Skyrim FanFiction, Skyrim Erotica, and More
WARNING: This story contains graphic sexual content.
Arnbjorn walked back into the cave just before nightfall, a string of salmon slung over one shoulder.
It felt good to be back in White Knife Grotto. It had been his home for almost two years, after he’d left the Companions. He remembered each passage as if it were a spot on his skin that he hadn’t caught sight of for years. Each chamber an old memory filled with the smells and tastes of a simpler life.
Violent, sure. But simple.
No assassination plots. No Friends. No wife.
In the main chamber, light flowed down from a dozen shafts in the ceiling—giving everything a pale glow. There was an underground stream flowing through the middle of the room and a series of granite shelves that were festooned with blanket of moss and flowers. Every once in a while a few blue-winged butterflies would wander down and flit among the flowers and the darkness.
Lost creatures, searching for the world above.
It had always been a beautiful place. That’s why he’d chosen it before. Beautiful and isolated—the perfect place to hideaway in solitude.
But he wasn’t alone anymore.
Narova didn’t look up from the fire as he climbed the mossy shelves, but he saw one of her pointed ears twitch and heard her take a deep breath, pulling in as much of his scent as she could.
She always did that when he came near.
She was naked from the waist up, sitting cross-legged with that strange sword she’d brought back from the marsh in her lap—working the edge with a sharpening stone and oil cloth. Her small breasts shifted and bounced as she rubbed the stone along the blade.
Arnbjorn liked that Narova took good care of her weapons, but he liked watching her body move, more.
“Catch anything?” she asked, still keeping her attention on the sword.
Arnbjorn dropped the string of fish on a flat stone next to the fire. There were half a dozen—more than enough to feed them for a few days more. He didn’t know why he’d caught so many. Hoping they’d stay a little longer, he guessed, even though he knew they couldn’t.
“Salmon,” he said.
He sat down across from her and situated himself among the loamy ground, finding a comfortable spot. Finally, she looked up at him. Fixing those dark, elven eyes on his face. There was always a hunger in her—a primal need. Nobody had ever looked at him like that before.
“And I’ve caught you,” she said.
He nodded at her sword. “Been wondering about that blade. It’s strange seeing you with it. Got tired of daggers?”
She looked down at it, frowning a little before wiping the edge one more time with the oil cloth and slipping it back into the wooden scabbard. It made a clicking noise as the hilt met the sheath.
“The man I took it from used it well enough. I guess him nearly killing me with it convinced me of its…potential.”
Narova set the sword aside and picked up an iron dagger. She gutting each fish deftly, ran them through a wooden skewer, and placed them over the fire. Then she sauntered down to the steam and washed off her hands. Splashed some water on her face and breasts. She came back and stood over him, one hand on her cocked hip.
“Those’ll be a while. Any thoughts on what to do until dinner?”
Arnbjorn smiled and stood up. He yanked off his leather jerkin and pulled at the laces of his pants. Shucked them down and tossed them aside. His cock was already half-hard.
Narova look down at him and licked her lips once. Then she stepped forward and kissed him—her tongue pushing softly against his.
For someone who he knew for a fact had killed dozens of men—Narova Blackhair’s kisses were surprisingly soft and sweet.
As they kissed, Arnbjorn massaged one of her breasts with his hand, cupping it in his palm. She moaned lightly as he pulled at her nipple. Felt it harden under his touch.
Her hand drifted down between his legs. She stroked his cock a few times, pumping it to a full erection, and then ran one nail lightly from the base of his balls all the way to the tip.
Arnbjorn let a groan escape, and felt a small drop of pre cum form at the tip of his cock.
Narova pulled back from his mouth, kissed his neck.
“Awfully eager,” she whispered in his ear. “We’ll be done long before our dinner if you keep that up.”
She placed both hands on his shoulders and pressed him down. He fell to his knees, and dragged her leather pants off at the same time. She wriggled out of them with a sexy shake of her hips that made Arnbjorn’s cock get even harder, if that was possible.
He looked at the small triangle of soft, black hair between her legs. Saw the outline of her lips and the tip of her swollen clit.
