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Moments in the Sun	By : Shebagirly Category: +M through R > Neverwinter Nights Views: 2345 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Neverwinter Nights or any of its characters. I make no money off of this story. This is my first adult fic so I welcome all reviews!

Chapter List
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Instead of answering, she reached for him again. He pulled her along to an edge of the stream, where the mist from the waterfall was at its least. The ground under water was rocky, easy to lean on, and comfortably shallow like a tub. The day was warm enough that the chill out of the water wasn’t much, but Leona slipped in the stream to her neck anyway. Bishop leaned back comfortably against the rock bed, as if settling into a couch. She slid to him. “My turn,” she said.
“I won’t say no,” he said.
Leona moved her head to his, then turned to lick down the line of his neck and across his bare chest. Bishop had very little hair there; she ran her fingers over his smooth upper body, stopping to tease each nipple with fingers and tongue. She reached her arms up, breathed in, and disappeared into the stream.
The water was clear enough to see while under, but she closed her eyes anyway, focusing on only her sense of touch. She’d done exercises like this while training, focusing on one sense over all others to strengthen tracking and battling skills. This was no different. She wrapped her hands around the length of him, and exhaled slow bubbles while kissing and licking all around the soft sac under his hardness. With a deeper exhale so as not to take in more water, she pulled him inside her mouth as if swallowing him whole. She clamped down with her lips, keeping hands moving up , down, and behind. In and out, up and down she went, until she felt her air shortening. She exhaled the last of her breath while moving up to the surface, her mouth never leaving his skin as if he were steel and she was magnet.
Bishop was wiry and slight compared to some heroes, but his body was strong and muscular, from years of training as a ranger and assassin. There was nothing soft about Bishop, in either his body or his demeanor. Leona took her time appreciating every inch of his body with her tongue before their lips met again.
            When she rose up to meet him, Leona was pleasantly surprised to see that Bishop no longer wore his half-bored, smug expression. He was wet all over from water and sweat, and his face was free of the simmering rage that usually clouded it. “What now?” he managed between deep breaths. Bishop would never, ever admit need, and probably wouldn’t admit when he was satiated, either. You needed a strong ego to put up with it, she realized, and she had it. She didn’t need flowery words or compliments. His body would tell her what words didn’t.
            Leona stared at him. “I only know I don’t want to go home yet,” she said.
            “Come here.” She went.
            “Turn around,” he said. She turned.
            “Shut your eyes.” Instead of following instructions, she turned her head towards him, to meet his eyes. With both hands, he grabbed the sides of her head and turned it away.
            “Bishop,” she said. “The last time you tried to boss me around like this I pulled a knife on you. You don’t remember?”
            “That won’t happen this time.”
            “No?”
            “No.”
            She felt a little spark of pride war with her desire. Damn it. She didn’t want to fight with Bishop today. Suddenly she felt vulnerable here with him, and wanted to be Captain again, in charge of things.
            “What makes you so sure?” she asked. She tried to turn her head again but he kept hold of it with his hands, and brought his lips close to hear ear.
            “One, because your knives are over there.” He turned her head towards their pile of clothes at the water’s edge. “And two,” he said as he pushed her body with his, up against the rocks, “Because you want me too much.”
            That little spark of pride wanted to disagree. She could get out of the water now and walk away, if she really wanted to. But she also could tell that Bishop sensed her tension, and he was offering her a small truce, strange as it seemed. He pushed against her gently with his body, as if asking her for permission. He wasn’t forcing her; he was waiting for her to let him force her. She recognized the difference, and her body relaxed. She sighed, letting out all the tension, relaxed the muscles in her face, and reached behind their bodies to hold him from behind.
            Leona put her head down, and he released his grip. She pulled him closer in from behind. “If you want me to want you that much,” she said, “you’re going to have to get closer to me.”
            “If I were any closer to you,” said Bihop, “I’d be inside you.”
            Leona said nothing. Bishop said nothing. That one moment of desire, before the contact they knew was coming, was agonizing and seemed never-ending. Bishop’s hands rolled down her front until even with her hips; she let out her breath in a slow stream, as if enduring pain. He reached up with one hand to push against her back, leaning her over until she had to grab the grassy edge in front of her for support. With his other hand he reached between her legs, and then thrust inside her.
