Elliot’s sigh mixed with the chill air and formed a little cloud of mist. The Office of Municipal Integration didn’t have any insulation to speak of, and most of its ground-level space was lined with windows that let the cold in. Writing up certificates of aegis was a struggle when the internal temperature called for gloves.
No writing today, however. It was Yule, a day and night of celebration and relaxation that meant no work was getting done in the city of Layman-upon-Waters. Elliot could have been soaking in the atmosphere of any of the open taverns, restaurants, music halls or emporiums in the city proper, or even those closer to home in the Low Town. Dancing by Lantern was right around the corner – he could hear the shouting and singing from here. There would be heat aplenty, drink aplenty, enough to wash away his dour mood. There would be friendly faces, welcoming arms. Yule was a time to reconnect with loved ones, and Elliot would have happily sought a few in particular. They would have distracted him from his malaise well.
But celebration didn’t sit well with Elliot today. That was why he was here, counting out the unfiled requests for a certificate of aegis that had accumulated towards the end of his absence. Nobody would receive them in the Castle today, but he was heading up there anyway. He could post them to the scriveners on his way to the dance in preparation for when they restarted work in a couple of days.
Recalling his social responsibilities made him groan aloud. Elliot sat back on his chair and let his head tip. He stared up at the rough wood of the ceiling. He let his limbs hang by his sides, as limp as the paper piled up on his desk. Elliot didn’t feel like attending to the Castle right now. He wanted to linger in the mire for a little longer.
It had been three weeks since the cancellation of the Battle of the Old Saint’s Dungeon, and the beginning of formal negotiations with the Demon Sorceress and her monstrous horde. Elliot and Sam had come together following their respective dialogues in the dungeon’s antechamber. She had hugged him, which had been nice of her. She had asked to speak with him about something unrelated to their quest when they had time. Then he’d introduced her to Delilah, and the work had begun.
The Old Saint’s Dungeon had become a busy place. Delilah had invited representatives from the gathered human factions together to discuss terms, and Elliot hadn’t recognised most of them. There was Sam, of course, standing for the Accord as a whole. A Layman garrison commander by the name of Gregory once his forces arrived two days later, then the three lords leading the local union of affected settlements. One of them, a wide-shouldered man with a charming smile and rich, walnut skin, had slapped Elliot on the shoulder and asked if he’d had fun in the dungeon like he’d heard. Elliot hadn’t known how to respond to that, so they had parted awkwardly.
Clerks and stewards, bannerets and bodyguards. A great host to fill the dungeon’s main hall, with more arriving each day. So Elliot had been surprised when he alone had been denied entry.
“I was told you are a civilian,” said a tall man with white hair and a hook nose. “While we thank you for your endeavours thus far, Elliot of Layman, you had better leave this work to the professionals.”
Elliot had glimpsed Sam’s apologetic smile. Then the doors had sealed shut between them, and he’d been left out in the cold.
In the first days of the negotiation, there had been plenty to distract him from the unceremonious end of his role. Delilah’s fort had been open to him, and he’d explored the battlements, the dens and the kitchens. He’d met some familiar friends. Yudeka had known plenty about the fort’s history and was more than willing to give him a tour. Noya and Nadezha had warned him away from the goblin barracks where, he was told, the mood was ‘positively feral’ thanks to all their handsome guests. Down in the armoury, he’d met a woman who was half-spider who asked him where she could find Sam. When told she was in a meeting, the spider had asked Elliot if he knew any good boys who’d be up for mating instead. Yes, there had been plenty to keep him busy.
Jayce and Sasha had sympathised, and Elliot had enjoyed the long nights with the two of them, drinking and reminiscing on their short quest. Elliot had shared a little more than was wise. But the mood had been jovial, and he regretted nothing. Not when the two guards had shared just as openly. They’d all said plenty of nice things about Sam…
He’d wanted to see Sam again. He’d wanted to see Delilah again. But the talks had gone long into the night, and both had opted to sleep in rooms in the fort itself to remain close to the action. Elliot had one morning glimpsed the Demon Sorceress striding from the kitchen to the main hall with a slice of bread in her mouth, but she hadn’t seen him, and he hadn’t wanted to disturb her.
