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When Nefer first stripped herself down to her underwear and draped a string of moon-pearls around her neck, she didn't think much of it. She's done sillier things to get Lauma's attention, after all. Like the time she devoted several hours tending to the animals around the island, all to make sure they'd stop interrupting her and Lauma mid-fuck.
Her nonchalance disappears entirely when Lauma steps into the room and locks eyes with her. From where she's perched on the bed, Nefer feels like prey.
Lauma stares at her, eyes widened and lips parted, stopped in her tracks for once, and Nefer lets out a shuddering exhale, suddenly feeling as if she can't breathe right.
"What is this," Lauma says. Her antlers glimmer in the moonlight. They're longer than usual, tall and sturdy and making Lauma tower over her even more than usual. Her antlers only get like this under the full moon, under the languid kiss of her goddess' blessing.
Nefer knows first-hand how they feel to the touch, oddly cold and rigid and especially sensitive towards their root. Lauma lets her run her hands over them sometimes—usually after Nefer puts on her beggiest voice.
Now, she says, "I heard you have a ritual."
"Where did you hear that," replies Lauma. Her hands flex by her sides as she stares Nefer down, clenching into fists before relaxing just as quickly.
"Does it really matter?" Nefer says.
Lauma doesn't reply immediately. For a moment, Nefer wonders if she's made a mistake, if Lauma doesn't actually like this as much as Nefer wants her to, and if she should feel silly about doing all of this. Maybe it's blasphemous to try to imitate one of the Scions' rituals, and maybe Lauma doesn't appreciate this at all.
She's tempted to pull off the moon-pearls, maybe put her clothes back on, maybe apologize.
Then Lauma is on her.
Her hands fall on either side of Nefer, fingers scrabbling for Nefer's hips as she presses close. Lauma's skin is warm and flushed and she shakes a little when they first make contact, before she presses even closer like she can't bear to be apart from her.
"Ah," Nefer gasps out, losing her balance and falling backward. Lauma catches her before she hits the headboard—then she makes a displeased sound in her throat. Shoves herself up against Nefer, breasts pressing against her own, crowding her in, so close that Nefer can't move, can barely breathe without feeling Lauma's breaths too.
This is…certainly different. Lauma is normally a gentle, courteous lover—even when she's fucking Nefer open on her cock, she likes keeping a hand on Nefer's cheek and the other on her hip, brushing against her as she whispers how pretty she is.
But this version of Lauma is rougher around the edges, more animalistic.
And then there's the scent of her, something earthy and intense and something Nefer doesn't think she's ever noticed. It's impossible to miss now.
Lauma's broad hands fall to the backs of Nefer's thighs, urging her legs to spread, and she whimpers Nefer almost subconsciously. Doesn't even have the shame to look embarrassed at how easily Nefer's name falls from her lips.
"I'm here," Nefer whispers, and Lauma's eyes fall to her lips. She looks as if she might lean forward, but she doesn't.
Her fingers burn warm spots against Lauma's skin, and she squeezes gently.
"My love," Lauma murmurs, "May I—"
"Yes," Nefer breathes, not knowing what Lauma is actually asking for. All she knows is that she wants her. Hasn't wanted Lauma this bad in a while ("a while" being something like three days, probably, with how often they end up in bed together).
So she lets Lauma pull her thighs apart, wedging herself in between so she can't close them again. Lauma looks more pleased when Nefer's thighs bracket her body, letting out a satisfied grumble before she glides her hands up and down her thighs. She doesn't venture near the hot, wet space between Nefer's legs. Just feels the skin around it, as if that could ever be enough.
And there's the issue of her cock. Nefer can't help but buck her hips reflexively when she feels Lauma between her legs, hot and hard and thick. She tries pressing her hips closer. It's not enough—it could never be enough—but it could close the gap, at least.
Lauma does nothing for a moment—just stares at Nefer, watches her squirm in her lap and vainly try to get some friction. Her nose flares from the spike of arousal in the air, how Nefer's languid scent has turned red-hot.
But then Nefer tries doing it again, desperately seeking friction. She finds that her movement stops short. Lauma's darted her hand from her thigh to seize Nefer by the hip, keeping her still.
"My love," Lauma says, voice soft and gentle in spite of the firmness she's holding Nefer with.
Her pupils are blown when she looks at Nefer, her desire clouding out any semblance of normalcy.
Lauma is breathing so ragged that her shoulders heave with the effort of calming herself down—she must think she's scaring Nefer, as if this isn't the hottest thing Nefer's seen in her entire life.
Nefer strains against the hold, of course, because that is how they have always worked. One of them sets boundaries (or tries to), and the other one pushes against it, rams her shoulder against it until they give way. Last week it was Lauma coming into the Curatorium with that blonde traveler in tow to try to beg a favour out of Nefer, despite Nefer's line in the sand that she would never meddle in Fatui matters. And look how that turned out.
Nefer's revenge comes like this: Lauma is trying to keep her still, trying to get her to behave, so she tries to lunge up to kiss Lauma. The end result is almost laughable. She doesn't budge. Can't.
She is so upset that Lauma hasn't kissed her yet, that she's simply watching her in that unsettling, intense way of hers. But Lauma keeps her pinned down, strong and firm and unmoving.
"Lauma," she whines, hoping the anguish comes through in her voice and goes straight to Lauma's cock instead of the brain she usually uses. She can't believe Lauma hasn't kissed her yet.
"And I thought you wanted this distance," Lauma breathes.
Nefer blinks, too confused to be horny for a moment. "What?"
