Addiction

It had been three months, and in those three months she had fucked two shaman - a troll and an orc, the troll had been her original intent, she'd watched him fairly stalk up the streets of Orgrimar with interest - but when he asked if his friend could join with those glittering eyes and that sly grin of his she could hardly say no. And the experience hadn't been unpleasant at all, to the contrary they'd both been eager to try her unusual request, and as they'd gone at her from every angle the two of them could come up with, the green glowing energies of earth twisting around their writhing bodies, she'd certainly enjoyed it.

At first, it had just been the troll, he'd fairly ripped her clothes from her once they'd found a secluded area in the Drag, and immediately started eagerly lapping at her sweet pussy with soft persistent growls, and when the orc had arrived as promised, he spent a good deal of time simply watching them, stroking his cock as she writhed and moaned. Evidently he decided she made too much noise, as one moment she'd closed her eyes in ecstasy, the next she opened them to find his cock dangling in front of her. She took it in eagerly, the thick rod muffling her moans until the troll pulled his tongue away from her slick folds and without warning thrust his own impressive tool into her. The two played with her like this for hours, occasionally swapping places, all three worked into a frenzy of movement accompanied by the tickling lights of their spells until they'd both pulled back and finished, jerking off on her shuddering body until she was fairly coated with their cum, licking it off her fingers with satisfaction. Yes, she'd certainly enjoyed it.

But a small, detached, measuring part of her watched the experience from afar even as it occurred and despite being pleasant, it fell short of what she'd been hoping for. She'd thanked them and they'd waved her off with pleasant smiles and promises to meet up and do it again sometime - though all three of them knew said promises would never be fulfilled.

In the meantime, she'd found small ways to sate the craving within her, feeding when and where she could. A month later, she'd returned to Silvermoon with her report - that the strange creatures of Azuremist Isle didn't really seem to be particularly intent on wiping out her race, indeed they seemed much more concerned with saving their own - and she'd accepted her payment along with another offer for more gold should she come across any more information of...value.

She hadn't really considered it, but when she'd noticed a pair of yellow eyes glinting with lust as she strode down the darkened streets of Murder Row, watching the carefully placed swagger of her hips, the thought occurred to her that perhaps she could recreate that...unusual experience with one of her own kind - after all, they were using the same 'light' as the paladin she'd...

...and she'd stopped, staring fixedly at the banners and sculpture ahead, her mind decidedly elsewhere. Elsewhere being flat on her back on that strange makeshift bed as he plunged in and out of her, his eyes still glowing with the same gentle look he'd given her that first day he'd found her collapsed on the floor, only this time there was an undertone of desire, of need, not the urgent call that she was experiencing but a different sort of need that he took as he filled her, light weaving over and between the two of them in an intricate dance...

...her reverie was broken by a low cough - those golden eyes belonged to an equally golden body with golden hair pulled back in an impressive crest, perched on a steed that was decidedly NOT golden at all - she'd heard tales of the blood knight's steeds, but she hadn't seen one up close before, and while she would've liked to study it further, the sly lift of an eyebrow and cock of the head to a secluded set of stairs that led to an equally secluded set of bedchambers had her loins throbbing urgently, and with a quirk of her eyebrow and tilt of her head she nodded, following him to his quarters. Clothing was stripped methodically, and as their bodies pressed together and he led her to the bed, as his fingers entwined with hers, as he positioned himself atop her, she leaned in to whisper her desires into his ear. He grinned, leaning down to nip at her neck in silent agreement.

What followed should have been pleasant. She should have known better. Blood elf males, while beautiful to look at and arrogantly proud of their prowess, were terrible lovers, unimaginative and uninspired. His reaction to her request had gotten her hopes up but his efforts were futile - between his utter...lack of any kind of respectable size and his inability to concentrate on more than one thing at a time, his arousal quickly lost as he concentrated on calling the energies to him, she was left with nothing to do but impatiently grasp his cock, stroking it to full length and lie there, trying to look enthralled as he hastily hammered at her.