The bitterness at being left out only grew as more and more Accord representatives arrived to add their voice to the crowd. More and more people, strangers, who got to spend time with those Elliot had wanted to see. After all he’d been through with them, it didn’t feel fair.
But the Demon Sorceress’ work went beyond just one man, he knew that. He knew it was selfish to make the plight of the subjugated monsters of the continent about him. But the resignation left him as cold as the stone of the Old Saint’s Dungeon. And not the smiles of its residents, nor the food or booze in its kitchens, could warm him.
As such, when Gregory of Layman had appeared before him one morning with a solemn smile, he hadn’t fought the man’s suggestion that he go home and rest. The office would need its overseer again, and Thaddeus would be chomping at the bit for news. Yule was approaching, and Sasha and Jayce both had family in the city who’d appreciate their presence. Leaving a simple letter for Sam in Gregory’s care, Elliot had restocked their light wagons and set out for home.
He’d been quiet on the return journey. No storm had assailed them at Water Crossing and, to his dismay, no bandits had accosted them by the eastern edge of the forest. There had been little to talk about, so he’d spent much of the trip sleeping.
And now he was here. He was home. The whole Demon Sorceress matter was concluded, for him at least. It continued outside of his scope, beyond his ability to comprehend. He wasn’t a part of that story anymore.
Elliot leaned forward and ran his thumb down the stack of papers on his desk. Ten requests for a certificate of aegis. It was a light load compared to previous months. He wondered if it would get busier in the new year. A part of him hoped it would, just so he’d feel useful again.
A rowdy cheer from down the road made him grimace, as if he was the subject of ridicule or was being witnessed at all. This pathetic laziness would be the death of him if he let it keep eating away at him. And his posture was likely creasing the fine green and gold coat he had been gifted by his father for tonight’s dance. He had to represent the office tonight, and it wouldn’t do to come off as slovenly.
Bones creaking and muscles straining, Elliot pulled himself to his feet. He glanced at his reflection in the window beside his desk. He smoothed down his thick, brown hair and brushed at his freshly shaved cheeks. He sighed again. Then he tucked the papers under his arm and made for the Castle Road, locking the office door behind him.
* * *
“Do I look alright?”
Jayce grinned. “As if you need to worry about a thing like that.”
“Get in there and knock ‘em dead, Princess,” said Sasha.
The guards didn’t wait for her signal. They turned and grabbed the ballroom doors, then pulled them open.
It was like stepping into a dream. She remembered this same room being used on a Yule night five years ago. She remembered the merriment, the scent of wine and sweet food, and the crackling of the twin hearths. She remembered the residual frustration of an admonishment from Lady Arranea after she’d used an incorrect composition of ink on her latest exam. And she remembered, now at least, a wide pair of teal eyes on her, big and flattering. She tried not to hold too tightly to that memory, since it was making her feel small. She stepped out of the apprentice she had been and into the adult she now was.
By the door, the master of ceremonies bowed, then raised his voice.
“The Lady Samantha of High Tower! First Ambassador to the Alliance of the Shadow!”
The ballroom shook with applause, and Sam stood tall against the onslaught. The castellan’s noble peers, his high administrators, a handful of guests from beyond the city, all smiling and clapping. A couple of bravo’s; that was nice. The urge to touch at her hair and hide herself was intense, but she fought through it.
His eyes almost undid her good work. Elliot looked lovely tonight in a fresh-ish coat of fine thread in Layman’s colours. He was holding a mug, though he was currently at risk of dropping it. He’d combed his hair, likely with his fingers. And those eyes… Sam remembered hating Elliot’s doe-eyed stare at the beginning of their journey. Now, with those teal orbs on her once more, she didn’t recall why.
Sam stepped into the ballroom. The dance floor was mostly clear in preparation for music, so she didn’t have to skirt around anyone. Her dress flowed about her ankles and revealed her soft, red dancing shoes, and her blue waistcoat, trimmed with white in the Accord colours, hugged her waist to keep the dress’ long, Yule-red sleeves tempered. It fit well for an off-the-rack outfit. The tailor, a young woman called Hawthorne working out of the noble quarter, deserved to be commended for her speedy work.
