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Last Breath	By : kalla Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 5528 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: World of Warcraft, Azeroth and the concept of Blood Elves and Trolls within the universe are not mine. No money is made from this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Full Disclaimer:

World of Warcraft is not mine, nor are the concepts of Trolls and Blood Elves within the World of Warcraft setting. The Setting of Azeroth is not mine.
Tshion, my Blood Elf Paladin, IS mine.

Jelah, the Troll Mage, belongs to my boyfriend and is used with permission.

Nozilla, the Orc Warrior, belongs to my boyfriend and is used with permission.

Part of this story is/has been Role-Played in game and out.
The title is inspired by Evanescence, "My Last Breath".

The chapter titles are inspired by The Last Dance, "Once Beautiful".

I claim neither song to be my own.
This work is purely for archival/entertainment, and no money is being made from it.

IV. Make Me Feel
Jelah blinked at the paladin, not quite sure he heard that correctly. When Tshion continued to grin at him like a cat who found a dish of cream, he chuckled. “Maybe the Darkspear would prefer to get in you.”
Tshion leaned forward and nipped the mage's ear. “Either way, both ways, it doesn't matter.” He chuckled as Jelah stood up, tugging his arm as he did and nearly unbalancing both of them back into Jelah's chair. Tshion let go of the mage, who windmilled a little, but stayed standing.
And then, he pouted at the paladin. Eyes wide, lips twitching suspiciously, trying to form their regular, contagious smile rather than the sullen pout. Tshion simply raised one long, black eyebrow, and shook his head, the grin returning. “Come on, Squishy,” he purred. “Or was it not your intention to feed me mageroyal tea earlier? It wasn't even diluted!”
“No, it wasn't. For good reason. You need to be relaxed tomorrow – alert, but relaxed.” Jelah tugged at the paladin's hand, heading toward the staircase near the back of the room. He paused, however, at the kitchen door, and stuck his head into it, murmuring something softly to Lily, the retired mage, now caretaker of the hall. Upon getting an answer, he continued to tug Tshion up the stairs.
The paladin, meanwhile, simply looked amused. “Relaxed. You think I'm going to be relaxing anytime soon?” He had glanced downward as Jelah made his inquiry. “And dare I ask what you're conspiring with your fellow mage?”
“Nothing so exciting. Just something cold, refreshing, the usual.” Jelah shrugged, trying to look innocent. Tshion didn't say anything, but he snickered softly. “Oh, laugh, Elf. You won't be laughing soon.”
That got the paladin's interest. He looked up at the troll, who was looking back at him with hooded eyes, and a grin that wasn't the cheerful sort. Tshion shuddered and bit his lip as he realized just what that look had done to him. He was very suddenly looking forward to getting his pants -off-. Why, oh why did the troll insist on taking a tower room? And why weren't they portaling there? Tshion suspected that Jelah knew that the mageroyal would take more effect as the paladin moved, and he'd been stationary since mid-morning when he began writing. Now that he was moving...
Why was he looking like that anyway? It was Jelah who now had the look of that self-satisfied cat. Did he know? Could he tell? Self-consciously, Tshion dared a glance down as they reached the top of the second flight of stairs, on the pretense of -not- tripping over that last step.
He was doomed if anyone saw him. He had chosen something comfortably form-fitting, and the very obvious ridge along the front seam that his shirt was not quite long enough to hide gave him away. He closed his eyes briefly as Jelah continued to tug at him, and from the appreciative chuckle, he could tell the mage had also noticed.
“Pants a bit tight for you?” Oh that wicked mage... Tshion narrowed his eyes at his companion, who just chuckled again. Jelah knew what that tone did, and calling attention to … well … didn't help. “Oh come now,” the mage murmured, with an ever so slight inflection on the word “come”, “it was mageroyal. This was bound to come up.”
Tshion groaned. “Puns now, Squishy?” He grinned, intending to get back some of his own. “Are you intending to upgrade that name to Splooshy next?”
