Disclaimers: Mine, mine, all mine.

Sex: But of course! J  I’d say pretty much NC-17 on this puppy, too, so don’t read at work.

Note: I decided to do a short story that was a wee take on one of my favorite movies, The Princess Bride.  You will see some similarities, and that is on purpose.  Even so, the overall story is my own.  Enjoy!

If you’d like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com

As You Wish


Kim Pritekel

(NOTE: Just an FYI: for those of you who don’t follow the Academy of Bard’s Halloween Invitational, I submitted a novel called After Shadow.  Go check it out!)


Wynton leaned back against the trunk of the tree, his jaw muscles clenching and un-clenching as he tried to get his breathing and fear under control.  His men were being beaten down by the King’s superior forces and numbers.  There was no way Robert Wynton was going down because of some slut who chose to leave with a vicious killer. 

His plan was to get to his horse – if it hadn’t been killed – and get the hell out of the forest.  He thought he was safe when he rounded a thicket of trees, only to see the pommel of a sword just before it slammed into his forehead. 

Stumbling backwards, he shook his head to clear it, only to see a man standing before him dressed completely in black, though his shirt had been sliced on the side, the material blood-soaked to the skin.  The mask her wore hid the upper part of his face and eyes.  Angry eyes. 

Wynton grunted again when he was hit with the pommel once more, nearly falling to the ground.  He held onto a tree in order to stop his fall, as he knew if he touched the ground that would be it.  He drew his blade, prepared to do battle for his life.  He had the feeling that the man he was about to face was the Mercenary. 

Conley was losing her self-control quickly.  She had been shocked to see the bastard hiding behind the tree.  She had made Rachel and Tamara stay out of sight.  It was time she and her old master and condemner to meet face to face.  Vengeance was hers. 

“Hello, Lord Wynton,” she said, her voice a low growl.  The nobleman looked at her.  He knew the voice, but couldn’t place it.  “Don’t you recognize me?” she asked, making a show of slowly pulling out both of her blades.  “Maybe this will help.” 

Wynton watched as the Mercenary pulled off his mask, then was struck dumb to see his old servant, and the bastard he’d pinned Allison’s pregnancy on.  The man he had condemned, and who had been killed during an escape.  “You’re dead!” he said stupidly, confused. 

Conley grinned, shaking her head as she tossed the mask aside.  “Apparently not.  Guess the prison guards lied.” 

Angry and humiliated, Wynton attacked with a loud growl.  Conley met his every blow, hers calm and calculated, Wynton’s brash and wild. 

“Tsk, tsk, Wynton,” Conley grinned, enjoying toying with her prey.  “Shant allow emotion to interfere with honor.”

“You will die today, Conley,” Wynton said, charging, only to have Conley sidestep his thrust.  Wynton stopped himself with his hands on the trunk of a tree.  He whirled around, not wanting to leave his back exposed to his opponent. 

Conley was waiting for him, not wanting to kill Wynton from behind like a coward.  Besides, she wanted to play a little more with him first.  She stood waiting, one of her blades tucked against her shoulder, tapping in feigned impatience.  This, of course just served to make Robert more angry.

Rachel peeked around the corner of the thicket of trees she and Tamara were hiding in.  She wanted to watch, but didn’t want to watch.  She was ready to run in there and protect Conley if she was needed.  In fact, she had handed Emily to her lady-in-waiting, just so she could be ready.  As she looked at Wynton, she felt a mixture of fear and hatred, both equally strong.  She turned to Tamara when she felt a hand on her shoulder. 

“T’will be alright, M’lady,” the older woman whispered encouragingly. 

Rachel smiled in appreciation of her words, but then turned her attention back to Conley and Robert Wynton. 

Wynton tried to rein in his anger, knowing that it would make him sloppy and get him killed if he weren’t careful.  He walked over to the man in black and engaged him once more.  “I should have known it was you who stole Rachel from me,” he said – parry, parry, thrust, miss, thrust.  The men circled one another, each waiting for the other to make another move.  “You always wanted my wife.”

Conley grinned, big and filled with hatred.  “Good thing I had her last night.” 

