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"You claim to be naught but a familiar, yet I sense something more from you." Hermes's eyes were like chips of aquamarine, luminescent as he looked down at the figure before him. "I would know you."
And so the warrior of light stood in Hermes's dim chambers, shifting in her boots with a mix of trepidation and excitement. She was unsure of his exact meaning, what he expected here; but something drew her curiosity. She needed answers, and perhaps this would provide them. In a corner of her mind, her inner voice chided that she was once again only following her whims — a concocted rationale, and damn the consequences.
Hermes drifted into her frame of vision, slow and measured as those eyes continued their perusal of her. His long black robes whispered against the floor. "I wonder what the soulseers would tell me, if I asked them to describe you." His hands were folded behind his back as he took one step after another, circling to her front and continuing behind her. "You are unlike any other concept or familiar I have encountered, and yet there is something..."
He leaned forward as he came back around; on someone like Emet-Selch, she would call it looming due to his presence and personality, but on Hermes it was as if he was simply bringing himself closer to her level. Friendly, unassuming, even polite. She wondered if it was habit from interacting with Meteion, who was still shorter than her. The duality of his behavior intrigued her — a man who became the chief overseer, and yet carried a deep well of compassion for his charges.
One large hand reached for her, hovering close. "May I touch you?" At her nod those cool fingers brushed her cheek as he lifted a lock of her hair, letting the strands slip through his digits. The warrior failed to repress the shiver that ran through her at the brief touch. A spark kindled low in her belly and spread.
His eyes focused on her face, gauging whatever he saw in her expression as she stood still, breath caught. Finally his hand settled on her shoulder, nearly enveloping it.
"As Azem's familiar, you must be used to your master's eccentricities, so I hope you will forgive mine." Long, elegant fingers traced little patterns on her shoulder blade through the cloth of her created outfit, making it hard for her to concentrate. "Would you be comfortable removing your robe?"
Her hands went to the fastenings at the top almost without her conscious thought. She was disappointed when his hand slipped from her as he stepped back, but he watched every movement she made with rapt fascination, his gaze its own kind of touch. Ilm by ilm a gap appeared as her fingers worked, fumbling only a little under such close scrutiny while anticipation jangled along her nerves. Through lowered lashes she watched Hermes in return as she eased the robe from her shoulders and let it pool around her feet.
"Magnificent," he said. He lingered for a moment, and then resumed his slow orbit around her. She stood for him, in her shift and stockings and boots, warmth building within her, wondering what he was looking for. What did he see?
It was mild in the room, thankfully, yet goosebumps raced down her arms as she felt his robe brush her legs and his low, soothing voice appeared next to her ear. "Such a good familiar. Do you enjoy being told what to do?"
Sometimes it was a relief to not make decisions, to do as ordered. She would submit by choice. She nodded and a soft puff of breath stirred her hair.
"And your shoes?"
The warrior felt him move away once more. She bent at the waist to pluck at the knots, her shift riding high up the backs of her thighs. There had been no rustle of movement behind her; Hermes must have stayed in place, knowing exactly what he asked for. She hid a smirk in the meat of her arm.
With her boots removed and set to the side, he reappeared in front of her, skimming his fingertips up her bare arm. "I wonder why Azem made you this way. She certainly gave you her boldness and sense of curiosity." Hermes's touch continued over the sweep of her collarbone, drifting to feel the rush of her pulse at her neck. "Do you feel her drive for new experiences? Do you chase that thrill, of your own free will?" He flattened his palm and she felt like her heart would leap out of her ribcage to meet his touch, his hand covering the swell of her chest up to the column of her throat.
The warrior tipped her head back to meet his gaze, letting all of her interest, her desire, show in her expression. A smile curved his lips and she very nearly arched up into his hand, wanting it lower. Her nipples poked against the cloth covering them, hyperaware of the drag of the bodice against her skin.
"Show me," Hermes said, and without thinking she raised her hands to the straps of her shift, pulling them down over the curve of her shoulders and letting the fabric slip down her arms and off her wrists. The bodice hitched and dropped to crumple around her waist, and she gave a slight toss of her head, her hair falling back off her shoulders. She tipped her chin upwards as she stared Hermes down. His commands were couched in manners, a steel fist in a velvet glove, no less firm for how the words shivered down her spine and made her act on instinct.
Hermes's gaze dropped and stayed there for the span of a few heartbeats. The green at the edge of his eyes faded to a blue like the clear pools that dotted his beloved Elpis, lambent and curious without his white mask in the way. Shadows suited his angular face, defining his sharp cheekbones and the long line of his nose. She couldn't tell if he was flushing the same way she was, the tone of his brown skin too dark to tell. However, the heat in his eyes was unmistakable, and it stoked the desire in her like a feedback loop.