She left shortly thereafter, traveled back to Kalimdor - Silvermoon held nothing for her. In desperation she'd found a tauren druid who was attentive, sweet, and utterly enchanted by this tiny creature and her odd requests. He treated her like a doll, fragile and soft, bathing her gingerly in his home, rubbing soft oils into her skin and then delicately making love to her - it was sweet, and pleasant, and he'd been an apt and pleasing lover, his size making up for the lack of...light...

...really, that had to have been the difference. His cock was huge, he stuffed her to capacity, much like the paladin had, and he'd been eager and gentle at the same time, much like the paladin had, but the difference between the paladin's commanding presence and the druid's was simply too large to ignore. She'd left him two days later - quietly slipping away as he slept, leaving him with nothing more than a note sweetly thanking him for his time and the scent of her on his pillows.

After that, she'd wandered.

She hadn't been consciously looking for him - she'd been travelling, she'd been taking odd jobs, she'd been doing the occasional seedy favor here and there, aimlessly moving through the Barrens, through Ashenvale, up into the tortured landscape of Felwood, savagely feeding off of the satyrs that dwelt within, when she heard...stories. People talked, and one night, over a quiet campfire at the small horde outpost, a fellow traveler from Winterspring mentioned seeing one of the strange new members of the Alliance, a paladin...

...she was off the next morning, weaving her quiet way through the tunnels of the furblog, stepping out into the quiet hush of snowfall and it was just her job that brought her here - after all, they'd told her that they'd pay for more information, and this was information of interest, the creatures were obviously not confined to Azuremist Isle and were on the move. It certainly had nothing to do with the odd leap she felt in her chest when she heard the young tauren's tale.

And nothing to do with the pang of desire she felt.

Nothing at all.

And so it was, three months later, as dawn broke glaringly over the brilliant ever-white landscape, flakes of snow softly hushing all other noise that she found herself atop a hill overlooking a cave, a cave that may or may not hold the selfsame creature who'd taken her three months before. She dismounted, sending her hawkstrider away with a pat to the rump and quietly stole down to the entrance, stealthing reflexively as she crept inside.

Two things of importance she noted right off the bat - firstly, the occupant of the cave was not currently at home, and secondly and with another peculiar leap in her chest the confirmation she had been looking for was given to her - the scent was the same, the feel was the same, and though the cave was permeated with cold, his presence still filtered through the cold. It was the same creature - the same man.

It was at this point that she stalled out, her breath hotly fogging in the chilled air. She'd found him. Now what? She hadn't really thought about it, and as she pondered this, silently cursing herself for being a fool, she tried to fathom some sort of a plan. Perhaps she could....arrange another injury, this one more convenient. Perhaps he wouldn't remember her. Perhaps...

Perhaps she should simply turn around and go home, as this was sheer, sheer madness. Madness indeed, and her eyes lit on the stack of books that the paladin studied. She moved to them without thinking, opening the cover of the topmost and running her fingers gingerly over the text, written in an unintelligible language that she couldn't make heads or tails of. Strange characters, glyphs almost, were etched into the pages, and pictures here and there of glimmering beings, not the paladin's kind, but other...what were they? They were fascinating...but she couldn't make out the text, and she turned the pages, engrossed. From what she could tell, this was some sort of holy text? Possibly? At the very least, she could fetch a pretty penny for it - it was exactly the sort of thing they were looking for over in Silvermoon, and she was certain the Blood Knights would be highly interested in it-

-and a hand clapped on her shoulder, lifting her painfully into the air as she struggled and squawked, spinning her to face a chest encased in glimmering plate, hot breath beating down on her, narrow eyes glowing with anger as the other hand ripped the hood from her head.

The change in his face was startling. At first, the furrowed brow, the angry glint, then one eyebrow slowly lifted, the other following as dumbfounded recognition fluttered across his features, next eyes closing, face unreadable, then snapping open again to stare at her and the forgotten book behind her, carelessly opened to a random page, in outrage.

Her gaze was fierce, uncomplicated, and unashamed. His shifted once more to anger, eyes closing again in a silent prayer and she wondered, fleetingly, what it would feel like to die-


-and abruptly he yanked her to him, crushing her lips and body against him and drowning her in beautiful, glimmering light..