She’d had the spider Tomi braid her hair into a woven pattern fit for a princess back at the dungeon, and hadn’t that been a pain to preserve during the long days of travel from Old Saint’s to Layman. But she was confident she had maintained the integral knots of the arrangement ready for when she danced. It had been so long since she’d last danced…
In the corner of her eye, Sam spotted Castellan Thaddeus with a small gaggle of important local nobles. Sam could have named each of them. The elderly Lord Asterley seemed very keen on meeting Sam and set out towards her with a beaming smile, but Thaddeus held him back with a knowing smirk. Sam nodded her thanks.
As such, she and Elliot came together without intrusion. She bowed to him in their shared Castle style, extending one leg from under her skirts and dipping over one arm. Elliot hurriedly mimicked and predictably flustered when he came close to tipping wine onto the varnished wood floor. Sam giggled.
“You really haven’t changed,” she said.
“S-Sam,” said Elliot. “I… I didn’t expect to see you.”
“This is my home city, and it is Yule,” she replied. “Where else would I be?”
“How about up north with the Demon Sorceress, First Ambassador?” His smile was rosy, very charming. “Does this mean the negotiations are finished?”
“Please. I am good, Elliot, but I am not that good. Building the legal foundation for an entirely new nation will take more than a few weeks. That work may even outlive us. But it is Yule,” she said, smoothing her skirt down her thigh, “and we were tired. Delilah agreed that some time at rest will benefit us all.”
“Oh, of course. Well, I’m glad,” said Elliot. “I’m… really glad you’re here.”
Sam nodded. “As am I.”
The silence lingered, then stretched. Sam realised she didn’t know what to do with her hands. Elliot was looking about with the idle smile of a man desperately seeking something to talk about. So when the trill of a pipe flute announced the beginning of the dance proper, Sam sighed with relief.
“Thank the Almighty,” she said. “Dance with me.”
Elliot set his mug aside and awkwardly stepped with her to the centre of the floor. Other couples were quickly joining them, since the mood was right for it, heavy with unspent tension like a thick cloud of lightning. The little overture on the flute revealed the opening dance as The Water Carol, a simple number to get everyone limber. Sam held out her hands with her palms up, and Elliot placed his fingertips on hers with a firm, resolute set to his lips that made her want to laugh.
“I trust you can keep up,” she teased.
Elliot smirked. “Even I know this one.”
A long note on the viol, and they began. Sam and Elliot bobbed at the knees in the traditional bow. Then, timing their steps with the strings, they began to walk in a circle around one another.
“For what it’s worth,” Sam said as they danced, “you haven’t missed much at Old Saint’s.”
“No?”
“We learn this at High Tower, but it has still surprised me how granular negotiations of this scale become. Down to individual words, even.” Sam held up her hands and met Elliot’s, and they reversed their walk with arms steepled between them. “We debated the inference of the term ‘contingency’ for a full two days before scrapping it entirely.”
“Sounds dreadful,” he replied. But his lovely eyes were shadowed, and his smile was tight.
“I am sorry you were left out of the arrangements,” said Sam. “Truly, I would have taken comfort from your being there.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have brought anything of value.”
“That is not what I said, is it?”
The next steps of the dance had them linking arms and making a wider circle around the dance floor in a series of hops. Three forward, one back, then two in place. Elliot’s eyes were focussed down on his shoes, and his arm was rigid under Sam’s hand.
“Elliot,” she asked, leaning against him, “why does Delilah say the word ‘diplomacy’ with such a lascivious edge?”
The tilt of his head gave away the man’s lack of guile. The curve of his lips… Was that pride she could see?
“I don’t know what you mean,” he replied.
“She’s very fond of that word,” said Sam, smirking up at him. “She uses it often, usually with a waggle of her eyebrows or the touch of her hand on my shoulder. As if it means something slightly different to her.”
“Who can understand the mind of a Demon Sorceress?”
“I suspect you can.”
Elliot rolled his eyes.
“She misses you,” said Sam. “She asked about you often, and I was ashamed to not have more to tell her. You clearly left an impression on her. We have all used that impression to make headway towards a lasting peace with her people.”
“Hm,” he said.
“Elliot, I am serious.” The dance called for them to reverse their hopping into a counter-clockwise cycle, but Sam gripped his arms before he could complete his turn and held him still. “I won’t have this ludicrous humility from you. Not when I agonised so long at not being able to thank you.”
