Carissia carefully blotted the letter, making sure that she hadn’t smudged any of the ink, when there was a knocking on her door. With a sigh, she rose and opened it, to find one of Stathis’ companions smiling back at her. From what Carissia could remember, this one was a wizard, some noble family or other, far too many names to be worth remembering. Although, now she was cleaned up, she was far more appealing then when in her earlier state, gunge-covered, tatty, dirty and dishevelled. Her black hair was now gleaming and glossy, face immaculately made up, her body sheathed in a tight black dress, panels cut at the navel and to display her chest, the fringe of a tattoo just peeking over the edge of her dress on her collarbone. She curtseyed, tugging the short skirt a little higher, just enough to reveal the lacey tops of her stockings, an enticing ribbon of bare flesh between the dress and stockings.

‘Good evening, Priestess Carissia. My apologies for calling on you so late.’ Without waiting to be invited in, she stepped past. She untied a short cape, revealing that her dress was backless but for a few threads keeping the thing from falling off, showing off the smooth curves of her tanned skin, only covered by the long, flowing river of her jet-black hair. She hung her cloak up, apparently thinking herself welcome. ‘A shame we were not able to speak earlier, but events conspired against us.’

That was certainly one way of looking at it – the revenant had been something of a problem, although Stathis had proven more than capable, at least once the rather more odious and messy slimes and oozes that had guarded it were destroyed.

‘As an apology for the hasty actions of Stathis, and any inconvenience you may have suffered due to her, I throw myself upon your mercy, and offer this as a token of apology.’

In one hand was a bottle of wine, which she rotated, making sure to show the seal on the cork. A pre-Revolution Cassini? Even Mother would have difficulty sourcing such a thing! Carissia smiled – whoever she was, she had taste, or money enough to pretend to it.

‘Thank you. Although, really, it was no trouble. I did what I could to help, but Stathis did most of the dangerous work. And your abilities were impressive, of course.’

From what she could remember, the woman had spent most of the time at the back, throwing some odd form of attack spell, to which the gelatinous bodies of the slimes had been highly resistant. Still, it had been better than the rogue, who had tried punching one, and almost been eaten whole when it sucked her in.

‘She tries, of course. But there is a certain level of franticness in her plans – I’m sure that, as someone of rank, and a fellow arcanist, you would agree. To simply charge in and swing a blade is a sign that any plan there may once have been has failed.’

Carissia blinked – it seemed that Stathis had neglected to inform her colleagues of precisely who she was, or their relationship. Well, it was very much in keeping with Stathis’ usual behaviour, if a trifle irksome. The woman took the wine back, a coil of magic twisting around the cork and pulling it open, clearly intent on staying. In the circumstances, it seemed rude to deny her, as Carissia went to fetch glasses. She allowed the woman to pour, taking the opportunity to admire her form – she must have been stitched into that dress with every curve and swell clearly visible, a wide leather belt drawing even more attention to her trim waist.

‘Have you been with Stathis for long? What is she like to work with?’

The woman shuddered, a deliberate gesture that made the dress stretch even more taut over her body. ‘Oh, she tries. But I’m sure you must have served with similar people before – always leading with the sword, very direct and tiresome. But there has been a rather unfortunate mixup – while I had reserved a room here, they have managed to mess up such a simple thing, and, well, I can scarcely be expected to rest in the common room, can I?’ She gave another carefully calculated shudder, before sipping the wine. ‘I know it’s ever so much to ask, but could I humbly request that you allow me to rest in your chambers for the night?’

Between the outfit and the wine, it was clear that something other than “rest” was on her mind. Carissia took a sip of the wine – the flavour was exquisite. Whoever she was, she wasn’t lacking in resources if she could produce such a thing so casually, and certainly looked an appealing prospect for a night’s pleasure. Stathis might object, but that was something for tomorrow.

‘Well, I’m sure we can come to some arrangement. Although the bed may be a little cramped, but I’ve little doubt we will be able to make it work. I must confess to something of a sin first though.’ The woman shifted even closer, taking a sip of wine, interest piqued. ‘In all the confusion, I’m afraid I quite missed your name.’

‘Oh, of course. It was rather sticky and unpleasant, wasn’t it? I am…’ She took a breath, clearly preparing herself for a lengthy introduction. ‘Janaxia Seyroon Falmeth Uth Tremari, of…’ Carissia cut her off with a kiss, that seeming easier than waiting however long it would take to recite dozens of titles, and skipping through whatever flirtations had been planned. She had been on the road these last few weeks, with precious few chances for entertainment.

