Getting Even

Ekiria stalked him. He had no idea that the person he was searching all of Azeroth for was in fact following him. She had gotten close enough last night to touch his sleeping face before she stole into the night, making camp at a safe distance. Tonight was the night. She would have her revenge.

She snuck into the camp, the dying embers barely lighting her face. She took in the sight before her, counting the mistakes he had made with the camp. He had left himself unprotected, thinking that the Alliance lands would be safe for him to travel through unmolested. Mistake number one. He had removed the heavy plate armor, only a shirt and cloth trousers covering his form. Number two. But the most damning of all, was the fact that he traveled alone. He had no need for company in his home lands, and with his friends Apollodorus and Athanasius scouring the other areas of Azeroth, he had felt it unnecessary to have more than himself.

‘Number three,’ thought Ekiria as she began to wind light, but strong rope around his arms. She deftly bound him, her stealthy skills not causing him to bat an eye. She moved down his body, taking in the taut belly bared under the light shirt and admired the view. Her errant husband truly was a fine specimen of maleness. His perfectly smoothed hair shone in the moonlight that streamed through the Elwynn Forest trees, and his violet skin gave a wonderful countenance to Elune’s soft glow. Ekiria smiled, and proceeded to swiftly bind his legs together. She double checked the knots, knowing her work was well done, and proceeded to remove the single owlkin feather she had picked up in Stormwind the day before. She sat next to Lothlain, and began to tickle the inside of his ear.
He snorted and shifted a bit. She smiled and tickled his nose. Lothlain awakened with a great sneeze and fell backwards stunned at the sight of his wife, unhurt and smiling down at him.

“Gods be praised, Eki, where have you been?!” He hadn’t seemed to have noticed the bindings on his just yet.

“Tracking you, my love. Testing my skills.” Ekiria straddled Lothlain, and began stroking his face lightly. “I love following you. It’s a wonderful use of my abilities, and keeping them honed has proved time and time again to be my savior.”

“Eki?” Lothlain asked questioningly, trying to move his hands and legs, and finding he was bound. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

“Revenge, my love. Revenge.”

Lothlain looked quite worried when she said this, but his golden eyes glowed with a brilliant satisfaction as he spied the soft owlkin feather she held. Eki raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and ran her deft fingers over his muscular chest. She raised the hem of his plain sleep shirt, and drew it up over his head, leaning over as to barely skim his lips with her leather bound breasts. She slid back down him, relishing the obviousness of his need beneath her. She smirked, and drew the tip of the feather lightly across Lothlain’s collarbone, flicking it to and fro.

Lothlain giggled a bit under the feather’s trail of sensation. He arched into her, grinding himself against her pelvic bone, letting her know exactly how much he was already enjoying this revenge. Eki brought the feather to Lothlain’s underarms, and began tickling the soft skin there; it was a parody of the torture he had put her through months prior. Lothlain’s laughs startled the bats above them, and Eki looked around to make sure no one had heard his unmanly shrieks.

“Tsk, tsk, my dear. You sound like this is just torture. I haven’t even begun.” Eki smirked evilly, and dropped the feather beside him. She brought her hands to his ribcage, and began spidering her fingertips across the skin there, digging into the muscle harder at random points. She bit her lower lip as she moved to his belly, and then back to his sides, finding the most ticklish spots and punishing him there. Lothlain laughed and cried out, jerking under Eki’s light weight. Her bonds held well, and he was unable to prevent the onslaught that his lovely wife was bringing to him. Her fingers traced trails of fire and wonderfulness across his chest and sides, dipping down to squeeze and tickle the muscles near his Adonis line. Highly sensitive, Lothlain was reduced to fits of pathetic squawking and rolling about.

Ekiria slid down, and breathed in his male scent and she began tickling his inner thighs, her fingers finding the nerves and working them until they were screaming with sensation. She dipped her tongue into his navel and began flicking it in and out, tickling it. She moved a single fingertip into Lothlain’s vision, and forced him to watch as she dipped it inside his navel and began torturing him properly. She tugged and poked, tickled and prodded, and all the while her other hand was busy sparking tiny fires of ticklishness along his pelvic lines.
He gave in to her questing fingers, and bucked underneath her, his male self betraying him by straining to free itself from his sleep pants. Eki wiggled, grinding down on his manhood while tickling her way up to his upper body and armpits once again. She attacked his armpits with a ferocity she usually reserved for battle, and began working her pelvis against his, rubbing against the hardness she felt below. She tickled his armpits and upper ribs, her fingers aching with pressure. Ghosting her hands across his nipples, she tickled below them, the soft skin of his stomach a perfect canvas for her art. Lothlain fell limp under the sensations, giving soft whimpers and moving in jerks of pleasure.

Ekiria relented, and sat back on Lothlain’s legs.

“Had enough, my love?” she asked, her glowing eyes meeting his.

“Y… yes.” he breathed.

She stood over him, and casually stripped out of her leathers, dropping them to the side as she shucked her shirt and trousers. Naked now, her purple skin was broken only by the dimple of her navel and a small thatch of green hair leading down towards her core. Lothlain’s eyes widened as she straddled him again. He could feel her wetness against him, and he thrust his hips up to her as she lay over him, cutting the ropes that bound his hands. He was on her in an instant, grabbing the belt knife from her and cutting his legs free. He flipped her and wasted no time in ripping off his sleep pants and mounting her fiercely. She cried out as he filled her, and she welcomed him in by locking her legs around his back. They mated furiously, rocking into each other as if they were warriors sparring. Lothlain reached a long finger down and tickled Eki’s navel and she tightened around him and came, her convulsions sending him over the edge. He cried her name hoarsely as he spilled into her, filling her fertile womb with his seed. She rocked into him, her own climax opening her womb to receive his offering. As they came down from their ecstasy, Lothlain made to rise from her, but Eki clung to him.

“Not yet, love. Stay in me for a bit longer.” She smiled lazily up at him, her eyes brilliant with a look Lothlain could not place.

He lowered himself back onto her, his large frame covering her smaller one. He could feel a light trickle of wetness seeping around his softening manhood, and felt Eki sigh as he finally slipped from inside of her. He slip down her, expecting to see the customary gush of seed leave her willing body, but only the few droplets that he had felt earlier were there. He looked up at her and said as much.

“I know, Lothlain. I can feel it inside of me yet. It’s in there, but it’ll come out eventually,” she said, patting her abdomen.

Lothlain shrugged and moved to lie beside her. He covered her body with a large arm, and nuzzled her hair from behind, breathing in the familiar scent. He sighed and fell asleep, contented. Ekiria kept her hand over her stomach, patting the flat belly that she knew would soon swell with the child he had put inside of her this night. She smiled, and turned to face his chest, and slept entwined with her loving husband.