Then he pressed his face against her, licking her clit slowly a few times. He put both hands on her ass and picked her up, guided her onto the soft ground in front of him, and spread her legs apart.
He put his tongue as far inside of her as he could. Letting her juices fill his mouth and run down his chin. She tasted like the forest at dawn—dewy and fertile and full of life.
As he licked her, she moaned and ran her fingers through his hair. Pulled gently at one of her nipples with her left hand.
After a while, she pulled him up and kissed him hungrily—licking the sides of his mouth and neck.
“From behind,” she whispered. “I want it from behind.”
Narova twisted around—her lithe, pale skin moving like milk in the twilight of the cave—and bent over on all fours. She spread both hands out wide and pushed her ass into the air.
A beautiful thing to look at.
Arnbjorn inched forward on his knees, grabbing her right ass cheek and squeezing—watching how her pussy spread out. Then he positioned himself so his cock rubbed back and forth against her clit, spreading her lips wide with each slow motion.
“Mmmmmm,” she moaned. “Stop playing around and get inside me.”
Arnbjorn didn’t need to be asked again. He pressed the swollen head of his cock against her slit and pushed. She was so wet that he slid halfway inside of her almost immediately. She was warm and tight around him.
“Yesssss. All the way in.”
He pushed in some more until his balls were up against her clit. The air was full of sex and lust and the sound of Narova moaning. Arnbjorn started moving in and out of her in slow, deliberate strokes—letting his cock come almost all the way out before thrusting it back inside again.
Arnbjorn loved how deep he went inside of her. Loved the way her scarred back looked in the dark light. Loved the way she filled her fists with earth and squeezed down harder with every thrust of his cock.
He leaned forward, reached around her hips with one arm and went between her legs. Found her clit with his fingers and started rubbing it in circles. Kept pumping his cock in and out of her—faster and faster and faster.
“That’s it, that’s it. Fuck me as hard as you can,” she gasped. Arnbjorn could feel her juices running down his thigh and see her skin start to flush. Her entire body about to climax with pleasure.
“Put your finger up my ass,” she said, pressing her forehead into the ground.
“Just fucking do it!” she yelled
Arnbjorn took his hand off her clit and leaned back. She had a beautiful ass—made even better by the sight of his cock filling her pussy right underneath. He shrugged and then pushed his thumb up inside of her. It slid in easily—tight and warm.
He put his other hand on her shoulder and started fucking her as hard as he could. Grunting and moaning and starting to feel his balls tighten with pleasure.
“That’s it, come inside me,” she purred. “Come deep inside.”
That set him off. He squeezed down on her shoulder, pushed his thumb deep inside of her ass, and started pumping thick streams of cum into her pussy. As he came, he felt the walls of her ass start contracting, and then heard her gasp and moan she came at the same time.
He stroked his cocked back and forth a few more times, letting the last few spurts of cum out inside of her, and then pulled out and crashed onto the ground beside her, panting from the effort. She rolled around to face him. Her face was flushed deep red and there was blood on her lip from where she’d bitten herself.
“That was…” she said between gulps of air, “certainly something.”
Arnbjorn smiled and kissed her again. “Finger in the ass, huh?” he asked.
She shrugged. “You should let me try it on you sometime. Might be surprised.”
He grunted. “Life’s pretty full of surprises as it is…but it seemed to work pretty well for you…” he looked away, embarrassed all the sudden.
Narova smiled at him and put a hand on his face. Moved a strand of his silver hair away from his eyes.
Those were the things Arnbjorn liked about her the most—that she could fuck him like a wild thing one second, and touch him like that a moment later.
“Thank you for bringing me here. This has been…” she trailed off. Opened her mouth once but closed it again without saying anything. Then she rolled away from him—fixed her eyes on the darkening ceiling above.
“Whatever it is, we can’t stay any longer. There’s dark work to do.”
Arnbjorn nodded, knowing this moment had been on its way since Narova woke up in the cave two days ago. Hoping it would have arrived a little later.
“Tomorrow, then,” he said.
Narova closed her eyes. For a second, Arnbjorn thought he saw a flicker of doubt run across or face. But disappeared just as fast as it arrived—like a lightning bug flashing on a summer night.
“Tomorrow,” she said.