Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Resurrection II: Cloister of Trials ❯ Cloister of Trials ( Chapter 4 )

An oil lamp flickered in a small alcove in the wall above the bed. The flame carried a faint scent of spices, not that any were needed just now. The heady perfume of Lulu's sweat and sex still wafted through the narrow room in the aftermath of the ravishing Auron had given her a short time ago. Now she knelt across his legs and feasted her eyes on the muscular swordsman's body beneath her, his arms stretched behind his head and bound loosely to his own sword-hilt. She had jammed the blade of the weapon beneath the mattress, so that the weight of his head and shoulders would hold it down. A flimsy artifice, but it would serve.

 

Oh, but Auron did not look the least bit helpless with his wrists bound together by a simple cloth sash. A sardonic gleam was in his eye as he watched Lulu settle over him. Naked, pinned under her against the sheets, he lay in perfect repose, his arms relaxed, his face maddenly calm. A man unruffled by all kinds of fiends, who would raise a jug of sake in a toast to Sin on the brink of armageddon, was hardly likely to be discomfited by a witch, however lovely, and a mere scrap of linen.

 

Lulu liked challenges, especially when they presented themselves in such attractive packages. She had decided that firelight suited him best, for it revealed every contour of sinew and muscle, every weathered line and scar that gave his skin character. As one who took a certain pride in appearances, she was also well aware that her own bare white skin was bathed in a soft golden-red glow by the same lighting. She shone with fire as Shiva shone with ice.

 

The mage was putting on a show for him, dark lips curled in an arrogant smile. Her expressive hands slid up her thighs from her knees, weaving back and forth. With her crimson eyes firmly locked upon his face, she began to sway her hips, her shoulders, moving in a sinuous slow dance that flattered her voluptuous curves. Her fingers drifted past her sex with a flourish, crisscrossing in lazy spirals over her navel and around the inward nip of her waist, working her way upwards with luxuriously sensual caresses that made her shiver, remembering his strong calloused hands. She stroked under and around her breasts, slowly circling towards her nipples until her thumbs rubbed over them, coaxing them to stand out sharply. Rising higher, she traced the delicate lines of her collarbones and shoulders that bore a few telltale marks from his rough play, and ran her nails up the side of her neck and throat.

 

His singular gaze noted every detail of her performance with keen attention, and his breathing had quickened noticeably.

 

Lulu paused and arched over him, bringing her face close to his. Her taut nipples just barely brushed his chest. "So," she remarked in a throaty whisper, "are you enjoying the view?"

 

Auron gave no reply, of course, but the twitch at the corners of his mouth was concisely eloquent. That would be a yes.

 

Lulu smiled. The terms of this "Trial" were surely child's play for the laconic warrior. The real test was hers: make it enough of a challenge for him that he might, just might, lose his grip on his stubborn self-control.

 

She sat up again, although she longed to kiss that smug, reserved smile until it melted into raw lust. Undulating her hips slightly so that the fringes of her soft fur petted the head of his penis, Lulu slipped her right index finger into her mouth. Still holding his gaze, she drew it slowly in and out, full lips moistening her white skin until it glistened. Her mute observer grimaced faintly and pushed his hips towards her, but she moved in synch with him so that the prize was always just slightly out of his reach.

 

The concentration knitting Sir Auron's forehead was a promising sign.

 

Having imposed no such rule on herself, Lulu gave a throaty sigh as she closed the finger and thumb of her left hand over one of her nipples and teased herself before his smoldering gaze. She continued to suck her finger, pumping it sightly faster, while her left hand roamed her body. Eventually, after skirting her sex several times, she let two fingers slide down through her dark curls. Her warm flesh still flushed from his attentions, and she felt a soft drumbeat of delayed pleasure the instant she touched herself. "Mmmmm." She removed her finger from her mouth and leaned slightly forward to trail the wet fingertip across his stomach.

 

"I can still feel your hands on me," the sorceress whispered. "In me. I wonder if you'll get that far again tonight. Can you feel yourself... here?"

 

She pressed the two fingers farther into her folds.

 

"Here?"

 

Deeper still, and she jumped as she pinched the sensitive hidden nub.

 

"Here?"

 

Lulu plunged her fingers inside, marveling at the lingering heat there. With a husky, musical sigh, she began to work her hand in and out, knuckles bumping against his legs. "I can," she panted. "Your fingers. Your hand. Your cock in me, riding me until I can't think or breathe." Lulu's self-pleasuring was not silent; the smack of her fingers was clearly audible above the faint hiss of the flame and their ragged breathing.

 

Auron's hands clenched one over the other, and she saw his vision turn inward for a moment as he struggled for self-mastery.

 

Lulu's fingers were stirring to life a throbbing need. She kept stroking herself until she was beginning to find it difficult not to spear herself on him then and there. Her breath caught between her teeth when she slipped her fingers out and stroked their wetness across his upper thighs. Then she crawled up his body again and bent close to lick his cheek. "I want you in me, Auron. It's all I can do not to take you right now."

 

The swordsman watched her stoically, his smug smile settling back into place. Both knew perfectly well who had won that round.

 

Lulu smiled down at him. "First puzzle finished," she pronounced, bringing her fingers to his mouth and touching his lips. He sucked deeply, tasting her sweet juices for the second time that evening.

 

Exhaling, she drew her hand out again and caressed his cheek. "Next puzzle... I think you said something about fur as well?"

 

She saw the anticipatory glint in his gaze and grinned slyly. Oh, no, that wasn't what she had in mind, at least for the present.