They taste of the wine was sweet on Janaxia’s tongue as they kissed, the look of surprise rather charming. Well, it was always better to seize the initiative and strike first, and ensure the objective was secured. ‘Lady Janaxia, although my quarters are rather limited, please treat them as though they were yours.’ She reached out and ran a hand down Janaxia’s bare back, the woman shivering faintly in pleasure. ‘Although I do have some work to finish first.’ She moved one hand out of sight, making a quick gesture, a tiny puff of air extinguishing the candle. In the darkness, she felt Janaxia press against her, soft breath against her face before Carissia flicked her wand, a clear, crystalline light filling the space, Janaxia stepping slightly back, blinking in the brighter light.

Carissia sat at the desk. ‘I need to finish these first, and then I’m sure we can… talk… more. But I need nice, stable light to write by.’ She reached up with the hand holding the wand, gently running a finger across the woman’s lips, parting them with a thumb. ‘Do kindly keep still, if you would.’ She pushed the wand into Janaxia’s mouth. ‘It would be rather upsetting if it were to be dropped, as it is a holy relic.’

Janaxia gave a soft moan, the wand making it impossible to form words as she obediently clamped her teeth around it. Carissia turned back to her work, running through some standard rote phrases, amusing herself by lightly running her nails against the exposed flesh at her disposal – a harsh stroke of the small of her back made Janaxia give a guttural moan. A flick to her inner thigh made her twitch, the wand sliding an inch out of her mouth, Carissia gently pushing it back in. When she softly traced a nail around the soft band of flesh between Janaxia’s stocking and dress, there was an enjoyable change in her breathing, already starting to come in short pants.

The woman had a piercing through her navel, a short chain bearing a black gem – Carissia trickled the fingers of one hand down her belly, before lifting the gem, allowing it to drop back into place with a gentle sound, lightly tugging on it, the skin stretching. By now, the woman’s hands were clenching and unclenching, breath coming in short, hot puffs, eyelids fluttering.

With one hand, and while still focusing on her writing, she undid the belt around Janaxia’s waist, tossing the leather strap into a corner, sudden noise making Janaxia jump, breath hitching in her throat, her hips and thighs starting to twitch.

‘Do please be quiet, I wish to concentrate.’

Something that might have been an apology was mumbled through the wand, a thin trail of spittle starting to spool downwards. One of her hands moved towards her crotch, and she started to stroke herself, until Carissia tugged at her wrist, pulling the hand away.

‘Should the guest be pleasured before the hostess? I believe I have precedence, do I not?’ Carissia reached up and pushed down onto Janaxia’s shoulders until she dropped to her knees, letting Carissia take the wand from her mouth and wipe it on clean on Janaxia’s dress. Then she ran her hand up Janaxia’s back, grabbing a handful of the woman’s thick hair. With her other hand, she lifted her own skirts, making her desires obvious, before pulling Janaxia’s head between her legs.

Kisses, soft and warm, were laid upon her thighs, as Carissia murmured encouragement, letting lips brush against her before pulling the woman even closer in, feeling the woman’s tongue slide inside her and swirling around, slick and wet and warm. Carissia purred praise, tugging at Janaxia’s hair whenever her efforts slackened, shifting to the edge of her seat and using her other hand to keep her skirts from tangling in the way, chair creaking as she arched her back in pleasure. The woman was skilled, tongue curling and twisting inside her, swiftly bringing her to a climax. She kept a grip on Janaxia’s hair, but allowed her to withdraw, just slightly, her makeup now mussed.

With a tug, she signalled that Janaxia should rise, letting her crouch awkwardly in front of her, their eyes level. Janaxia’s face was slightly red from her exertions, cheeks tinged crimson, lips moist. Carissia kept her grip tight, staring into her eyes, lightly tracing her nails up and down Janaxia’s back, noting the slight twitches and twinges whenever she increased the pressure, that Janaxia was biting her lip to stifle a groan.

She leant in close, whispering into the woman’s ear. ‘I do hope you’re not going to be noisy. It would be quite unseemly for our neighbours to be disturbed.’ Then she run her hand up to the top of Janaxia’s shoulder, before twisting her hand and savagely raking her nails down her back, doing the same action back upwards.

