Belariath

Sticks panted, shivering. She felt her mind under seige from panic and, yes, even arousal. She let that part have her body while she walled off a bit of her mind to think clearly. She needed to survive, even if that meant being pounded in the tavern like some loose wench. On the other hand, there was no guarantee, so she wracked her brain for leverage. None came to mind.

Her eyes rolled open, inevitably attracted to the teasing displays of skin. She had a brief vision of that chest pushing against hers, those thighs holding hers apart while that cock... A low groan of frustration mingled with fear escaped her throat and she bit her lip hard enough for a small drop of blood to run down her tear-streaked cheek.

He didn't bother taking the robe off completely, not yet, but he did follow her eyes as they roved over his chest, stomach, thighs, and then lingered on the mass of his shaft, biting her lip and drawing that bit of blood. Part of him began to entertain the possibility, despite the shameless flirt she had played, that the girl was more innocent than she'd acted. If such was the case he could see the apprehension given the size differences in their bodies, though he'd yet to take a good long look at the treasure between her thighs.

Step forward taken, firm hand lowering to knead into the swell of her right breast, thumb tracing around the nipple not touching just yet, before and would twist and entire palm would drag aross the bud as he'd smile at her, "That's better girl...so much better. No need to fight anymore...now can I trust you to get me hard like a good girl, or will you need to be punished.." He'd say as his other hand pressed to her stomach. Sliding down as his frame hung over hers, close, but not against, needing that room so two fingers could slip between her thighs and tease the petite slit there.