He frowned down at her. “My contribution-…”
“…-won’t be written in detail in any Accord of Regents records, perhaps,” she interrupted, “and your name isn’t attached to any great milestones in the development of the Alliance of the Shadow. But I saw the difference you made. The way you touched the heart of the Demon Sorceress has been vital to our work, our work. And the Accord demonstrates its folly by not acknowledging that.”
Elliot stared down at her. A gaudy couple took a looping step around them to continue the dance, and Sam felt the woman’s skirt brush against hers at her back. Still she held his gaze. She gripped his attention and refused to let go. Elliot licked his lips.
“U-Um,” he said at last. “You… You look lovely tonight.”
Sam smiled. It was better than nothing. “Thank you. I am pleased to see you have put in some effort also.”
He smirked, then let himself be led back to the dance. As the song grew more complex, their proximity closed. Elliot put his arm on Sam’s opposite shoulder and held her hand as they repeated the hopping steps from earlier. He was warm against her, and his steps were just a hair out of rhythm. He was thinking too much. It was enough to bring a giggle to Sam’s lips.
“So, you appreciate my outfit?” she teased.
“It’s fantastic,” he replied instantly. “I love what you’ve done with your hair.”
“Truly?”
“You look just right for the continent’s leading ambassador.”
“Charmer.” She leaned close against him and lowered her voice. “But you wouldn’t prefer to see me naked with your semen up my back?”
Elliot choked. Half way through a hop forward, his foot slipped and brought him down to a kneel on the dance floor. Sam, hugged against her partner, went with him. She howled with laughter as Elliot clumsily tugged them back into the rhythm of the dance under the curious, amused eyes of the crowd.
His face was red as beetroot as he returned to the steps. “Y-You remembered!” he gasped.
“It took me far too long, but yes. I remember. I remember you, Elliot.” She nuzzled against him as their looping march took them into sight of the western hearth. “Right over there is where I accosted you. You refused to finish my drink because you’d had enough. That was not a line I acknowledged that night.”
“S-Sam, I-…”
“Much like our work with the Demon Sorceress, your impact went uncredited even as it shaped my future,” she continued. Sam could feel her face heating against his shoulder, but she pushed through. “Even when I couldn’t recall your face, I did so enjoy being taken roughly from behind with later partners. Memory is curious like that.”
“Sam! D-Do I… need to apologise?”
Sam grunted. “Whatever makes you ask that?”
“You were drunk! And I… I…”
“You followed my instructions like a good boy, and you gave me a rendezvous worth remembering, even if I didn’t. I regret only that I didn’t recall you sooner.”
The music crescendo’d, then concluded. The couples on the floor all turned to face one another and bow. But Sam didn’t bow. She reached up and brushed her hand across Elliot’s glowing cheek.
“If I had recalled you,” she whispered, “we could have had so much more fun on our journey.”
The dancers applauded the musicians. There was a great deal of laughter and shouted requests for more songs. Local favourites dominated, but also a few from further afield.
But Sam and Elliot only had eyes for one another. Sam licked her lips, then slapped her hand down on his shoulder.
“Come, fetch me a drink,” she said. “I am parched, and I shall need fuel if I am to keep dancing with you.”
“Right. Of course.” Elliot offered her a hesitant smile as they departed the dance floor arm in arm. “But there’s a lot of other people here who’d like to talk to you too.”
“Oh, I fear I shan’t have the time. I have far too much to say to you. After all, there may be much more I have forgotten of our time together. You shall have to remind me of every little detail.”
“I see.” The reverberation of his laughter through his side, pressed against her shoulder, felt marvellous. “That’s good, then. Let’s get you that drink.”
* * *
Sam bent over with laughter. She held tight to Elliot’s coat as she guffawed into the Castle corridors. Elliot could see red on her cheeks and tears in her eyes.
“N-No, no!” she gasped. “No, it was… it was more like…”
She straightened and spun into Elliot’s path, planting a hand on his shoulder and directing a lopsided, coquettish smirk up at him.
“Sam, dear, why don’t you come up to my room and help me with my diplomacy strategies. W-We may need all n-night.”
Sam fell against him. She laughed into his chest, and her hands were tight claws on his coat.
“Every evening!” she sniffed. “Every single evening! Without fail! That hopeless woman!”