The contact they both knew was coming still seemed like a surprise. Leona let out a cry, head arching back. Bishop moaned as he reached an arm around her, body arching in and out in perfect rhythm. He controlled the pace, speeding up and slowing down whenever he felt like it. As he slowed, he reached into the water with cupped hands, then dropped the water down Leona’s neck and back, licking some of it off as he sped his pace again. The combination of the water and his tongue brought her farther and farther away from the world around her, the world of decisions and taking and giving orders, and killing and mourning. Leona lost herself in the sensations, making the most of the pleasure. The less she thought, the more she felt, until her body felt like it could burst from the pressure building inside her. Heat coursed through her, groin to toes, until all sensations exploded. She arched her back and cried out into the clear air, releasing all the months of tension she’d endured.
            Feeling her tense around him, and hearing her delicious release, Bishop too lost himself in the sensation and came inside her, enjoying her body’s tightness and slow liberation. They slowed their rhythmic pace, both only conscious of breath, and sweat. Slowly Leona’s senses crept in, sharper than ever. She first felt the water swirling around her lower body, and Bishop’s body, next to her now, barely close enough to touch. The sun was warm on overheated skin; there were a dozen shades of green in the forest ahead. She heard fluttering steps in the distant hills behind them, and recognized it as the bear and wolf’s lumbering steps. The waterfall, before soft and misty, seemed to roar in her ears. She knew Bishop experienced the same sensory overload, and resisted the urge to touch him again.
            After a few minutes of silence, the awkwardness slowly began. There would be no snuggling or words of love; neither of them craved it, but it was customary, and nothing comes in easily to take its place. Leona waded up to Bishop’s lounging body, and watched him for a minute. His eyes were closed as he reclined against the edge, arms out as if sunbathing. He knew she was right there, but didn’t flinch.
            Leona reached in and kissed him lightly just below his neck. Then she waded back to another corner of the streaming pool, reclined, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t a game of wills; it was two people who had shared a short-term common goal. Each had served a purpose, and the moment was gone, leaving satisfied release in its glow.
            Bishop, she knew, would ruin it somehow. He would use it against her, hurt her, embarrass her. It was what he did. But she pushed the thoughts away for now. It wouldn’t have changed her mind; he gave her something today that he couldn’t take back. He shared a place with her, and managed to be vulnerable. For Bishop that was quite a lot. Focusing on her body in a type of meditation, Leona relaxed into the water and paid attention to her senses, not her thoughts. She stayed there until she lost track of time, basking in her body’s glow.
Sometime later, she heard Bishop pulling his belongings together, in his usual gruff way. He was getting ready to leave.
Finally, he spoke. “Well, Captain?” He said the word with its usual disdain. Yes, they were back to their old roles.
“Yes?” Leona didn’t open her eyes.
“You coming or staying?”
“Staying. I want to be away as long as I can today.” Back at the Keep, she would surely be met at the gates with a string of duties; why rush home for that? Dusk was coming, not that traveling at night mattered to them. But neither of them wanted to return to the keep together. The walk back would have been uncomfortable.
“Well,” said Bishop, “I’m heading out.” She opened her eyes. The sun glinted off his still-wet hair, face beautiful but for the ever-present scowl. He walked over to where she lay, and kneeled down to be closer to her. Someone else might have missed it, but for the smallest second Leona thought she saw tenderness. He backed away from it, both physically and mentally, rising up off his knee almost as quickly as he knelt. She could have called him on it, teased and embarrassed him; she stayed silent instead. What would she gain by making him cringe away from what little affection he could show? She watched him as he stood up and turned to leave.
After taking a few steps, he stopped and turned her way. “I won’t stay with you, you know.”
Leona always took her time interpreting his words. Surely he knew that she didn’t want some kind of commitment from him. “Meaning?”
He paused, then took his trademark deep breath before speaking. “Meaning, don’t expect to see me next to you in those final days.”
She took a moment and measured his words. This was not a surprise to her. Actually she was surprised he’d stayed as long as he had. “I know,” she said. Then she met his eyes for a long while, deliberately. “It’s too bad,” she said, with a bit of tease in her voice. Those three words were full of promise, as if inviting him back into the pool.
“Yeah. It’s too damn bad.”
Another pause, then he took a breath and spoke again.
“You know, girl, life isn’t all rainbows and happiness.”
“Yes, I know that, Bishop,” Leona said. She looked at him pointedly. “But there are moments that are.”
He nodded ever so slightly. “Yeah. Moments are all we’ve got.”
With that, he turned and left, without a backward glance. Leona closed her eyes and eased back into the pool. When she’d soaked until she was bored, she opened her eyes again. Alone as far as she could see, she emerged and packed her things. She smiled in spite of herself. Things were bound to get tough; she was likely to die, and was sure there were things out there worse than death itself. But she had moments. Moments to carry her through the coming storm, come what may.
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Moments in the Sun