Jelah twitched. Tshion laughed. The mage switched directions lightning quick to pull Tshion through the nearest door – the door to the lower tower balcony. He let go of the paladin and moved to the railing to look out over the sea. “Too messy. To upgrade to “Splooshy” I would probably need to hit a ceiling, and then it would just fall on us.” He grinned back at Tshion, who moved forward to join him.
“Mm,” Tshion mused, looking out over the sea. “How would we explain -that- to Lily?” He grinned back. “At that point, both of our names would be “Toast” and we wouldn't be going anywhere tomorrow.” He jumped as a hand suddenly moved along the curve of his rear, then slid around to the front.
“Perhaps. Though if we're going to go out as “Toast” I do think we'd go out happy, don't you think?” The mage's voice was quiet, though his actions spoke far louder than his words. One finger traveled along the ridge, and the troll grinned when he felt it jump.
Tshion froze, his hands curling around the rail. He turned his head to look at the mage, his eyes darkening dangerously. Jelah didn't appear to notice, though the paladin knew better. “Out here?” the paladin finally asked. “Right here, in full view?”
Jelah's hand paused. “What do you mean?”
“You would get the chance to hit the ceiling,” Tshion gestured upwards at the balcony's ornate overhang. “Lily would never know.” He turned to face the mage. “Perhaps it's the mageroyal talking, but … I'm pretty sure it would be possible.” One hand lifted from the railing to trail a finger along the troll's side, grinning as he felt the hand against his own arousal pause, then squeeze. “Of course, there is always the possibility of getting caught. There will be a few who may want to wander this way at moonrise.”
The hand let the paladin go. The idea was ludicrous and they both knew it, but Jelah couldn't help but let Tshion think about it. He moved closer to the paladin and nuzzled him. “I don't want to share,” he murmured, right against Tshion's ear. Tshion shuddered and pressed himself against the mage, who grinned. That was it. Right there. The paladin's eyes were dark as he looked down into them, glowing ever-so-slightly brighter than normal; the lust clearly readable there was intoxicating.
Jelah leaned down, brushing one of his tusks against Tshion's cheek, turning the paladin's head to kiss him, his arms sliding around the blood elf's waist. Tshion's arms were around him before he could blink, leaning into the kiss, his legs parting enough to wiggle one of his between the mage's, even as the thought of /Oh, Light I wasn't serious... not here.. not here.../ trickled through his mind.
The door creaked. A startled grunt came from the direction of the door and Jelah and Tshion broke apart hastily, both blushing at what they had come so close to starting. As one, they turned toward the door.
The orc standing there looked only slightly embarrassed, though it could have been due to the bruise swelling around one side of his face, up into his eye.
Tshion sighed. “Aren't you ever going to learn, Noz?” Jelah winced as the orc stepped into the last of twilight's light.
Nozilla shrugged. “Figured she could use some peace. She isn't happy.” He snorted. “Well, she's happier now that she's hit me.” Tshion rolled his eyes, muttering “orcs” under his breath as he stepped away from Jelah to examine the bruise with soft fingers.
“You look like she hit you with a mallet!” Jelah burst out, shocked.
“She -did-.”
Tshion rolled his eyes. “It's not horrible. Nothing broken, at least. I can't do much – you'd need to find one of the other Healers for better, but I can at least make it so it won't swell your eye shut. You're lucky she didn't break your nose.” He called a bit of the Light's power to him, touching the bruise gently, and the swelling began to fade, the bruise still dark, but not as raw-looking. “Markana needs to learn to control that temper of hers, sometimes.”
“More like Noz needs to learn to shut up...” Nozilla sighed. “I deserved it.” Tshion and Jelah both chuckled.
“I'm not even going to ask what you did.” Jelah sighed.
“It's better that you don't. I'm... uh. Sorry that I interrupted... uh...”
Tshion blushed as he stepped back. “It's all right. You just happened to wander in before we'd left is all.”
The orc chuckled. “I figure a little bit here, and she'll have calmed down to at least let me back in. All this bad business with Hellscream's not good for her, considering the rumors we hear about what his so-called Shaman-wannabes have done.”