Elliot hugged her. Sam was overheating from the dance and the wine, the endless conversation. He imagined steam should be coming out of her ears. At least they were out of the ballroom. The stone corridors were chill, just as they had been five years ago.
And close now, very close, a dark cupboard. There was no way she had led him here by accident.
Sam snuggled against his chest with a contented sigh. Some of her lovely spider-braids had come undone in the long locks of her hair, and her blue waistcoat buttons were loose at her front. Elliot suspected at least one had snapped off. On his own side, a red wine stain marred the green silk of his new coat. But after all the dancing, it was a wonder more damage hadn’t been done.
It had been a long evening, and true to her word, Sam had spent every moment by his side. She had teased him and coddled him, tugging him about to different tables and insisting he try different food and drink. She’d interrogated him on his childhood and his time in the Castle. When others had approached to take her attention, she had given them a moment before politely excusing herself.
And she had danced! Elliot’s feet ached from trying to keep up with Sam’s incredible stamina on the dance floor. She remembered all the local movements, plus a wide variety of dances he’d never heard of. And all delivered with a fond smile and her own unmistakable grace. She had laughed at him when he hadn’t been able to match her flexibility, as had Jayce and Sasha watching from their posts at the sidelines, but she’d still insisted he join her for the next one, time after time.
Why? What had he done to deserve this miraculous woman’s attention? Who was he to command such interest from one like her?
“Elliot,” she sighed now, still deep in his embrace, “I must tell you a secret.”
“Absolutely,” he replied.
“And you must promise not to laugh.”
“Of course.”
Pushing off him, Sam turned about and leaned back against his chest. She took Elliot’s hands and played with his fingers. If there had been servants around, no doubt they would have thought the two of them lovers.
“I have much work left to accomplish at Old Saint’s,” she said softly. “My next opportunity to take time for myself, I shall attend to my nominal home of High Tower.”
“It’ll have been a while since you’ve been back.”
“Precisely. And when I arrive… Elliot, I plan to court someone.”
He stiffened, but Sam was in motion. She gripped one hand tight and held it above her head. She spun on the stone slabs of the corridor, hair and skirt flying. Her blue eyes were big and shining, her cheeks aglow with amour.
“I plan to court a fellow woman!” she sang.
He stared. Sam’s eyes, her spinning concluded, were tightly fixed upon him. She read his expression with a keen, vulnerable stare. Then she scowled.
“I asked you not to laugh.”
“I-I wasn’t. I’m just surprised. I didn’t know you… liked women.”
“I like women and men!” she said with a sharp grin. “I like them both!”
“I see.” He squeezed her hand and smiled for her. “That’s great, Sam.”
Sam giggled. This many cups of wine into the evening, she was starting to sound like the Demon Sorceress. “Ask me about her,” she commanded, swinging his arms back and forth.
“Is she pretty?”
“Oh, Elliot! She’s a picture!” Sam put her hands in her hair and shook with passion. “I could drown in those lips a happy woman! And her scent is divine! Even first thing in the morning, she smells of fresh flowers! I do not know how she does it!”
“What’s her name?”
“Marie! Ah, Marie! The name of an angel!”
Elliot was laughing solidly now. He couldn’t help it. “You’re smitten.”
“I am. And as with my fleeting memories of you, how I wish I had realised it sooner. My wrist aches from all the letters I am sending to her, Elliot. I must keep her interested for when I return and confess my love to her. You understand.”
“I do. But Sam, why are you telling me this?”
Her big eyes blinked up at him. “You are not interested?”
“Oh, I am! It just came out of nowhere.”
“Did it really?” She looked about the corridor, back and forth with a sweep of her head. “I had thought the inference of this particular stretch of Castle would speak for itself.”
The air stilled. Elliot’s heart pattered. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Elliot…”
Sam lunged. She gripped his coat and pulled herself against him. Elliot almost toppled.
“I am about to proposition you for a repeat of our night together five years ago,” she said with a fiendish grin. “And when I do, I wish for the expectations to be set well in advance, as is proper in… diplomacy. Do you see what I mean?”
He did. Elliot stroked her arms, savouring the feel of the thick silk of her dress. “We won’t become lovers,” he said.
“We shall remain friends,” Sam amended. “There is yet much I don’t remember about you, or about myself. And this is a way for friends to come to an understanding of one another.”