Wynton felt his blood boil at those words.  He had known that Rachel was in love with the rogue, even back then.  Not that he had ever loved Rachel, but it would be over his dead body before he allowed another to have her  Especially this bastard.

“You will die!” he cried, charging Conley once more, the two locked in fierce battle.  Their swords clashed again and again, sweat popping up on each of their brows.  It was more than pride that was at stake. 


The King took a moment to breathe.  The battle had been fierce and heated.  Wynton’s army had lost more than half of it’s men already, another third were injured too badly to continue their fight.  It was truly a one-sided victory, as the King’s army had lost at most twenty men. 

He wiped his forearm across his brow, blood and sweat smearing onto his bracer.  He scanned the battlefield once more for Wynton.  Spotting his general, he walked over to him and told him he was on the hunt for the cowardice nobleman.  The general nodded in agreement, turning back to the man he was trying to patch up. 

The King walked through the carnage, careful to avoid stepping on any bodies or injured.  He stopped, listening.  In the distance he heard the clang of blades and grunting of fighting men.  Instinctively he knew it was the man he sought. 


Conley was pushing Wynton back, nearly knocking his back against the trunk of a tree.  Desperate to escape, Wynton took a huge chance and dove out of the way of Conley’s sweeping blade, giving a hard kick at Conley’s ankle as he did. 

Conley cried out as the ankle buckled and he fell to one knee.  She didn’t notice that Wynton had popped back up onto his feet, and was swinging his blade high over head, preparing for the death blow.

“Conley!” Rachel cried in warning.

On pure instinct, Conley rolled away, the blade whooshing mere inches over her fallen head.  She rolled out of the way as Wynton went after her, his sword coming down in a chipping action.  Frustration was getting the best of Wynton.  He wanted Conley dead!

“You will die this day, bastard!” Wynton yelled, teeth bared.  As Conley was trying to get out of the way Robert lunged, managing to kick her viciously in the head and knocking her to her back. 

Conley was dazed, her vision coming in black splotches.  She was about to get up when she felt white hot pain sear through her body, and a shriek in the distance.  She couldn’t breathe as she was pinned to the spot. 

Rachel watched in horror as Robert Wynton ran his blade through Conley’s body.  She hadn’t even heard herself as she’d screamed.  Without thought, without care she ran out at Wynton, thrusting her own blade through his stomach as he turned toward her upon hearing her scream.  They were no more than a hand-length apart as she held him on her blade.  He looked down at her, stunned and mortally wounded. 

“You will never hurt her again,” she hissed, thrusting the blade up with all her strength. 

Wynton gasped, blood spilling out of his mouth.  He fell to the ground, nearly taking Rachel with him, as his dead weight was much more than she could hold up with a sword blade.  She let go, the sword thrust obscenely out of his chest. 

The King ran when he’d heard the shriek.  As he rounded the bend he saw Wynton lying dead on the ground and then he saw his daughter, leaning over a fallen man in black. 

“Rachel!” he cried, running over to her.

Rachel didn’t even hear the voice of her father, so focused was she on Conley.  She cupped her face in pale hands, looking into the pale blue eyes.  “Don’t you leave me!” she begged, shaking the fallen woman.  “Don’t you dare!” 

Conley couldn’t speak, could barely hear Rachel’s pleads for her to live.  She saw the sky above and somehow felt she were floating up into it.  A woman appeared before her, a kind smile in her eyes.  Standing next to the beautiful woman – whom Conley somehow knew was her mother – was her father.  They were waiting for her. 

“No!” Rachel screamed, her cries echoing throughout the forest. 


A single candle flickered and danced, painting the darkened room with eerie shadows.  The old physician sat in the corner by the candle, mixing potions and remedies by it’s small, golden flame.  He glanced over at the lone figure lying on the physician’s cot.  He studied the figure for a moment, making sure the chest was moving in even, rhythmic motion, then he returned his attention back to his medicines.  He’d be leaving the quarters for the night as soon as he finished with the last of the herbal remedies.  He felt confident his patient would make it through the night.  Besides, he knew the patient wouldn’t be alone, though the visitor had no idea she’d been seen there every single night for the past week. 

