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As soon as she is certain that Bren's footsteps have faded—he has gotten lazy with it, telegraphing his movements, forgetting to quiet his steps, as if he had learned nothing from the master at all— Astrid pushes Eadwulf into the nearby wall.
He lets out a grunt, but says nothing as she unbuckles her belt, all of her frustrations being released as the leather snaps and pulls.
"Who does he think he is?" she mutters, taking one of Eadwulf's hands that have begun to wander on her waist and pushing it into her pants. His fingertips find their target quickly, small practiced movements and the rough texture of his callouses making her shiver even as she continues.
"Es tut mir leid," she repeats mockingly, smothering her own quiet groan as Eadwulf's finger probes inside her, smearing her own arousal over her clit to smooth his ministrations.
"He is nothing," Eadwulf reassures her, wrapping his other arm around her waist and tugging her closer so he can kiss her neck. He finds that spot he always does, biting down until she starts to squirm. "A coward."
"Yes," she gasps. Whether she is encouraging the actions or the words, it is unclear, but he continues with both regardless.
"To think he could ever be stronger than us, than you." He pushes another finger inside her, stretching her open and seeking that spot inside her that will bring her pleasure. "You are the strongest of us Asa, and you have always known it."
"Yes," she gasps again, rolling her hips to drive him in deeper, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. A part of her wishes she had taken off his shirt— with it on, she cannot see the way his skin breaks beneath her fingernails, or the blood that will be left behind. She supposes that is what she gets for being impulsive. "Yes, Wulf, yes, you—"
He finds that spot within her and she smothers a moan by biting her own lip until she can taste iron, the bitter tang of it only pushing her closer to completion.
She needs this, needs the relief, needs to forget about Bren, forget about Wulf, even, and focus only on this— her goals, her strength, her pleasure.
"That's it, Asa," Wulf whispers encouragingly, fingers a steady rhythm within her, familiar and well-practiced.
She finishes silently, only a quiet gasp escaping her lips as she shakes in his arms, then quickly straightens, catching her breath and pulling his hand out from her underwear unceremoniously.
"We should return, the master will be asking for us." She says curtly, redoing her belt with ease.
"Hmm," Eadwulf hums, licking his fingers clean and earning a eyeroll as Astrid then follows the action with a Prestidigitation. She hated that habit of his, always so unclean.
He grins at her micheviously after she casts, but stands up straight from where he had been lounges against the wall.
Astrid glances down briefly, at the erection he has developed despite the brief escapade, and waves a hand at him.
"Take care of that before we return," she instructs dismissively, earning yet another grin from the man.
"Yes, ma'am," he responds, pushing his hand into his own pants as Astrid turns and begins planning their route back to the Halls.