Elliot narrowed his eyes. “Did Jayce teach you that? This sounds like his thinking.”
“H-He might have,” said Sam with a fresh bout of fluster.
“Did you and Jayce-…?”
“The point is,” Sam snapped, “I wish to sleep with you. I believe such will allow me to explore the depths of my affection for you. But I also wish to be your friend. Thus, this is not a proposal of marriage. This is just… just…”
“Just two friends figuring one another out,” said Elliot. “I understand.”
“And is that well?”
Her beaming smile, her shimmering eyes, the heat of her body in his arms. Sam, intelligent and lovely and powerful. A dear, dear, dear friend.
“It’s very well,” he said with a smile.
“Wonderful.”
Sam turned, taking his hand and pulling him along. Unlike five years ago, her pace was steady and strong. She knew exactly where she was going. Elliot followed on with an eager thudding in his chest and an excited stiffening in his trousers.
“So, hold on,” he said as they marched towards destiny, “you like women?”
“Mm-hmm, I do.”
“Have you had sex with Delilah?”
Sam cackled. Yes, it really was the same laugh.
“You ask because of all her outrageous flirtation? No, I never had the pleasure.”
“Really?”
Sam spun about and put her hands on her hips. “Elliot, do not take that smug attitude with me. Yes, it is so very impressive and masculine that you ploughed the Demon Sorceress as part of your negotiation. Do not lord it over the rest of us.”
They laughed together. Elliot, through a haze of both shame and pride, said, “I never said I slept with her.”
“No, but she does, if you listen. If you know what she means when she talks about diplomacy. Was she skilled?”
Elliot stepped forward and pulled Sam’s hands from her hips. “She was fantastic.”
“Hm. I shall have to work hard to match up.”
“She did use a lot of magic to set the mood,” Elliot added as he was pulled along once again. “I’d have found anything sexy after she was done ensorcelling me.”
“There is not much I can do about that without her demonic blood, I’m afraid. Ah, here we are.”
Sam came to a halt in front of a familiar wooden door. This part of the Castle was just as quiet as it had been in their youth. Yule had maintained its tradition of rest since time immemorial. They were alone, their voices absorbed into the cold stone.
Sam approached him. She rested her hands on his arms. “Are you ready?”
He breathed in her breath and made it his own. “I am.”
“Then let me begin. Elliot of Layman, my former classmate, thank you for joining me on my quest to bring peace to the north. After memorising a great span of diplomatic theory for my studies, I had thought my approach to negotiation beyond reproach. You, and others also, taught me that there are many strategies I had not considered. Whatever accolades the Accord tosses at my feet for my work at Old Saint’s, I could not have achieved a thing without you.”
Elliot’s heart thudded. This after asking to remain friends? Was she trying to get him to fall in love?
“I hope we will see much more of each other as our careers develop,” Sam continued with a sweet smile. “I would like to keep track of the trouble you get up to. But for now, and with much work yet ahead of us…”
She licked her lips. “Please make love to me as you did before. I really cannot say a fond farewell to you until you do.”
“Very well,” said Elliot. “It will be my pleasure.”
He pulled himself against Sam and kissed her lips. Sam let out a lovely moan as their bodies met. Her arms encircled his shoulders and she clung to him. And when Elliot slipped his tongue into her mouth, she giggled and invited it deep inside. She sucked on it. Elliot’s hands slithered down to her waist. He felt the natural curve of her body through the thick layers of her winter clothing.
Then, a push. Sam was leaning heavily into his embrace and, recalling the dance steps from their last encounter, Elliot allowed her momentum to move him back until he was against the cupboard door. Sam’s hand left his shoulder and wriggled down to his hip. She giggled into his mouth as she clumsily sought the handle to their love nest.
The storage cupboard had changed little in the past five years, according to Elliot’s limited eyesight. The same scent of fresh paper and sealed ink washed over him as he staggered into the dark with his lover in his arms. The same wooden shelving rattled under the groping of his hand.
And then, a great clatter. Sam shrieked as a bound collection of broom handles that had been leaning by the entrance slipped around them and crashed against the stone floor. The cord binding snapped in the bundle’s impact, and the long handles rolled apart like toppled skittles.
“Shit!” Sam said between giggles. “Wh-Who decided to store those in here?”