Knowing she’d be arriving soon, the physician finished up his work for the night, then rose with a groan of age.  He carried the dancing candle over to the table next to the patient’s cot and left it there to light the way of the princess.  With a soft smile, he left the quarters. 

Like clockwork, the door to the physician’s quarters was pushed open, a figure slipping inside, quickly closing the door behind her.  She made her way to the bed where the lone figure slept, and took her place at the bedside. 

Rachel took Conley’s hand in her own.  She looked at the long fingers, running her fingers over the calluses on the palms and fingers.  So rough, yet so incredibly gentle.  Her gaze moved to the warrior’s face, taking in the arched brows and closed lids.  Conley’s lips were relaxed and slightly opened. 

The princess sighed, wishing for nothing more than for Conley to open those blue eyes.  Then, as if in some answer to her prayer, they did. 

Conley blinked several times, trying to bring her world into focus.  She had no idea where she was, but knew someone was with her.  Was it her mother?  Her father?  Were they still with her?  Slowly she turned her head, trying to bring the person into focus.  It took a moment but she realized it was, “Rachel.”

Rachel nearly cried at the whispered word.  She nodded, caressing Conley’s hand between her own.  “Yes, love.  It’s me.” 

Conley studied her for a moment, confused.  The last thing she remembered was fighting Wynton, and then all went black.  “Where am I?” she whispered. 

“At my father’s castle,” Rachel said, bringing up a hand and gently brushing away Conley’s dark hair.  “You’ve been here for a week.  I’ve been frightened beyond measure.”


“You were stabbed, Conley.  During your fight with Wynton.” 

Conley let Rachel’s words roll around in her brain for a moment, trying to remember.  She could remember nothing.    She shook her head.  “I remember not.”

“You fought him,” Rachel explained, resting her hand on Conley’s cheek, caressing the soft skin with her thumb.  “It was awful.”  She felt the emotion rise in her, but she fought it, not wanting to upset Conley.  “But,” she said, forcing a smile.  “You are safe now.  Under my father’s protection and care.” 

Conley studied Rachel for a moment, sadness filling her heart.  “Rachel,” she said softly, “your father will have me executed as soon as he knows who I am.”  She reached out a hand, wanting to touch Rachel, if not one last time.  She was so weak, but used every bit of energy to touch her. 

Rachel saw what Conley was trying to do and grabbed Conley’s hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing the callused palm before taking the hand in both of hers.  She shook her head.  “He knows.  He saw your face that day.” 

Conley wasn’t sure what to think of the news.  “What of Wynton?” she asked instead. 

Rachel looked at their joined hands.  “Dead,” she said simply. 

“I do not remember killing him.” 

Rachel met Conley’s gaze with her own sad one.  “You didn’t.”

“Then who?” 

“I did.  And I’ve not regretted it for a moment.  He killed my sister, and tried to kill you.” 

“And you.”

“And me,” Rachel agreed.  She looked at Conley, unable to hide her love and relief.  “You have worried me so, Conley.  The physician wasn’t sure if you would survive or not.  You’ve been asleep off and on for a week.” 

Conley sighed, glad to be alive and awake, and looking at Rachel.  “What happened?  And why is it that whenever I’m at your father’s castle I end up in the physician’s quarters?”

Rachel smiled, almost feeling giddy at being able to sit here and talk to her love.  She shook her head.  “Guess you seem to find trouble wherever you go.”

Conley smiled.  “Aye.” 

Rachel could see that Conley was getting tired and losing strength.  She leaned over and placed a kiss upon her lips.  “Rest now, my love,” she whispered against them.  “You need your strength.”

Conley nodded.  “As you wish.”

They both smiled and then Conley slipped off into blissful sleep, Rachel never leaving her side. 


It took days for Conley to finally get back on her feet, but eventually she was able to get up and around.  She wasn’t sure what the future held for her, and wasn’t sure if she should find a horse and escape while she could.  Rachel had been with her every step of the way, for which Conley was eternally grateful, but now that she was well enough to leave, what would happen? 

She was nervous, summoned before the King.  He was sitting on his throne, impressive in the large, beautiful room, his crown in place and advisors surrounding them. 