“For better or worse, it ends on the morrow.” Jelah patted the orc's shoulder. “Good luck!” He turned and looked at Tshion, who nodded as they both headed for the door to the tower.
“Thanks. I'll need it...” echoed through the door before Tshion closed it.
“That was close,” he said, looking up at the mage, one eyebrow lifted slightly.
“But a good thing. It was a bit too tempting. You were so willing to follow through, after all.” Jelah grinned.
Tshion shuddered. “Evil mage.” He started up the spiral staircase to the tower. “I'll have to find some way to make you pay for that.”
“We'll see, we'll see.” Jelah followed the paladin, a few steps behind, just in case.
Not trusting themselves – or each other – they made their way up the rest of the stairs in silence, at least outwardly.
Tshion opened the door to their suite at the top of the tower, stepped inside and to one side, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. After a moment, Jelah chuckled behind him, and the candles in the sitting room flared to life. There were advantages, after all, to living with a mage.
Tshion took a few steps forward, sighing. “Have I mentioned how wonderful it is to have someone able to do that?” The door closed, and Tshion counted just enough time for Jelah to lock the door.
“Oh, among other thi-” As Jelah turned he found himself pressed against the door he had just locked, lip-locked with the paladin. It took him a moment to register that Tshion had pressed himself against every inch he could, the upper part of his hip was in just the right position to renew what hardness he had lost, and from the ridge against his inner thigh, Tshion had not lost even so much as a touch of his own.
Tshion, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind the height difference. He could still display -some- dominance at least. Jelah closed his eyes, and folded his arms around the paladin, ignoring the hands pressing his shoulders against the door. /Now to even the score.../ Three fingers curled themselves around each side of the blood elf's rear and with surprising strength, lifted him.
Tshion gasped, breaking the kiss as his thigh met with the mage's cock, and his own met with Jelah's hip. He felt the mage shift slightly to lean against the door to help support his weight. “Better?” Of course Jelah would sound amused. The paladin made a noise of acknowledgment and dove in for another kiss.
Tshion wriggled a bit as the kiss broke. “Upstairs,” he murmured. “We can't keep that up long enough.”
“Oh, it'd stay up. Oh, you mean my arms.. I could arrange for-”
“Jelah...” Tshion, had he not been dosed liberally with mageroyal, would have winced at the tone. He wasn't some horny adolescent, after all. Okay, when it came to Jelah, maybe he was, mageroyal or no. The blush that crept along his cheeks certainly didn't fit him otherwise. “Please, let me down. Upstairs. Now.”
Jelah let him slide down to his own feet, only to find the paladin's hands tugging at the lacings of the loose pants he wore. He chuckled, and gently batted the hands away. “Upstairs,” he murmured. Tshion shook his head, and managed to loosen the pants just enough to...
/Ohspiritswhatishedoing?!/ “Tshion!” Jelah yelped in surprise. The mage leaned against the door again, this time to support himself. Daring to look down, he found the paladin on one knee, lifted just enough for his lips to be wrapped firmly around the head of his cock, his eyes mostly, but not quite closed, judging by the slight glow against his cheeks.
The mage bit his lip, his eyes closing against that tantalizing sight, hands pressing against the door so he wouldn't be tempted to run his hands through Tshion's hair, tied back as it was, or to start thrusting into that oh-so-willing mouth.
He heard the chuckle before he felt it, and his head hit the door with a loud thunk. His fingernails dug into the door, and he hoped that Lily wouldn't notice if he left gouges. His knees went weak, and the moan of longing didn't seem to make Tshion want to stop... whatever-it-was he was doing with his tongue, digging under the foreskin and lathing between it and his shaft and whatever-THAT-was at the base of the head and...
“Tshion.. I can't..” The words spilled, a desperate attempt at a warning. At once, all touch was gone.
Tshion looked up at the mage, grinning before he stood up and helped support the troll for a moment as he opened his eyes and steadied himself. “Upstairs?”
“Upstairs.”