They perfunctorily cleaned up the mess by kicking the poles to the side of the corridor. But Elliot’s amour couldn’t wait on the sidelines for long, and Sam met his next aggressive kiss with one of her own. With one more cursory look into the cupboard, they slipped inside and closed the door.
In the dark, Sam’s fingers wriggled under his coat and squeezed his shoulders. She sighed against his lips as she sampled his body with her warm fingers. And Elliot did likewise. He brushed his palms gently and carefully over the tight braids of her hair, and he tickled her swan-like neck with a rake of his fingernails. Then he slid his touch down her front. He lingered over the swell of her bust, but it was hard to acknowledge her shape under all her layers. So, patience failing him, he tugged aside her waistcoat and pulled it aside over her shoulders.
Sam hummed her appreciation. She slipped into the front of his breeches and sought the buckle. When her fingertip bounced against his erection, her hum lilted musically.
Elliot grunted as he tugged next at her pleated dress with its thick silk and long sleeves. Outfits like this tended to clasp at the back of the neck, so he delved under her hair and began to search. His fingers identified sharp prongs and loops, but nothing gave under his attention.
“M-Mm,” said Sam. “You have to… Th-There’s a trick to it…”
They broke off their kiss so Sam could turn about and smooth her hair over her shoulders. Together they sought the means of undressing her, he with adventurous fingers and she with clumsy, breathy instruction. When something gave way between her shoulder blades with an unhealthy-sounding snap, they both froze.
“Tomorrow’s problem,” said Sam, then giggled. That sounded to Elliot like a line from someone she knew.
Eventually, they made headway. Elliot peeled her dress over her shoulders and bared her shift to the cold air. This was much more romantic, and Elliot capitalised on the moment by running his lips over her bare skin. Sam sighed with satisfaction. She leant back against his chest and stroked his cheek with her hand. She rubbed her bum against his erection.
Elliot stripped himself of his breeches and stepped out of his shoes. He could hear the rustle of silk from Sam just in front of him, and when he returned his hands to her, he found her naked. With a lusty growl, he pawed at her skin and kissed her neck. He rubbed his cock against the small of her back. And when her arms rose so she could sink her fingers into his hair, he reached around her and squeezed her breasts.
“Elliot!” Sam sighed. “Oh, what a shame we didn’t think to do this sooner!”
It was time. Sam padded forward and bent at the waist. She held to the shelving with both hands and raised her rear against the stiff rod of Elliot’s cock. Elliot took his weapon in hand and slipped it down between her thighs. He wet its tip with the moisture of her pussy, making her whimper.
“Sam…” he moaned, delirious with need. “Oh, Sam…”
“Elliot,” she replied in the same distracted groan. “Fill me!”
He did. Elliot pushed forward and inserted himself into her. He groaned in resonance with the tight press of her vagina around his cock, the familiar warm and wet of a woman. Sam felt marvellous, just as she had done all those years ago. Just as he’d always known she would.
“M-Mmph!” said Sam. “A-Ah…! Elliot! Y-You’re… fucking me!”
With another demonic giggle, Sam pulled forward then slapped her body back on his erection. She gasped as she was skewered by his length.
“You’re fucking me,” she repeated. This time, her voice had teeth.
Elliot held tight to her hips and began to rut. He remembered sex with Sam being something he had to build towards. Something he had to practise before he could really get into it. Not so tonight. She may as well have been made just for him.
“O-Ooh, good!” Sam moaned as she was ploughed. “Good! Elliot!”
The shelving rattled under their rutting. Elliot slipped inside Sam over and over, rubbing himself on her insides. Pleasuring himself with the sweet grip of her body. When Elliot slid a hand up her back to her shoulder, Sam kissed his fingers.
“Good!” she cried. “Good! Good!”
Elliot grinned. After so long denied, and after getting used to her usual critique, her praise was like water in a desert. Like a fine feast after a long fast. Sam, sweet and hot. Wet and nourishing.
Yes, he really was at risk of falling in love with her.
He upped his pace. Lingering in sex was liable to undo him, so speed would protect his wandering heart. Elliot slapped his hips against her bum rapidly and pushed against the deepest parts of her. Sam’s breathing ceased under the punishment, and her cries became tight and hoarse. She revelled in his pounding.
“Y-You…! You’re…!” she managed. “A-A-Ahh!”
