After weeks of rebuilding, cleanup, political roundtables, and a thousand other things that were required to get the kingdom stable once more, Sorsha was exhausted. The seemingly endless battles against outlying villages to purge the followers of Bavmorda had made all of the knights of Galladoorn more than a little tired. Patience had begun to wear thin.
When Sorsha was finally able to untie her long red hair she could feel the tension release from her scalp. Hearing the soft sounds of Elora Danan as she fussed her way to sleep in the next room brought a gentle smile to her face. The baby was not something she had planned on, but was everything her heart needed.
She unlaced her armor and removed one piece at a time careful to store it safely in the trunk by her bed. The soft jingle of her mail collar as it sunk into the wooden chest reminded her of childhood memories. It was the first piece she was given after archery training. She brushed her fingers across the firm links, feeling the cold soak through her hand. Her eyes closed briefly and she breathed in the familiar smells of leather and iron.
A quiet creak from the corner of the room snapped her from her fancy and her muscles instinctively tightened. The door pushed open and her breath caught, waiting for what was on the other side. It was a smile. A grin more like. Always that damned grin.
“It’s about time you came to bed. Do I have to do everything around here myself?” she said, with a light tone.
Stretching his arms above his head in an exaggerated yawn, the grin didn’t leave his face.
“Someone has to make sure Tir Asleen is run properly and as I’m the only one with those particular skills, I suppose it should be me.”
The grin belonged to Madmartigan and he had begun sloppily taking his armor off and tossing the pieces to the floor in a pile. Pulling a mud stained boot off his foot, he tossed it across the room accidently knocking a water basin to the ground with a crash.
Rolling her eyes, Sorsha stood and began extinguishing the candles that lined the hall. Shadows played across the walls as she moved from one candelabra to the next. The dim glow of the fire in the hearth guided her back to their bed and she looked at him expectantly. The room began to quiet as the last bit of Madmartigan’s armor fell to the ground with a soft thunk and his heavy foot falls softened as he approached her.
“You are my sun, my moon, my starlit sky, without you, I dwell in darkness.” He whispered dramatically as he threw the covers back.
She couldn’t help but smile. His shirt hung open and she could see his chest rise and fall as he let out a breathy laugh. She balled her fist and with a grin she playfully struck him in the arm. Catching her by the wrist, in one swift motion he rolled her onto her back and gently pinned her to their mattress.
His long dark hair cascaded around her face and she studied the features of the man she had come to know so well. The light in his eyes, the ripple of his muscle where his arm met his shoulder, the familiar warmth that radiated from him. His lips met hers for the thousandth time, but her breath caught as if it was the first.
Days and days of fighting, missions, orders, and responsibility were cast aside in that moment. All that was left in the wide world was his mouth on hers. With the sheer levels of exhaustion that they both felt, one would assume it to be a gentle kiss. One would be wrong. Madmartigan pushed onto her with his entire being. His mouth moved expertly from her lips to her neck and back again.
Her hands tugged against the fabric of his shirt and he stopped kissing her long enough to tear it over his head. His smooth skin rippled in the fire light and her fingers greedily dug into the soft curve of his shoulders. Without giving her time to protest Madmartigan balled up the fabric of her dressing gown and tore it from her. The sounds of ripping fabric and her angry gasp were quickly silenced when his mouth found hers once more.
The rough callouses on his hands felt deliciously raw and vicious against her smooth skin. His lips moved farther south and quickly found harbor between her breasts. Expertly moving from one to the other he caused her back to arch and her legs begin to tremble. Tangling her hand in his hair she guided his efforts. One sweet morsel to the next.
“I’m glad you wanting to worship me has returned” she moaned, pulling him up by his hair to kiss him again.
Forcefully she pushed him off of her, making him roll onto his back. Tossing her long hair away from her face, she grinned and gracefully threw a leg over his waist. Poised above him, she waits. Letting herself linger, watching the pained expression on his face as she teased him. Slowly she lowered into his lap, letting her fingernails dig into his chest and leave searing pain trails in their wake. He cringed at their initial impact and then groaned happily.
For a warrior there are few things that can leave you utterly satisfied. A strategy playing out exactly as it was meant to, a perfectly balanced weapon, and the delicious feeling of a cock buried like a sword in a sheath. Her hips began rocking against him as her mouth greedily savored his. She kissed him with passion and then began leaving bite marks down his neck and onto his collarbone.
“Oh my love, I needed your cock inside me.” She groaned into his ear.
Her years of horseback riding had made her the perfect rider both on the battlefield and in bed as well. Skillfully bouncing up and down she felt him fill her over and over again. He gripped her hips and thrust in rhythm. Slamming himself against her in an almost desperate fashion.
Feeling his body tensing beneath her she let out a feral moan and allowed herself to release. Her hands grasped at her own breasts, pulling and twisting savagely. Soon her legs began to tremble and she could feel his pace quicken.
“Oh gods, Sorsha.” He groaned.
Sitting up and wrapping his arms around her he slammed himself deep inside. Both of them shaking and gasping for air. A symphony of lust and climax. The two of them a tangle of satisfied bodies, unsure of where one began and the other ended. Letting gravity win this particular battle, they collapsed onto their bed. Whispers and smiles and soon soft, even breathing of sleep danced off the stone walls.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/pd44os/willow_1988_fanfic_madmartigan_and_sorsha_nsfw