"Make yourself comfortable," he said, his hand pushing into her slightly as he nudged her backwards, and then he was retreating. The warrior backed up, blindly, over the puddle of her discarded robe, nudging her shift past the flare of her hips and stepping out of it as well. She bumped into the edge of some soft piece of furniture just as Hermes settled a chair a couple of paces away, and he paused, waiting.
A glance over her shoulder confirmed she'd reached a bed, and she looked back at him as she braced her arms and heaved herself up. Clad just in her stockings, she perched on the edge of the mattress, a flash of self consciousness making her hesitate. He sank into the chair — to just observe, to watch — directly in front of her, and that inner spark roared in challenge.
She let her hand drift across her abdomen, and Hermes's eyes tracked the movement like a hunter. "You've been such a good guest. You may bring yourself pleasure, if you wish."
Needing no further prompting, she cupped her breast, thumb gently swiping across the peak of her nipple, the bud tightening as she continued. As she toyed with her nipples, she let her legs fall wider, opening herself to his close scrutiny. Being watched in this type of situation was completely new territory for her, and she found she was enjoying it far more than she expected. It was thrilling, to have the entirety of his attention, to stoke the fires of desire in herself and show him what her own touch was doing to her. It was a heady power she wanted to test, to flex, to use.
The warrior ran her fingertips down over skin to the knit of her stockings, sweeping back up over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, brushing close to the juncture of her thighs. Bracing herself on one hand to lean back a little, she let the other hand cup the curls at her apex, only slightly surprised by how hot and wet she found herself. His words, his directions, his gaze, had done much to ignite her. With eager fingers she spread herself open and looked directly at Hermes through the fringe of her lashes.
Hermes was leaning forward in the chair, arms braced on his thighs as he watched her with an intensity that sent levin sparking along her nerves. Due to his position, she couldn't tell if he was as aroused as she was — but she hoped. His eyes glittered under the sweep of his inky hair, drinking in every detail of the little show she put on for him.
Dragging his gaze up her body, he finally noticed her stare. A smile curled his thin lips. "It seems being observed is enjoyable to you. Continue."
She didn't need the permission, though his commands still ticked something in her subconscious. Her middle finger slipped through her folds easily, leisurely gathering wetness, teasing the both of them with touches that didn't quite hit the mark. When she finally brushed the hood of her clit with one slick finger, a tremble raced through her body and she let her eyes close to better focus on the sensations. Slowly building, the warrior traced patterns and circles around the nub, falling deeper into a trance of pleasure. Unconsciously she drew one leg up and planted her foot on the edge of the bed, shifting the spread of her legs.
A soft cry finally passed her lips. Her other hand fisted the bedclothes, her working hand shifting and adapting as her hips writhed. She paid no mind to the fact that she was the source of the only sounds in the room, her quiet noises of pleasure and the decadent slip of wet flesh against flesh.
Hermes's dark, sinful voice pierced through that haze and hypnotic beat of her own frantic pulse in her ears. "Are you making those lovely noises because you want to please me? Or are you genuinely enjoying this?"
The warrior cracked her eyes open and managed to focus on Hermes through heavy eyelids. Catching her lower lip with her teeth, she canted her hips towards him, as if to show him how good she felt, how much she wanted him to watch her fall apart under her own hand.
He was at the edge of the bed in the time it took her to blink her hazy eyes, eyes bright as he looked down at her. "You're being so very good. I think you deserve a reward."
At her jerky nods he grasped her thigh, enveloping and pinning it in place. His other hand traced up her leg to her core, deftly avoiding interfering with her own ministrations. She let out a whimper as he teased at her entrance.
"Oh, you do so want this. I wonder, do you need it?" He slid one long finger into her, unresisting with how wet and ready she was. The warrior let her head fall back on her shoulders, straining against the pressure of his hold on her leg, to buck up and take more.
A second finger joined the first and she sped up the stimulation to her clit. It was just right, filling the empty feeling inside and giving her something to clench—
Hermes crooked his fingers and found the soft, hungry spot inside her, and she let out a breathless gasp as the coil of pleasure inside her wound tight, tighter, inexorably hurtling towards that edge into bliss.
"Yes," he murmured above her, "take what you've earned."
The warrior came with a sensation like falling into the stars, bright and hot and every nerve singing. She collapsed onto the bed, shivers of pleasure zipping through her limbs. Hermes's fingers coaxed her through the aftershocks of her orgasm, drawing one final sigh from her as they slipped out. Her eyelids fluttered open in time to watch him suck his fingers clean of her, bringing a fresh wave of heat to her cheeks.
His hold on her thigh gentled, turned to petting as she lay boneless and sated on his bed. "Azem truly created an exceptional familiar. I look forward to further demonstrations of your qualities."
The warrior smiled and lifted her arms to reach for him, an open invitation.