Elliot held her tight and ravaged her. He kissed her back and squeezed her waist. And when he felt the end approaching, he recalled the closing steps of the dance from his memory. Elliot moved his hand around her hips and tangled his fingers in her pubic hair. He sought again the secret mound she had showed him in his youth. After so much practice, locating it was easy.
And such a reward! Elliot dipped to one side a hair’s breadth ahead of Sam tossing her head back with a shout of joy. Elliot attacked her neck with his lips and rubbed her clit with vigour. He absorbed her shivers into his larger body.
“E-Elliot!” Sam shrieked. “I-I’m a-about to-…!”
“Me too,” he grunted into her ear.
Sam laughed. “Oh, good! Good boy! Let us finish together!”
Her words almost pushed him over the edge, but he held fast. “I should pull out.”
“No! No, no! Inside me!” Sam wriggled her hips on his cock and sang her plea with a croaking voice. “Finish inside me! I insist!”
Arguing was out of the question. Sam always got her way, after all. Elliot rubbed and kissed and ploughed her. He held tight to his climax with gritted teeth and hissing breaths. But the sound of her breaking voice undid him.
“Elliot!!” Sam shrieked as she came around his cock.
“O-Oh, Sam!!” he replied as he shot a load of come into her pussy.
The two of them embraced tightly in the dark as they rode one another’s bodies to completion. Elliot could feel hot moisture on his thighs, dribbling down his legs and staining the stone beneath his feet. He could smell a hint of salt in the humid air. He could feel his heart losing itself to the wonderful woman in his arms.
Sam was panting and laughing. “Oh… well done! Well done, Elliot!”
She pulled herself off his dripping cock and spun about, falling against his chest. She kissed his lips and gripped his arms.
“Very well done!” she moaned. “That was what I needed!”
“Are you sure it was alright that I finished inside?” Elliot asked.
“Elliot, I am a sensible young woman who is wise in the ways of the world,” she giggled. “I have means of assuring you do not become a father.”
“Oh. Well, good.”
He could taste her smile on his lips. “So?” she asked sweetly. “How does that compare to our previous encounter?”
“It was excellent,” he replied.
“I agree… I think!”
“Our last time certainly wasn’t bad. I did have fun then too. But I didn’t have anything to compare it to then. I reckon that counts for a measure, don’t you?”
Sam laughed into his shoulder. She hugged him close and rocked her body back and forth. She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then,
“That wasn’t funny.”
“Hm?” he asked. “What wasn’t?”
“Your joke. About our last time being your… your…”
Sam suddenly pulled back in his embrace and slapped her hands onto his cheeks. “Please tell me you weren’t a virgin.”
His silence was all the answer she needed. Sam squeezed his cheeks together and moaned into the dark.
“Oh, Elliot! I am so very sorry! Imagine that being your first encounter with sex! Oh, I could have ruined it for you!”
“It wasn’t that bad!” he protested with a chuckle. “Like I said, I had a lot of fun!”
“But I was drunk out of my mind! I must have been so greedy! Even for back then, it wasn’t one of my better performances.”
“Still, I-…!”
“Ah, shh!” Sam planted a finger on his lips. “No arguing. I see I owe you more than I had realised. See? It is well we had sex so I could fathom the depths of my debt to you.”
Elliot remained dutifully silent as Sam tapped his lip and considered their situation. He could hear her thoughts whirring about in her head. So clever…
“Alright, here is how we shall proceed,” she said. “Help me dress, then take me for a walk.”
“Where to?”
“I wish to see your childhood bedroom,” Sam said with a chuckle. “And if it is to proper standard, I shall desecrate its innocence by fucking you ruthlessly in it.”
Elliot spluttered out a laugh. When Sam slipped her dress back over her shoulders, he began fastening the cord at her back again as best he could. “And if it’s not good enough?”
“Then I have rooms here that will suffice. But one way or another, Elliot, I am going to ride you until I have repaid my debt to you.”
He sighed into her hair, then hugged her from behind. “I love being friends with a diplomat.”
“Yes indeed,” Sam said, locking her fingers with his. “I am so very good at diplomacy. Let us away. The night is long, and there is work to be done.” They stepped hand in hand into the light. This time, she held fast to him until they were home.
laymenstory
Ewan Stone 
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