Conley’s clothing had been cleaned and repaired, so she stood before the King in black, her boots freshly polished and weapons at her side.  The only thing missing was her mask, without which she felt vulnerable and naked.  She had worn it for so long, it had become part of her identity, as much as her name. 

Falling to one knee, Conley bowed her head in absolute respect to a man for whom she had come to greatly respect and admire, knowing to what lengths he’d take for his daughter and people.  She did not speak, unsure what to say, or what she could say. 

“You are a mystery to me, Conley,” the King said at length.  He studied the figure before him.  “I have spoken with my daughter, trying to unravel this tangle of half-truths and outright lies.”

Conley felt her heart fall, figuring Rachel must have told the King of Conley’s true identity and persuasion.  She sighed heavily inside, but outwardly was like stone. 

“Look at me, Conley,” the King said, not unkindly. 

Conley raised her head, looking the intimidating man in the eye.  If this was her last stand then she’d make it bravely. 

“I look at you and I see the eyes of the quiet servant – a stable boy – who once saved my daughter from untold harm.  Yet, when I look at your face, I see a proud, brave warrior – and very cunning man, I must say – who not only escaped a fate for which I had called upon your head, nameingly a date with the axe man, but managed to escape and then create an entirely new identity for yourself.  An identity for which I, unknowingly came to request your assistance.”  The King stroked his beard for a moment, as though considering his next words.  “What have you to say for yourself?”

Conley cleared her throat, her voice strong when she finally spoke.  “I have to say that I simply did what I had to to survive, Your Majesty.  As I’ve done all my life.  Had I been guilty of the crime, I would have taken my punishment.  Since I was not guilty, and none would listen, instead taking the word of a man with no honor, I knew I had to save myself.  You were good to me while I was here, Your Majesty, and I am sorry for my deceit to you and your people.  I left this realm, intending never to return.”

The King smiled.  “Until I managed to drag you back.”

Conley also smiled.  “Kicking and screaming, Your Majesty.” 

They both shared a moment of humor before the King once again sobered.  “You have proven yourself most brave, Conley.  I know not if I’ve seen such bravery, not only on the battlefield, but also in life.  I am highly impressed and intrigued by you.”  He studied the man before him for a moment.  “What of life do you wish for, sir?” 

Conley felt her heart flutter at the question and visions which stormed her mind.  “To be happy, Your Majesty.  To protect what is mine, and have the right to do so.” 

The King nodded in approval.  “I see.  It has come to my attention that my daughter loves you very deeply.  And,” he grinned, “I suspect this love is not one-sided.” 

Conley wasn’t sure what to say.  Was this a trap?  She decided to stay prudently silent. 

“You need not say anything, sir, as I see it in your eyes.  Understand that when I married her to Lord Wynton, I truly thought I was doing the right thing for my people.  Marriage, as you know Conley, is a matter of business.  However,” he said, raising a finger of silence, “I was one of the few who were fortunate enough to find love in my wife, Emily.  She was taken from our marriage far too young and soon, but I know what it is to love.”

One of the King’s advisers hurried over to the throne upon a flick of the King’s wrist.  The squirrelly little man handed the King a parchment then scurried off.  “This, young lad is a proclamation returning your honor as a brave and noble knight in this kingdom.”

Conley wasn’t sure what to say, as she felt there was more to this proclamation than had been thus far said.  She waited, her heart beginning to pound. 

“You have proven yourself most brave and loyal.  These are all the qualities I’d welcome in not only one of my personal men, but also in a husband for my daughter.  She is all that I have left, Conley, and I can’t bare to lose her again to a bad decision.”  The King stood and walked over to where Conley still kneeled.  “Stand.” 

Conley stood, looking the King in the eye. 

“Do you accept, Conley?” the King asked, his voice soft and that of a friend, rather than a powerful ruler. 

Conley grinned.  “With all my heart.” 


Conley looked around her new rooms, trying to understand how she’d gone from living in the servant quarters to a bit larger room of a soldier to a prison cell to the quarters of royalty.  The bed chamber was massive, a stone fireplace taking up most of one entire wall.  The fire crackled happily, warming the large space. 

