For the last several minutes, I've been throwing furtive glances towards the big Markynaz talking to Prince Daeinde.

He tops the Prince by at least seven inches; he could nearly look my brother Dalmoth square in the eye. Daeinde has to tilt his head back when speaking to him, but he doesn't seem to mind. I can see that he's as attracted to the Dremora as I am. It shows in the way his red eyes sparkle, the tilt of his head, and in the low, intimate tones in which he speaks.

I get the feeling that they've been together in bed before. Most of Daeinde's male guards have shared the Prince's bed at one point or another; he has a well-deserved reputation for being rampant. He is also, however, known for his reputation for treating his lovers with great respect and kindness, even becoming friends with most of them. The Prince's desire for this one is obvious on his handsome face, and I don't blame him at all.

The Markynaz’s shoulder length, red streaked black hair is barely restrained in a simple tail, and several strands have sprouted out around his long, curved horns. Dremora tattoos swirl across his handsome face. He does not wear the full Daedric so often sported by high-ranking Dremora. Instead, he wears a long, sweeping black leather coat that reaches nearly to his ankles. Beneath it, he wears black leather trousers and boots. Rather than a shirt, he wears something that looks like a collection of tightly fitted buckles and straps. I catch an ever so slight glimpse of silver rings, one decorated with an Oht sigil, decorating his nipples. The sight of it makes my mouth feel a little dry. Despite the sexy attire, he is clearly one to be reckoned with: an enormous Daedric Dai-katana is strapped to his back.

I have only had one partner since discovering Tezrith's true allegiance, and it has been a while since we have been together in bed. He is a good friend to me: I do not give myself to those who are not at least a friend. He is not Kyn, however. It has been a while since I have been with a Dremora, and the Pull is upon me.

My gaze lingers and grows bold upon the Markynaz, and this time, he catches me. His eyes narrow slightly as he takes me in; I feel a heated blush move over my face. I lose my nerve and turn away, ready to leave, but then Daeinde's voice calls to me.

"Rae'vn! Come. I wish for you to meet someone."

I can hardly refuse the summons. Daeinde is my friend, but moreso, my employer: it is he who decided that Nirn needed more than one or two happenstance heroes at a time. Also, it was he who assisted Meridia in the creation of the Manitou. She wished that her servants have Dremora blood, and approached Daeinde to use that of his guards. Daeinde took it a step further, and, for reasons of his own, insisted that she make use of his own blood.

Swallowing slightly, I smile and approach the Prince and the Markynaz. I bow, paying my respects to them both. "Rae'vn, this is Lord Shal'ir Kamaya, late of Dagon's service. Lord Shal'ir, this is Rae'vn, daughter of Elara, who was Guardian before."

I gave the Markynaz my hand. I am not petite--I can look Daeinde in the eye in my bare feet--but the Dremora's big, black hand nearly engulfed my own. “Well met,” he rumbles, the sound of his voice reducing my knees to scrib jelly.

“The…pleasure is mine,” I manage to say, hoping that my voice does not betray my nervousness, or my desire.

“Well, if you’ll both excuse me,” Prince Daeinde says, wearing his ‘Damn, I’m good!’ expression that makes me want to throttle him at times, “I do believe that Atrios has something that he needs my assistance with.”

Shal’ir merely smirks, but the words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself. “I’ll just bet he does! Are you going to lend him a helping hand or two, my lord?”

Daeinde laughs. Patting my arm he tells Shal’ir, “Watch yourself with this one, Shal’ir. She’s feisty, and a real handful.” He winks at us, then strolls off towards his private chambers, leaving me alone with this incredibly gorgeous male.

Shal’ir turns to me. His intentions are obvious in his eyes and though I want him as well, I feel uncertain. “I know of your preferences,” he tells me. “Let it be known that I want you, Rae’vn, and if I could not respect your needs, I would not take you.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. He makes his desires clearly known, yet also, makes it clear that he will not simply use me to fill a need. “I—all right. If you will follow me, my lord?”

When we reach my chambers, it happens quickly. Shal’ir pulls me against him, kissing me hard, teasing my mouth with teeth and tongue. When I dare to lick at his lips, he seizes hold of my tongue with sharp teeth, pulling it hungrily into his mouth. I whimper, the sound becoming a growl when his hands slip inside my shirt.

I pull at his clothing, but he pushes my hands away. “No. You first, my dear.” He makes short work of my clothing: the dark blue silk shirt, the leather trousers, my sword belt. My undergarments quickly follow. Before I can reach for him again, he shoves me onto the bed.

“Stay there,” he snarls when I make to get up again. As I watch, he pushes the jacket off his shoulders and drapes it across a chair. The rest of his clothing quickly follows, and I see immediately that his nipples weren’t the only thing pierced on him. The sight of the silver ring decorating his rigid flesh sends a delighted shiver through me.

His tattoos are fluid, almost serpentine. I want to trace them with my fingers and tongue, especially the ones decorating his most intimate places. I swallow again, mouth dry as he approaches the bed.

Likewise, Shal’ir takes me in as well, smiling. His sharp, white teeth gleam brightly against his black skin. I wonder how that skin will feel under my hands as he takes me. “You are beautiful,” he tells me, and joins me on the bed.

I am ready for him, which pleases him greatly. Without another word, he pulls me beneath him and slips smoothly inside. “So…so are you,” I gasp. The exquisite feeling of being skewered on that thick, hard length makes it hard for me to think, much less speak.