Unlike most of the rest of the hall, the tower suites had a sitting room positioned beneath the bedrooms. The lower floor of the suite held the sitting room area, and instead of branching off from the sitting area, there was a staircase where the bedroom door would be in the usual suites. This led to a tiny ante-chamber in multi-bedroom suites, or directly to the bedroom in single-bedroom suites. This floor also held the bathing room. The suite that Jelah had chosen was at the very top of the South-east tower of the building. The bedroom floor boasted a wrapped balcony, where Jelah spent much of his time gazing out into the sea, or out over Eversong Woods. The only downside was the very small fireplace, which wasn't much comfort in the snowy weather seasons. Then again, that was what body heat was for, and they were never uncomfortable. Another advantage to being – or living with – a mage.
Tshion wasn't sure how he made it up the stairs, though he wasn't upset when he found his own pants loosening. He moaned in relief as he tried to rid Jelah of his pants... only to find his hands batted away again, in favor of his own shirt joining his pants. “Jelah,” he murmured, only to be answered by a soft chuckle. The paladin found himself pushed down into one of the room's armchairs.
Jelah leaned in to kiss him again, pushing him back against the back of the armchair, his knee between Tshion's legs, just within reach for Tshion to arch just enough to rub against the loose fabric of his pants.
The chuckle came before Tshion felt the spell-casting. His eyes opened, and he pulled back a little. “Jelah, you're not-” He felt the band settle into place around his chest as similar ones settled against his wrists and ankles. “Oh, Light, Jelah, not now... for all that's holy, not now...”
“Why not?” Jelah nuzzled Tshion's neck, then nibbled at his ear. “You know what the end result will be already.” The paladin shuddered again.
Oh yes, he knew exactly what that end would be. The bands of ice would melt according to Tshion's need, and usually when he was more than half-mad with it. A detached part of him wondered if Jelah wanted to go into combat a little sore; a reminder of what he was fighting for.
Very well, then. So be it. As long as he was just as sore when it was over.
Tshion was jarred out of his thoughts by a three-fingered hand curling around his cock, and slowly stroking it. He couldn't stop the moan of longing, already almost painfully hard, being touched so gently, stroked so slowly. It seemed the mage was going for a slow burn, and he knew it would be worth it, but the torment it took to -get- there...
Jelah straddled the paladin, his hand still in place, his other reaching up to pull Tshion's hair-tie out, freeing the raven locks to spill around the paladin's face. Their eyes met. The mage grinned. The paladin blinked.
The blindfold settled into place with another well-chosen curse.
The hand between Tshion's thighs sped up. Touches fell on heated skin, the troll's fingertips cooled by magic. Weight shifted. Jelah lifted himself so he could nibble at one of the blood elf's ears, drawing the tip down toward him to suck on it.
Tshion's hips jerked – the only movement he could manage. His arms strained against the arms of the chair, wanting to reach up, wanting to retaliate, wanting to gain some kind of grasp to ground himself. The years with the mage had taught him that he had let slip every secret his body had to offer. Jelah knew exactly where to touch, and how, to drive him to breaking point.
And Jelah knew it was easier this way; a discovery by accident, of course. He took advantage of it now, though, no matter how hard he was himself, no matter that when he leaned forward, he left damp trails against Tshion's stomach, no matter how much he wanted the paladin – now – he would take advantage of this. It was always so much better when it was primal, raw, nothing left but desperate entwining racing toward (or fighting against) relief.
The mage grinned as he pressed his palm against Tshion's shaft, turning his hand a different way along each stroke, almost giggling in glee as the paladin's hips jerked upwards, but the troll's weight kept him still. Over the years the mage had learned how to turn that disciplined paladin into a writhing, mewling ball of pure need, and sometimes it took work – when times were peaceful – and sometimes, like now, it was easier, as the reminder that they are mortal closes in.
He nudged Tshion's chin with his nose, urging the paladin to drop his head back and relax – well, sort of. Once he'd gotten what he wanted, he attacked the elf's throat with careful kisses, ignoring the delightful sounds vibrating the throat beneath his lips.