She heard a knock at the double doors to the outer chamber, which was answered by Robin, the man servant she had been given.  Soft murmuring led to a knock at the bedchamber door.  Expecting to see Robin, Conley was surprised – and utterly delighted – to see instead Rachel.  The princess closed the door, back leaning against it and pinning Conley to the spot with the intensity in her eyes. 

Conley couldn’t move, could barely think as they shared the glance.  Finally Rachel broke the spell, pushing off the doors and walking over to Conley.  The loose robes she wore fluttered around her, giving her an ethereal presence.  Her hair was down and free around her breasts and back.  She was more stunning than anything Conley had ever seen. 

“Hello, my love,” Rachel said softly, stopping only once she’d reached the warrior.  She rested her hands on Conley’s stomach, fingertips feeling the soft material of the fine garments she’d been given.  “The kingdom becomes you,” she smiled, drawing closer. 

Conley’s breath was taken by the pure beauty before her.  Words escaped her as she looked into Rachel’s eyes.  The princess smiled, seeming to understand the power she had over Conley. 

“So beautiful,” Rachel said, bringing a hand up to cup Conley’s cheek.  “Did you ever think your life would take this turn?” she asked softly. 

Conley shook her head, finally able to release herself from the fog she’d succumb to. “No, M’lady,” she said softly.  “I have but one worry.”

“What is that?” Rachel asked, closing the small distance between their bodies, making it even more difficult for Conley to think and speak. 

“What if I’m found out?” Conley whispered.  “All will be lost.” 

Rachel shook her head.  “It will never happen, Conley,” Rachel promised.  “All who know are dead, and anyone else – myself – will take the secret to my grave.”  She leaned up and placed a soft kiss on Conley’s lips.  “I love you, Conley.  To me, in my heart, you are my husband.  What defines a man?  Bravery?  Size?  Fortitude?  You have all these things in abundance, my love.”  She pressed her hips into Conley’s suggestively, making them both smile.  “I am a lucky woman.  You have all these wonderful qualities of a man, yet you have such gentleness in you.  Such heart and warmth.  Love.  These are the things that make a woman.  You are a wonderful mix of both.”

“Are you sure, Rachel?” Conley asked, doubt pushing away any thoughts of bliss. 

“With all my heart.  I love you.  All of you.”  Once again she leaned up, giving her love a kiss, though this kiss was deep, lingering.  “Let me prove it to you,” she whispered against Conley’s lips. 

Conley watched as Rachel broke the kiss and took a half-step back from her.  With gentle hands, Rachel began to undress Conley, removing the wrapping around her breasts with loving care and kindness, then kneeling to help remove boots and breeches.  Conley felt so vulnerable as the leather straps were undone, the device of her deception removed from her person. 

Once she was completely finished, Rachel stood back and looked at the goddess that stood before her.  Her gaze drifted along the creamy skin of Conley’s breasts, then her gaze wandered lower, taking in all the scars that marked the warrior’s body, including the healing wound of her latest fight with Wynton.  She gently ran a finger along the angry red line that marked the wound she’d taken, that had nearly taken Conley from her. 

Conley could hardly breathe as Rachel examined her body.  She had never been so naked in front of someone before, completely unmasked.  She wasn’t sure what to feel or think, other than grateful. 

Rachel’s fingers ran across the smooth skin, so different from a man’s.  Smooth and pale from lack of exposure to the sun.  Her gaze then drifted lower, to the dark thatch of hair between Conley’s legs, which no longer supported a protruding object.  She was curious and intrigued, and filled with deep desire.  Without a word she disrobed, her gown falling to the floor in a sea of satin and silks.  Both naked, Rachel met Conley’s gaze once more. 

Conley could only hold the look for a moment, as she was so hungry to take in all that stood before her..  Rachel was magnificent.  Her body had fully healed from it’s time of being poisoned and denied the basic human needs.  Her skin was pale and soft, her breasts rosy-tipped, the skin straining against itself as a flush of desire began to rise along the flesh. 

Rachel moved over to the thick rug that covered the stone floor in front of the massive fireplace.  She lay herself down, waiting for Conley to join her.  It didn’t take long.  The warrior lay on her side next to Rachel, feeling like a new lover, unsure and vulnerable. 