“Rae’vn,” he growls in my ear before biting it sharply. I squeal in surprise, then turn my head to give him the same. He growls again as my teeth bite hard at the joining of neck and shoulder, his jaw, his face.

“Feisty, yes. I like that.” He thrust harder and deeper, stopping only when he could go no further. He snarled in pleasure when my claws dug deeply into his buttocks, holding him to me. “Lift your legs,” he ordered. I whimpered as he slid in deeper still.

Again he stopped, looking deeply into my eyes as though searching for something. Perhaps he had found it for he took my mouth in a surprisingly gentle kiss, murmuring words that I could not make out as we coupled.

“Harder…please!” I sob, needing him so badly. It’s been so long for me, and while emotionally I need a connection, my body is craving a good using. “I need you!”

“You want it hard, wench?” he snarls. He nips hard at my face and jaw, still taking me with slow, gentle strokes. “Do you want me to use you? Then you shall have it!”

Shal’ir pulls back and slams in, over and over. Almost immediately I feel my climax coming on, my muscles squeezing him hard as he crushes me into the mattress under his powerful body. The scream wells in my throat, my claws raking at his back and butt—

I awoke to my own cries, shuddering all over once more. I had been very close to orgasm, and I lay there trembling with unfulfilled lust. My scent was strong in the air, and anyone nearby would find it very obvious as to what my dream had involved.

As I came out of the dream and became more fully awake, I felt strong, warm arms wrapped around me from behind. A gentle hand smoothed my hair, occasionally stroking my ears and neck. Atrios made soft sounds, little hisses and clicks as he soothed me. Sharr used to do something in a similar way, I recalled, both here, and when I was still trapped on earth.

Still exhausted and too shaken from the vivid dream memory to fuss about it, I leaned into Atrios and let him fuss over me. In spite of the sexy dream, I knew that something had caused me to collapse earlier, and it obviously had him concerned.

“Is Daeinde here, too?” I wondered to myself, only the have the question answered when the Prince said, “Wow! That must have been some dream, my dear.”

I opened my eyes to look at him as Atrios hissed his amused agreement. “Aye,” I said, even as I blushed. “It was. I dreamt of the day I met Shal’ir. You introduced us, and then you walked away with this smug “My work here is done!” look on your face, and then…well, nature took its course.”

Daeinde chuckled. “And so it has been ever since. I knew that you both would be well suited, and that you and Sharr would suit as well.”

I nodded. “I remember him telling me about Sharr, right after we were finished. He would keep no secrets from me, and it didn’t bother me at all. We really are well-suited to each other. Speaking of, where are they? Why have they not yet come to see me?”

Daeinde chuckled, and even Atrios hissed his amusement. “So impatient! Some things never change. At this moment, your lads are performing a very important service for me.”

I couldn’t resist. “Well, seeing as your sitting right here, it’s not the first thing that comes to mind.”

The Prince gave me a scowl of mock ferocity. “I see that you’re as facetious as ever. Perhaps I should ask Atrios to give you something else to do with that mouth besides sass your elders.”

He didn’t! I made a small sound that resembled “Meep!” as both Daedroth had some mirth at my expense. “So…um. Am I to understand, Atrios, that you and I…in the past—“

“Yesss. After Tezrith. Before Shal’ir, sssometimess after, too.”

“Oh. My.” My face felt as hot as the Flame Atronach’s skin against mine. I pondered his words for a moment: it felt right, though I had no solid memories of it yet. “Was I fun?” I asked him at last.

I heard the smile in his voice as he hissed, “Very nice.”

“As I was saying,” Daeinde interrupted, pretending to glare at us both, “your lads are doing something very important.” He exchanged a glance with Atrios before continuing. “They are in Cyrodiil, investigating some rumors for me.” His eyes twinkled. “I gave them amulets similar to the one that Atrios uses, and they make for a very handsome Dunmer and Altmer. I should think that it will come to nothing, however, one can never be too careful with things these days.”

“What about my brother?” I asked. “Can he not also be of assistance?”

“His duties as acting Guardian are too important for me to pull him away from that.”

I tried to sit up, but Atrios held me firmly. “Well, you have me back,” I said, relenting and allowing myself to be cuddled some more. “I can do it.”

Daeinde shook his head. “We can’t risk you. I’m sure you understand, my dear, that you are nowhere near ready to be out in the field again. You’ve always known that you would need a significant period of rest and retraining upon your arrival home.”

I sighed deeply. “Aye. It never hurts to try, though.”

Daeinde patted my shoulder. “Of course not. Now, since I know you will ask, Shal’ir and Sharr aren’t checking into anything dangerous or world shaking. I simply asked them if they would make certain that all is well amongst my worshippers. Nothing major…just the usual business with stupid but well-meaning mortals lumping me in with the bad lot. I sent them to infiltrate the local torch and pitchfork brigade and to as non-violently as possible cause their plans to go awry.”

“Yeah, that always sucks,” I said. “You’d think mortals would have the sense Julianos gave them to understand that Princes like you or Azura or Meridia aren’t like the rest.”

“Aye. Well, it seems to be an unwritten rule of existence that jerks exist to spice things up.” Still naked, the Prince climbed off the bed and stretched. “Take care of her, will you, Atrios? I’m going to spread the word that the Guardian has returned.” Daeinde slipped on his robe—purple silk—and tied it. With a wink and a grin, he vanished from the room.