/One advantage,/ Jelah mused as he shifted to slide a knee between Tshion's legs again, pressing it against the paladin's groin so his hands were free to run along the elf's rear, /of being in this tower is definitely no one can hear us... They might think I murder Tshion every few nights.../
Tshion's hips jerked again, and he made a half-whimpering noise against the lips against his own. Jelah lifted a little so his thigh pressed the paladin's weeping cock against his stomach, and held it there firmly. And then, he remained still.
Tshion's arms strained with trying to break free of the icy shackles, but his mind reminded him that there was no escape. He told his mind to go to the Nether. His hips began to move of their own accord, writhing against Jelah's thigh, needing something, anything. Jelah let him do this for a few moments, then draw away, rolling himself backwards to stand in front of the chair, pulling the blindfold away as he moved.
Tshion's eyes snapped open, and there was definitely a fire in his eyes now that was only smoldering there when he had the mage pinned against the door. Good. The mage lowered into a crouch, watching Tshion's eyes as they followed his progress. He leaned out to kiss one of Tshion's knees, eyes upturned to the paladin's. He was the center of the elf's attention. Probably self-preservation, judging by the darkness of the purple hue the head of his cock was taking, not to mention the almost steady drip of pre-come from the tip.
He rose again, and turned his back on the elf, lazily pulling the loose shirt off, and letting it slide off one long arm to puddle onto the floor; a jewel-bright burst of amethyst against the rich red-brown of the floor panels. He waited a moment until he could feel the eyes back on him instead of the shirt, and began to slide his pants down over his slender hips, over his rear, and with a half turn towards the paladin, let them fall.
Jelah was rewarded by the slight hitching in Tshion's breath, the whimper, and the sound of a very hot paladin straining at shackles of ice. They hadn't broken yet, so there must have been some kind of control left in the paladin. That would never do.
Tshion stared at the mage as he tried to pull free. Even he knew they would break only when he himself was broken, but he certainly wanted to tackle the troll, and then there would be a pleasant scuffle, and then the winner would bury themselves into... /Oh Light I need to stop -thinking- about it.../
The thought was banished when Jelah, leaned himself against the edge of the bed and then lowered himself onto it, his eyes hot on Tshion's. He leaned back on one arm, one leg hanging off the bed, one curling to plant a two-toed foot out to the side. Tshion's hands clenched on the chair's arms, and he thought he could hear his nails tearing it. Jelah's free hand was trailing a finger down his side, along a thigh, over his knee, and back upwards along his thigh. He chuckled as Tshion's eyes followed its progress, and he deliberately teased by not moving where Tshion expected him to move.
Tshion's hips shifted restlessly, wanting friction, wanting touch, wanting -something-, even as his eyes watched one of Jelah's fingers slide over the darker blue of his shaft, then move away again. It was infuriating, and Tshion knew Jelah knew it. The mage's hand paused at his knee, and he grinned at the paladin. “Liking what you see?” he said softly, honey practically dripping from his voice.
The growl that was his answer startled a chuckle out of the mage. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then grinned wickedly at the paladin. He leaned down so he was resting on his elbow, his head in his hand. The hand on his knee lifted and gestured.
The shackle around Tshion's right hand melted away. “Prove it.” Without waiting to see if the paladin realized his hand was now free, he lowered his hand back to his thigh again, running a finger along the crease between it and his torso.
Before Tshion's hand had made it halfway from the arm of the chair to his own thigh, the mage's fingertips were trailing downwards through the crease, and there they paused so he could concentrate his attention on the paladin for a moment.
The paladin, meanwhile, was cooperating nicely, his hand having moved up to close around his balls and pull them outward and down. His shuddering sigh was more than enough to tell the mage just how close the paladin had been to a breaking point. After the space of a few heartbeats, Tshion moved his hand to the base of his cock, sucking in his breath as he traced a finger against it, then two, then three, until his hand curled around the shaft, and slowly began to move. Very slowly. Two could play at this game, after all.
Jelah looked up to Tshion's eyes, to find the emerald depths locked on his face, and for a moment, Jelah found it difficult to look away. His eyes dropped once more to find Tshion's hand moving faster, and from the way the tip leaked, from the way his hand flexed, he was squeezing slightly. The mage moaned quietly, his own hand moving from his thigh. His hand began to match Tshion's movements against his own shaft, and Tshion's chuckle broke him out of the trance.