“I know not how to love you as a woman,” she said softly. 

Rachel smiled, reaching for Conley.  “Nor do I.  But,” she grinned, pulling Conley on top of her.  “Me thinks we can figure it out.” 

Their first kiss in complete honesty was wonderful.  Conley’s mind was whirling, trying to take in all the amazing sensations.  As her mouth and tongue met Rachel’s, her body was exploding with sensation and gooseflesh.  She had to admit that it felt wonderful to lie with Rachel as her true self: nothing false, nothing hidden.  She could feel her desire growing, a need to share this with Rachel greater than anything she’d ever known. 

As they kissed, Rachel ran her hands all along the naked flesh of Conley’s back, running her nails down along her spine, and down along the naked flesh of her behind.  No straps now to interrupt the flow of softness.  The pass over rounded flesh caused Conley to press into Rachel, making the princess sigh in pleasure.  She wanted to know what it felt like to have their sex touching.  She spread her legs, allowing room for Conley to fit between her thighs. 

Conley moaned loud and deep as she and Rachel were pressed intimately together.  She could feel Rachel’s wetness, which undoubtedly matched her own. 

“You feel wonderful,” Rachel said, closing her eyes for a moment as she luxuriated in the feel. 

Conley’s pleasure with a woman had always been second-hand, as it had come through the phallus, and not directly from her own sex.  She felt overwhelmed as sensations passed through her.  Was it always like this, or was it just Rachel?  She wanted to know every part of the beautiful woman beneath her. 

Rachel kept her eyes closed as Conley began to kiss and explore her neck.  She brought her hands up to entwine in thick, black hair, giving Conley access to all that she wished. 

Conley didn’t miss a single inch of flesh as she moved her way down to Rachel’s breasts.  She was careful, as Rachel was still breast feeding Emily.  She gently massaged, flicking her tongue over erect nipples.  Rachel cried out softly, arching her back to offer herself fully; a sacrifice of flesh and desire. 

Rachel’s skin was perfection, unmarred with the scars and imperfections that littered Conley’s body, a body that had labored and fought to survive.  Rachel had been protected, leaving pale bliss for Conley’s hands and mouth.  She ran her tongue along the center line of Rachel’s body from between her breasts down to her belly button.  As she neared the golden thatch of hair, she could smell Rachel’s need and desire for her.  She wanted that desire.  Wanted to claim it as her own. 

Rachel had no idea what Conley was doing, her eyes opening to look down to see Conley’s dark head moving toward her most private place.  Her head fell back on the rug as a tongue sliced through her wetness.  She no longer cared what Conley was doing; it felt unlike anything she could imagine, and short-circuited any and all thought. 

Conley had no idea what she was doing, or if it was even right, but it didn’t matter.  It felt right to her, and as Rachel’s hips began to slowly move with the movement of her mouth, she assumed the princess liked it.  She found herself engulfed in the heat that made up Rachel’s very core, and it was a heat she wished she could curl up in and stay forever.  It was the center of Rachel’s being, and apparently the center of her pleasure. 

Bringing a hand up, she eased her fingers inside Rachel’s depths, making the blonde cry out in pleasure as she was filled.  Conley marveled at the feel of what had always surrounded her phallus, though an extension of herself, not a fully participating member in the tactile bliss that was Rachel’s sex.  She ran her tongue up and down along Rachel’s seam, gathering fluids as she went, more abundance with every pass.  Finally she focused her attentions to the swollen part of her sex with her tongue, as her fingers were fully engaged in Rachel’s entrance. 

Rachel was lost in a haze of sensual bliss as white hot pleasure spread through her, a pleasure that was almost too intense to bear.  She gasped as Conley found a spot that sent tendrils of intensity up her body.  Her hand slammed down on Conley’s head, holding her to that spot, breathlessly begging her to stay. 

Conley did as asked, continuing to suck the nub into her mouth and running her tongue over it in quick passes, meanwhile her hand increasing it’s rhythm.  After a moment more of this, Rachel’s legs slammed shut, a throaty cry filling the space as her body spasmed, her back arching off the rug as her body was overtaken by the experience. 