 

Lulu reared up and threw her head back, shaking out her damp hair. The beads of her braids clicked behind her. Catching two braids in each hand, the mage began to trace almost the same route on Auron's magnificent body as she had demonstrated to him a short time ago. The beads and damp tresses skimmed lightly up his well-muscled thighs. She made a few taunting feints towards his straining member before bypassing it and moving higher. His lower body jerked, but he held out, closing his eye and breathing deeply for a moment to collect himself. When he refocused on her face, he smiled grimly and licked his lips. Lulu laughed out loud at the almost cheeky gleam in his eye.

 

Auron's ordeal eased slightly when she reached his stomach. Lulu let herself play over his skin, painting it with consummate strokes, following the slight hills and valleys accentuated by the flickering lamplight. She dipped the tip of a braid in his bellybutton, danced up the sides of his ribcage, tickled his chest and nipples, and traced invisible glyphs and signs over the canvas of his skin, paying mute homage to his body's splendor and the weathered tracks of old scars. Still moving upwards, she drew the plaits past his armpits and stroked her way up his arms with soft, nuzzling strokes. As she toyed with the ticklish skin of his inner arms, his hands shifted restlessly against his bonds. His body, however, was starting to relax.

 

Not for long. Auron jerked in surprise when a wet braid abruptly smacked across his cheek. A second later, Lulu brought another whipping down across his chest, hard enough for the bead to leave a sting. The style of his deadly swordplay had inspired her to invent a new game especially for him.

 

She mimed a kiss to him as he struggled to get his features back under control. He shook his head slightly, a faint hint of amusement in his grimace even now.

 

Lulu smiled wickedly and went on. Alas, she had to take her eyes off his face as she began to seek out all his most sensitive places, but the faint hiss of his breath between his teeth told her when she had scored a hit. Now and then she glanced up to monitor his expression.

 

The swordsman's body shifted restively under hers as she rained gentle torment over his flesh. She lashed the beads against his skin with firm, crisp snaps, or paused to caress and stroke him with the loose ends. The pattering torment was startling, yet in time he began to acclimate to it. Gradually the muscles of his face and brow relaxed. Waiting until his eye had drifted halfway closed, Lulu abruptly cast one braid down towards his groin with a twisting, spiraling motion.

 

Snap.

 

The sinews stood out in Auron's arms, his hands clenched, and his body arched away from the bed, but somehow he managed to remain mute. His features knitted with strain.

 

The wet braid unwrapped and fell away from his shaft, which was jutting away from his thighs like the prow of a ship over the sea.

 

"Shall we try that again?" Lulu murmured in her most alluring whisper.

 

The raw emotion in his gaze was hard for her to read, but she assumed by the way his chest rose and fell that Auron was mentally preparing himself. Lulu dangled a braid teasingly against the base of his member, stalling, although the next stroke could hardly be a surprise. With a quick motion that he could not properly see, she palmed the bead at the end of the braid- she did not want to hurt him. Predictably, he tensed at the sudden movement. She gave him a little more time to ponder, then slapped the cool, wet braid down at an angle to encircle his manhood like a snake coiling around a branch. Her black hair spiraled around his tawny flesh. There was aching poetry in the sight: if only it were really so easy to tether him to life! But at least she had disproven his doubts once and for all: there were ways to coax the most life-affirming of instincts back into the battered shell he wore.

 

Lulu paused to tickle the firming flesh of his shaft with gentle caresses, careful not to brush against it with her knuckles.

 

Auron watched with fervor, following the flash of her arms as she moved, the graceful motions of her hips, the supple swing of her breasts with every beat of this intimate dance. She was fully aware of his gaze burrowing into her as she skipped over his skin, plashing stinging slaps over his chest, his belly, his legs, or bathing him once more in feathery strokes. Sometimes he jerked or shuddered as a bead caught a sensitive spot. His shaft was arching away from his body now, silent testament to the groans he was holding in. Again Lulu was tempted to end the torture early. How much could he take before it became more pain than pleasure? Sir Auron's breathing had grown raspy, but he remained stubbornly mute, radiating a raw, animal strength like a predator waiting for just the right moment to spring.

 

The mage's nimble hands flew faster and faster, until finally she circled in to lavish her attentions on his cock. She yearned to take him in her mouth, but stubbornly postponed that prize for later. The braid she was chiefly using had begun to unravel, and the wet strands fell around his manhood like ribbons of silk. Auron twisted against the sheets, thrusting his groin towards her. She wanted to answer the silent demand. Instead, she trailed all four braids up his body and folded herself over him again, a hint of compassion in her eyes. "And that was the second passage," she whispered, brushing his hair out of his face. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his brow. Yet he regarded her almost coolly. Her stomach did a flipflop at his eerie self-control, reminding her in an odd way of Yuna's steel-willed smiles. There was a feral intensity to his gaze, yet his expression had relaxed as soon as she stopped tormenting him. When she drew near enough for a kiss, however, Auron pounced on her passionately. The pent-up power behind his fiery kisses nearly robbed her of her senses.

 

Lulu buried herself eagerly in his mouth, cradling his head in her hands. His silence had affected her too; Lulu made no sound as their tongues thrust and strove together. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and his aching erection shoved pleadingly against her stomach.

 

Not yet, she was forced to remind herself yet again, feeling the answering heat and need throbbing between her legs. She had not told him how many "trials" there would be, but she had promised him at least one more.

 

There was still fire and ice.