"You've been acting like you can't stand me, my love," Lauma says, pouting a little. "When you sent Jahoda today, I thought you didn't want to see me."
"Don't be ridiculous," Nefer sighs. "I always want to see you. But I might not if you just keep staring at me."
Pointedly, she stares down to her thigh, where Lauma's hand is still settled. The longer Lauma holds her here, the more aware she becomes that she's being held in an unnatural position.
"You're giving me joint pain."
"Oh," Lauma says.
And then she leans in and presses her lips against Nefer's. She slips her tongue into her mouth, does that thing where she whimpers into Nefer's mouth because she's so excited and can't help herself. Even though nothing's really happened, even though nothing might happen if Nefer is feeling particularly teasing (though she thinks nothing short of the sky falling could change things right now).
And her hands don't move from where they are, so Nefer shivers and tries to lean upwards and has to contend with the fact that Lauma is practically bearing down on her, licking into her mouth and whining. She just holds her there, eyes alight with desire and lips parted.
"Hurry up," Nefer says when they pull apart, "Please."
"Okay," Lauma tells her. "Okay."
Okay is what leads Lauma to sling Nefer's legs over her shoulders and fuck her so eagerly that Nefer screams.
She's so big—has always been, has always made Nefer feel like she was being cored out, as if Lauma was forcing her body to rearrange itself around her. Nefer has had her fair share of lovers, but none can compare to Lauma's sheer size.
Everything about Lauma is large, which is imposing when she wants to be and maddeningly seductive even if she doesn't care to be. Those doe-eyes of hers that've made Nefer make more than one silly decision. Her tits (which have also made Nefer make silly decisions). Her hands are broad and strong, scarred from when she's used them to help the Scions.
Nefer will never find anything better.
And Lauma's cock. Archons above, her cock. If it weren't plunged deep inside her right now, Nefer would spend her time worshipping Lauma properly, keep her warm with her mouth and let Lauma use her as she pleased. It's not as if she's never done that before, gotten on her knees somewhere in Hiisi Island and let Lauma fuck her face and cry out so sweetly.
"My dear," she gasps as Lauma speeds up. The noises they make against each other are obscene. If she had her wits around her, she thinks she might have the sense to feel embarrassed. Maybe she might worry that the other Scions may hear, may know that she gets to bed Lauma like this.
No. Fuck that. She doesn't care. Better that they know and get it in their heads that the Moonchanter may be theirs, but Lauma is hers.
"Keep going, keep—ah!"
She might never get used to the stretch. Especially not when Lauma is even more keyed up than usual, when she's fucking Nefer like she's in rut. Her enthusiasm makes her move faster, more recklessly, almost as if she's trying to push her way into Nefer's womb.
That'd be good, she thinks dreamily, crying out when Lauma delivers a particularly vicious thrust. It would never work, and Nefer doesn't think she could ever suffer a child. But if Lauma wished it, if she wanted to see Nefer pregnant…
Lauma's buried her face in Nefer's neck while she fucks her, making the string of moon-pearls around Nefer's neck rattle futilely against each other. Soft ah-ah-ahs spill from her lips and pool in the space between them,
"You're so pretty, my love," Lauma murmurs when she lifts her head from Nefer's neck. She watches her in wonder as Nefer throws her head back and bites her lip hard, an almost pained expression crossing her features.
"So tight," Lauma pants, "You feel so good. Do you want me to keep going?"
"What a stupid question," Nefer blusters, "Keep going! I didn't dress up like one of your sacrificial offerings for you to stop—"
"Is that what this is," Lauma says, her hips suddenly slowing. "What ritual did you hear about?"
"Jahoda told me about it," Nefer says, and then winces because mentioning Jahoda during sex might be the closest thing to a mood-killer in this situation. "She said the Scions have a special fertility ritual, something involving a young girl dressed in pearls. She didn't say much beyond that."
Lauma laughs softly, "Well, I think she got her wires crossed—that's our ritual for rain. The pearls symbolize our goddess' tears. And we let boys do it too."
"I see," Nefer says, and then chokes when Lauma speeds up again, her cock bullying Nefer's sopping wet pussy open and filling her up once more.
"Let me tell you the ritual for fertility," Lauma says softly. She keeps her voice steady, even as she slams into Nefer with fleshy slaps, even as Nefer digs her heels into her shoulders. "Do you know how the Moonchanter's blood heals injuries and illness?"
Her fingers find Nefer's clit, and she swipes at it gently, rolling and pinching it and giggling quietly when Nefer's hips twist. Nefer likes having her clit played with, or her pussy fucked, but not usually at the same time—it overstimulates her and makes her uncomfortable. Not now. She'd pulled Lauma's hand to her clit and warned her in low tones that she had better touch her clit, or else.
"Surely… you don't mean to tell me," Nefer pants, and Lauma finds herself staring at her tits as they bounce, almost hypnotized. She wonders how her tits would look swelling with milk, how she could take some of it for herself.
"You don't mean to say that the Moonchanter sleeps with all who want children."
"Only those she deems worthy," Lauma growls, and Nefer comes.
–
"Please tell me you aren't bedding all the Scions," Nefer groans later, arm thrown over her eyes. "I don't think I could share you like that."
Lauma laughs. "No, my love."
She kisses the corner of Nefer's mouth.
"The ritual's a lot more complicated than that."
"Ha-ha," Nefer replies. Her eyes shoot open a moment later when Lauma doesn't reply, "Wait, just to make sure—you're joking, right?"