Chapter 96 Deep.

Chapter 96: 96 Deep.

"I most certainly did," Elsa said, but her voice came out smaller than I would have expected.

She stood at the edge of the crystal circle in her white robe, barefoot in the grass, and for once in her life she wasn’t even able to make believe some confidence and regality.

Her hands were clasped in front of her and her lower lip had the faintest tremor.

Ayra and Juniper withdrew to the far side of the field. I could see Ayra’s tail still wagging from fifty yards away. The dog-girl couldn’t turn it off.

Elsa and I stepped into the circle together. The moonlight intensified the moment we crossed the crystal boundary, warm on my skin, and the tattoo on my chest flared bright enough to see through my shirt.

Hers answered, and for a second our tattoos pulsed together, synchronized.

"I don’t know why, but I’m nervous," she admitted, and the fact that she said it out loud instead of covering it with bravado hit me harder than anything she’d done since I met her.

Elsa Silverleaf did not admit to being nervous. She admitted to being inconvenienced, offended, outraged, hungry, or sleepy. Never nervous.

"Me too," I said. "That okay?"

"It is acceptable. And understandable. Making love with one such as me should inspire a great deal of nerves in anyone—but only you have the right, Champion." She reached up and pulled the tie on her robe.

The silk fell away and she stood there in full moonlight, pale, small, but impossibly perfect. Her tattoo blazed at me when I looked at it. "Now stop talking and kiss me."

I kissed her, alright. She grabbed the front of my shirt with both fists and pulled me down to her height, which required me to basically fold in half, and she kissed me back so hard I thought she was trying to climb inside me.

When we finally broke apart she was breathing hard and her eyes were wet.

"This is what I crossed dimensions for," she whispered as she worked on my clothes. "Don’t you dare disappoint me, Grey Coleman."

I’d been with Elsa in various configurations of mouth-on-body for a while now, but this was different and we both knew it.

The Gift of the Golden Tongue had gotten us through a lot of late nights, but this was the main event, and the bravado she usually wore like armor had come off with my W-Mart bathrobe.

She was shaking when I laid her down on the blankets I’d spread inside the circle. Not from cold, nor from her garbage CON score, but from the sheer weight of what this meant to her. I went slow, and she let me.

Here, under the full moon, she just looked up at me with those enormous blue eyes and waited.

I kissed her neck first. Then her collarbone, where the skin was so pale it was almost translucent in the moonlight. She made a small, offended sound when I didn’t go straight for her chest, like I’d skipped ahead in a book she was reading.

"I have breasts, you know," she informed me. "They’re right there. Perfectly proportioned, I might add. You’ve commented on them before."

"I’m getting there, Princess."

"Get there faster. I’ve been waiting months for this and I refuse to be teased."

I got there. She gasped when my mouth found her pale pink nipple, and the sound she made was exquisite. This one came from somewhere real. Her back arched off the blanket and her tiny hands grabbed fistfuls of my hair.

"Ungh—That’s—yes! That’s acceptable. More than acceptable. Just like that, Grey!" Her voice was unsteady. "Grey, I—I want you to know that—"

"Shh."

"Don’t you dare shush the First Maiden. I was going to say something beautiful and poetic about how much I—oh." I’d moved my hand between her legs and whatever beautiful, poetic thing she’d been composing disappeared from her mind.

Her thighs clamped around my wrist and she made a noise that I was going to remember for the rest of my life. "Nyahh—Oh, that’s—Grey, that’s—you’re—"

"Still talking?"

"Shut up! I’m allowed to narrate! This is my defloration! Ahh—oh, that sound? Is that my quim?!"

Indeed it was. Her pussy sounded like the chili mac she microwaved earlier when I stirred it in the bowl.

I worked her with my fingers until her narration devolved into nonsense, and her womb tattoo pulsed faster with every stroke, ruby light flickering between us.

When I finally positioned my cock between her legs and looked down at her, she’d gone quiet, and her eyes had gone adorably huge.

She was five feet nothing. I was six-three with a STR of 19 and shoulders that blocked out the moon behind me.

The size difference was frankly comical, and her eyes went wide as she processed the logistics of what was about to happen.

"Grey." Her voice came out very small. "This is going to hurt, isn’t it?"

"We can stop."

"If you stop I will have you executed." She grabbed my hips with both hands and pulled. "I am simply... adjusting my expectations based on this new visual juxtaposition. By the Silverbark Tree, has your penis always been so—so... girthy?"

I pressed into her slowly and she bit her lip hard enough that I thought she might draw blood. Her whole body tensed, tiny fingers digging into my arms, and for a second I froze.

"Don’t pause, don’t hesitate, my love," she whispered fiercely. "I am Elsa Silverleaf, First Maiden of the Hero’s Party, and I can take anything you—nnnngh FUCKING SHIT-FUCK GODDAMN!"

"Sorry!" I pushed deeper and soon she abandoned the speech entirely.

Her legs wrapped around my waist as best they could manage given the proportional absurdity, her heels barely making it past my hips.

Her tattoo was going crazy now, pulsing bright enough to cast actual shadows on the grass outside the circle. I kept the pace slow because I had to.

She was tight and making sounds I’d never heard come out of her before—breathy, hitching, stripped of every layer of performance, not concerned with sounding cute or pretty. The sounds were, in fact, a little ugly—but in that fact, they were very, very sexy.

Ha–aww-ahhh...D-deeper," she demanded, and then immediately, "Wait, not that deep!"