The mage's hand paused, then one finger circled the head of his own weeping cock, then trailed slowly down the shaft, over his balls, and further. Tshion's eyes widened as one finger slid into the mage, and his eyes flicked upwards to Jelah's rather wicked expression. Oh yes. Two could play at this game...
Tshion's hand stroked, Jelah's finger moved, awkwardly at first, then in time with the other. The battle of wills stretched on for several long moments before Tshion's head dropped back slightly, an admission that he was definitely closer than he wanted to be. He bit his lip, while the mage tried not to look smug. Sort of.
“Stop.” The word may have been quiet, but the tone was not negotiable. Tshion bit into his lip as he tried to stop at once, and found he couldn't. Jelah chuckled softly, then lifted a hand and gestured again. He opened a portal no larger than his hand, reached through it, and wrapped his still-damp fingers around Tshion's wrist, and gently drew it back to the arm of the chair. When the portal vanished, the band of ice was back around the paladin's wrist, leaving him squirming again.
After a moment of deliberation, Jelah opened another portal and reached through it. Tshion hissed as the mage's fingertips brushed against the tip of his cock, then yelped at the sudden -cold- sensation. /Oh, for Light's sake, he did NOT just.../ Tshion looked down, and his groan was half in despair, half in exasperation at finding the tell-tale ice crystals glittering at the tip. He looked up at the mage, who looked back innocently, as those fingertips traced random patterns over Tshion's head and shaft.
“You...” Tshion panted softly, “are going to pay for this...”
“I'm counting on it.” Tshion gasped at the heat in Jelah's tone, and he bit down on his lip again, nearly coming from that liquid-gold voice alone. The mage grinned, not missing a beat, his fingertips still tracing patterns. “You know quite well what it does to me when you drop the formality, pretense, civility and just get -on- with it and fuck me properly.” The hand withdrew. The portal closed.
Tshion shuddered, his hands clenched against the arms of the chair, and he tugged at the bindings again. The icy plug began to melt, and the trickle of cool water down the underside of his shaft was exquisitely cold against heated flesh, and he arched against it, even as his eyes stared at the mage, whose expression was now one of heat and want, one three-fingered hand wrapped firmly around his cock, stroking with abandon now.
It was more than the paladin could endure. He arched upwards, and kicked slightly at the bands around his ankles, tugged at the ones at his wrist, squirmed in the one around his chest, and they melted away. He stood up, shakily, and stumbled to the bed, where Jelah had moved to reach out and at once steady the paladin and pull him closer. The mage was, predictably, grinning, and his hand brushed Tshion's, passing him a small jar that had come from who-knows-where.
Jelah turned to crawl upwards to the head of the bed, and Tshion discovered that the mage had somehow managed to drape a towel across where their hips would be, turned down the quilt, -and- fluffed the pillows into a suitable position. He muttered “tiny portals”, and rolled his eyes. It was -just- enough of a cool-off for him to regain enough sense to open the jar and coat his fingers in the cool substance within.
Ignoring Jelah's protesting squirm, he took the time to run a finger along the mage's shaft, and pressed gently on the space just behind his balls, making the troll squawk in protest. Tshion chuckled and forced his own body to behave as he trailed the finger lower to circle the muscles of the mage's entrance.
“Tshion,” Jelah murmured, impatiently. “You know you don't need to do that...” Tshion didn't reply, just nudged the troll's knees further apart with his free hand and slid his finger in. The resulting hiss made him grin. He rubbed gently at the muscles with a second finger as he worked the inner one a little to each side, then added the second one. The paladin knew this was nothing but a frustration to the mage, though a pleasant one, having always done things magically instead of conventionally.