Conley slowly removed herself from Rachel’s depths, moving her way back up her body, kissing and caressing to try and calm her.  “’Tis alright, love,” she whispered, raining kisses all along Rachel’s face and shoulders.  “I love you.” 

It took long moments for Rachel to come back to the present, surprised to feel the chill of tears on her cheeks.  The experience had been so intense, so utterly intense that it had nearly knocked her from one world and into the next.  She wrapped her arms around Conley, holding her close.  She’d never felt so close to another human being in all her life.  Not even in the many other times of intimate connection she’d shared with the warrior in one way or another, had she felt such. 

Conley held on, sensing Rachel desperately needed to feel her close.  She wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but figured it wasn’t a bad thing.  After a moment she pulled back, brushing Rachel’s hair back away from her face as she studied her. 

“Are you alight?” she asked softly. 

Rachel nodded, feeling foolish for her strong reaction.  “I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.”  Conley’s brows drew.  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Oh, no.”  Rachel drew Conley down for a long, deeply passionate kiss.  “Not even close,” she whispered into the kiss, pushing Conley to her back and following until she lay atop the surprised warrior.  “Now ‘tis my turn.” 

Conley’s eyes slipped closed as warm lips and tongue tasted her flesh.  No one had ever touched her in such a way.  She gasped as her left breast was tentatively touched with inquisitive fingers.  Her nipples both hardened to attention, aching for touch.  Rachel quickly responded, swiping her tongue over the left one.  A long, soft sigh escaped Conley’s lips as sensation shot through her chest, heading south. 

Rachel was intrigued by the response of Conley’s body to her touch.  She was surprised as the reactions made her own body respond in kind.  She took as much of Conley’s breast into her mouth as she could, suckling on the soft flesh and feeling the nipple tickle the roof of her mouth.  As her mouth continued with both of Conley’s breasts, her hand began to wander.  She ran her fingers over the hills and valleys that made Conley the woman she was. 

Conley gasped as fingers – gaining confidence with every response from her – found the wet heat between her legs.  Instinctually she spread her thighs, allowing Rachel all the access she desired.  Rachel’s fingers ran scorching paths along the soft skin of an inner thigh, before trailing along thick hair, and petting for a moment.  Conley’s hips were moving slowly, silently inviting Rachel to explore further. 

Rachel moved her mouth up to Conley’s, seducing her further with mouth, tongue and teeth.  Her fingers slipped into the slick folds that made Conley a woman, dipping into the lave-like heat she found there.  She moaned into the kiss, loving the feel of the heated, swollen flesh.  She wasn’t entirely sure what to do, as she’d never even explored her own sexuality, but wanted so desperately to please her love.  She tried to remember back to what had been done to her.

Conley was almost purring into the kiss as Rachel’s fingers stroked her, eliciting the most wonderful sensations and feelings throughout her entire body.  After awhile she had to break from the kiss, her concentration needed on the pleasure that was spreading through her body like wildfire.  Her breathing had heightened, her body moving in tandem with Rachel’s hand.  Without warning, her body exploded in pleasure, her heart seeming to stop in her chest for that one moment of pure physical bliss.  Rachel stayed with her, calming Conley as she’d been calmed, with kisses to the face and neck. 

“I have got you,” Rachel whispered, continuing her finger’s movements until Conley breathlessly asked her to stop.  She pulled the warrior against her, their bodies pressed together as Conley continued to convulse, her sex pulsing in time with her racing heart. 

After a long moment they settled in, Rachel’s body curled up into Conley’s, her head resting on a strong shoulder.  “I love you, Conley,” she whispered, placing a soft kiss where the neck met the shoulder.  “I cannot wait to become your wife.” 

Conley smiled, holding the princess closer.  Never had she felt so loved and fully accepted.  No deceit, no falsity.  Nothing but truth and honor.  “And I you.  With all my heart.” 

Rachel sighed, content.  “May I spend the night here with you?” she asked, her voice growing tired. 

“As you wish,” Conley whispered, her eyes slipping closed. 


Return to the Academy