Dinner went on quietly for a while... just soft chewing, the crackle of fire, and the occasional pop of a fruit skin bursting between someone’s fingers. The air smelled of earth and sweet pulp. It was simple and peaceful.
He was just about to take a bite when something caught his eye.
Across the fire, Veyra suddenly leaned forward, the crackling flames danced across her face, casting flickering shadows on her features as she leaned forward, her usual scowl softened just enough to look... human. The heat from the fire mingled with the sweat on her skin, causing stray strands of her dark hair to cling to her neck.
As she reached for another fruit, her neckline shifted, treating Sol to a tantalizing glimpse of the curves hidden beneath her tunic. His gaze drifted lower, captivated by the small, pert breasts and the delicate pink bud beckoning him from beneath the fabric. The firelight seemed to caress that hidden treasure, making it glow with an almost otherworldly allure.
His eyes lingered on the tantalizing sight, his mind racing with forbidden thoughts. He could almost imagine the tender, pebbled skin of her nipple, the gentle pink of the areola, and the way it would pucker as it was grazed by the warm evening air.
His gaze drifted to the gap where her fur tunic dipped, revealing the tantalizing curve of her cleavage. His palms itched to trace the soft, feminine contours, to feel the heat of her body radiating through the thin animal hide.
As if sensing his gaze, or maybe not. Veyra shifted slightly, inadvertently pressing her chest forward. The firelight danced across her skin, casting flickering shadows that made her appear even more alluring.
Sol’s breath caught in his throat as he imagined cupping the weight of her breasts in his hands, feeling the soft give of her flesh as he rolled her nipples between his fingers.
Heat surged through his veins, pooling in his loins as his imagination ran wild. He pictured her lying beneath him, her usual bitchy face turned into aegyo, the firelight casting a golden glow over her body as he kissed and licked his way down her neck, over the swell of her breasts, and finally to the delicate pink buds. His tongue would swirl around the tight peaks, drawing out gasps and moans as he savored her sweet, feminine taste.
Hiss hand twitched, his fingers curling into a fist as he fought the urge to reach out and touch, to explore the forbidden territory of her body.
Swallowing the fruit, suddenly he choked mid-bite, because he was too busy imagining.
The sound was loud enough to make everyone look.
Lyra glanced up instantly. "Sol? Are you alright?"
He coughed his embarrassment mingling with arousal. "Yeah... uh, just... swallowed air." His voice emerged gravelly, strained.
Veyra’s raised brow and smirk made it clear she didn’t believe him, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips in a slow, deliberate movement. "Fruit too strong for you, then?"
When his breath returned, it came in ragged gasps, his face burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. Veyra’s smirk, her knowing gaze, only heightened his discomfort and desire.
Sol coughed again, half from embarrassment, half from the sheer, overwhelming need coursing through him. He knew he shouldn’t be ogling her like this, but he couldn’t help himself. The fire to press his lips to her newly exposed skin, to taste the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her flesh.
"Nah, just swallowed air," he managed, his voice hoarse. The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit the truth.
Veyra’s laughter, low and mocking, curled through the air like a caress. "Figures," she drawled. "You’d probably choke on a droplet of dew if you weren’t too busy gawking at the sky."
Arelia leaned over, patting his back gently. "Slow down, Sol. The body needs patience, not haste."
"Yeah," he muttered, still red-faced. "I’ll keep that in mind."
As Arelia’s gentle hand patted his back, Sol couldn’t help but imagine her touch elsewhere – on his heated skin, tracing the contours of his straining erection. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide his growing hardness, but Veyra’s giggles and sideways glances only intensified his desire.
His face reddened due to embarrassment, his own laughter strangled in his throat. He knew she was right, knew he’d been caught in a blatant stare. But he couldn’t look away, his gaze helplessly drawn back to that enticing nipple, to the soft swell of her breast.
He tried to act normal again, focusing on the fruit like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
But as they continued eating, he struggled to maintain his composure, his focus on the food before him wavering. He could still feel the heat of Veyra’s gaze, the unspoken challenge in her eyes.
And every time his eyes drifted back to that tantalizing curve, he felt a jolt of desire, a vivid fantasy of what it would be like to trace that hidden treasure with his tongue...
"You really did choke," she suddenly whispered, her berry-stained lips curled into a sly, teasing smile.
He shot her a glare, but it lacked any real heat, his attention already back on Veyra’s exposed nipple. The small pink bud seemed to pulse in the firelight, a secret invitation waiting to be claimed.
But he couldn’t just stare, couldn’t let her think of him as some lecherous pervert fixated on her chest, even though there wasn’t concept of any leacher or pervert here yet, but still, he couldn’t risk leaving a bad impression, if he later wanted taste that tantalizing bud.
So he bit his tongue, forced himself to focus on his food, even as his imagination painted vivid scenarios of tasteful exploration... fingers tracing the edge of her areola, thumbs circling the hardening peak, lips closing over the tender flesh to suckle and tease.
The image lingered, a tantalizing ember that refused to die. He could almost feel the weight of Veyra’s breast in his hand, the velvety softness and subtle give, the taste of salt and woman on his tongue.
His throat still burned, his body aching with the unfulfilled need to close the distance between him and the alluring pink bud across the fire.
Slowly, deliberately, he let his gaze drift back to that forbidden fruit, the rosy bud that seemed to beckon him closer with each passing second. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his breath coming in short, ragged pants as he fought the urge to abandon all restraint and claim Veyra as his own, to lose himself in the primal pleasure of her body under the unforgiving glow of the tribal fires.
But still his imagination continued to run wild, painting vivid mental images of his fingers exploring Veyra’s curves, of his mouth devouring her flesh. He could almost taste the subtle saltiness of her skin, feel the soft give of her breasts as he palmed them, the pert nipple puckering against his tongue. His member throbbed in time with his racing heart, aching with the need for relief.
Unaware of the carnal warring within his mind, Veyra leaned back, stretching languidly with a low moan. The firelight danced across her skin, highlighting the supple lines of her form.
Her tunic rode up, exposing a seductive glimpse of taut flesh. Sol’s gaze was drawn to the slight sheen of sweat on her abdomen, the delicate hollow of her navel.
He swallowed hard, trying to bring his errant thoughts back under control. It was no use – his imagination continued to run rampant, painting lurid scenes of forbidden desire.
He pictured himself trailing kisses down Veyra’s chest, over the swell of her breasts, until he reached the enticing bud at the center of her cleavage. His tongue would swirl around the sensitive peak, drawing out soft gasps and whimpers as she writhed beneath him.