“I know I don't, but there's no reason for us to use magic when we're going to need everything tomorrow.” He looked up as he gently worked his fingers apart. “Besides, this is driving you to complete distraction, and it's helping -me- calm down a little.” The little moan that answered him made him smile as he pressed a kiss to one buttock. “Fear not,” he whispered, just loud enough so Jelah could hear him from among the pillows, “your legs will be numb for at least half an hour when I'm done with you.” He grinned as the troll's cock twitched. “And even then I might not yet be done with you.” He nipped softly at the spot he had kissed. “When you can't move, I'll call myself satisfied.”
The sheets tightened as Jelah's hands curled into them at those words. He knew Tshion could – and would – deliver that promise. Surviving until then was the trick. He was already so hard that he could feel the weight of it and he could feel the nearly steady drip. His balls ached, though he attributed that to watching the paladin write, then watching (and/or feeling) the paladin nearly lose control of himself no less than four times since leaving the common room. If he had to, he would admit that he was close to turning back over and pinning the elf to the bed himself, but he knew that while he had an important role in tomorrow's attack, Tshion was up against much worse.
It was the paladins' job to keep the bloodlust-crazed orcs from tearing everyone else apart.
He had to be relaxed, he had to let go of anything that would stop him from sleeping tonight – and all that pent up tension was going to feel so good when Tshion finally let go of control and...
Tshion's fingers brushed against -that spot-. Jelah's head dropped into the pillows and he moaned, the sound loaded with more than lust – longing, want, need, restraint, and...
“Tshion -please-! Stop teasing me, or I swear to the Loa I'm going to pin you down and it'll be you who can't walk!” Jelah's voice was slightly muffled by a pillow, but Tshion knew that tone all too well, even if some of the words were muffled a bit.
The fingers withdrew. Tshion dipped his fingers into the jar again and as he coated his own cock, hissing at having gotten just that much more sensitive, he chuckled. “Or you'll just explode.” He settled on his knees and carefully lined himself up, nudging the troll's entrance slightly. “Which is what I want,” he slid in, slowly. “But not yet; I want to feel it when you do.”
The moan that answered him was completely unrestrained. Tshion's fingers curled around the slight hips and he slid forward again, taking advantage of the troll's distraction to bury himself completely. Both of them hissed at this, and Tshion's arms wrapped around the troll's chest, his own lowering to rest on the warm, blue skin. Jelah wriggled. Tshion hissed at him. Jelah laughed.
And did it again. Tshion leaned to the side and sank his teeth into the flesh on the side of the troll's ribcage. Jelah arched, his hands clawing the sheets again. “Damn it, Tshion!”
Ignoring the outburst, Tshion ran his tongue along the marks, and slowly began to roll his hips, cautiously testing whether Jelah was ready. If the way the mage countered the move to make the roll harder than the paladin intended, then yes, yes he was.
Leaning back just enough to regain leverage, Tshion gave Jelah what he'd been asking for the past hour – or more. He didn't know. He didn't care. He began thrusting steadily, and he could hear the hissing “yesss” of the mage beneath him as he sped up. The paladin trailed his hands down and around the troll's belly, one arm lifting enough to hook around his chest, the other teasing his abdomen, deliberately not touching him, his forehead dropped to rest just beside one shoulderblade.
Time had taken its toll. Every movement was torture now, and it couldn't be fast enough, hard enough. Tshion pulled one knee up and out to one side, taking Jelah's leg with it, trying to find some way to gain more leverage. From the sound the mage made when he drove just a little deeper, consistently hitting the troll's sweet spot, he'd found it.
Jelah's head lifted from the pillows. His back arched. His hands balled in the bedding. Tshion felt the clenching, the twitching. His arms tightened around the troll, and he hissed, words he himself could only half understand, his mind half gone.
Tshion vaguely realized his mind was gone when he could only vaguely hear Jelah's desperate begging cries to touch him, finish him, do -something-, but he was determined not to; not after the torment he was subjected to earlier, not on a dose of mageroyal. The cries did nothing to help his own situation.
Hold on? Let go? What was it he wanted? The paladin hardly knew his own name as his body made decisions for him. His arms tightened. His hands clenched. His toes curled. His head lifted and words tumbled from his lips, warning, begging, negating...
Screaming.
The world went white.
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Last Breath