The effect was gratifyingly immediate, Janaxia limply flailing and gasping, desperately trying to make herself stay quiet. ‘Such a tender thing you are!’ She pushed her nails into the small of Janaxia’s back, provoking another bout of soft, wordless whimpers and moans. Carissia’s fingers plucked at Janaxia’s dress, trying to find some fastener – had she put it on then sewn herself into the thing, or was it pure magic? She found a stray threat and gave it a tug, the material mercifully parting and peeling itself off Janaxia’s body, another swift tug pulling it completely off. Carissia tossed it into the corner before standing, pulling Janaxia to her feet.

‘Nothing but a choker and stockings, that certainly is a bold look.’ Carissia let go and stepped back, looking Janaxia in the eyes before sweeping her gaze over the woman’s exposed body, nodding in approval. Certainly not what one expected to find amongst the adventuring fraternity, who were normally more scarred, battered and worn, and dressed for practicality rather than sensuous pleasure. ‘Perhaps you could go back to the common room and fetch some more wine? It’s a warm night, I’m sure you wouldn’t need your cape, even.’

To her credit, she didn’t look away, but instead, Janaxia stepped forward. Her lips parted for a kiss, Carissia accepting her soft warmth, tasting her own juices on Janaxia’s lips. She twisted and gave her a push backwards onto the bed, heels knocking against the wooden frame.

‘The hostess has been pleasured, now I believe the guest deserves something, no?’

Carissia slipped Janaxia’s shoes off, before slowly tugging a stocking down, placing a hand on the woman’s bare sex – had she been wearing nothing underneath that dress? That must have made mounting the stairs rather risky, given their steepness and position opposite the rowdy common room. She slid a finger into Janaxia, feeling the woman clench and tighten around her, hands clutching at the bedsheets as she moaned. ‘Do have some control!’ One of the stockings was tugged off and went around the bedframe, then Janaxia’s wrists, limiting her wriggling somewhat, as Carissia slipped another finger into her, easing them back and forth as Janaxia writhed and gasped in pleasure, eyes rolling around. Was she pretending, or was she really so easy to please? She was making soft begging sounds as Carissia teasingly stroked her, before withdrawing her fingers. Janaxia’s hips came up, grinding empty air, seeking satisfaction.

Carissia disrobed – something her outfit wasn’t designed for, at least not with any sort of ease or elegance, necessitating an irritating and distasteful pause as she removed her habit. Janaxia’s wrists had slid out of their bindings, but, out of either obedience or propriety, she didn’t touch herself, until Carissia finally managed to remove her clothing (stupid vestments, clearly not designed by someone with an active love life!), sliding into bed, pressing flesh to flesh.

Quite what such a woman was doing as an adventurer, and with Stathis, no less, was a mystery, but Carissia wasn’t one to let such an opportunity pass her by, as they kissed, hands moving over each other’s bodies. She dug her nails into Janaxia’s back, watching with amusement as Janaxia’s head lolled, eyes rolling back in her head, tongue wagging senselessly as Carissia scratched her up and down, marking her flesh.

‘You really are a sweet, tender thing, aren’t you? Roll over.’ Janaxia obediently rolled over onto her stomach, Carissia straddling her and pinning her in place, making a comfortable seat for herself, her own thighs around the woman’s slender waist as she brushed hair out of the way. Then she started to massage her, hands moving up and down Janaxia’s spine, fingers digging into pressure points, forcing muscles into relaxation. From the way Janaxia was twitching and groaning beneath her, she was clearly enjoying it, even starting to buck her hips slightly beneath Carissia’s weight, grinding herself against the bedding.

It didn’t take long to identify her most sensitive points, Carissia alternating between massage, scratching with nails, leaning down to gently nibble soft flesh, or tossing her head, letting her hair trail over the sensitive, scratched flesh, seeing which made Janaxia bury her face into the pillow the hardest, trying to stifle increasingly intense moans. As a hand explored Janaxia’s neck, she brushed against the fabric of her choker. She flicked the clasp on it, tossing the ribbon onto the bedside table before testing the newly-exposed skin for vulnerability, a bite drawing forth a most satisfying moan. Janaxia’s writhing beneath her started to get more intense as Carissia raked her back again, this time leaving long scratch-marks down her back.

As the moans got louder and louder, Carissia knelt low, shaking her head to make her hair dance across Janaxia’s tender flesh. ‘Your hostess demands attention once again.’ She lifted herself up, just enough to let Janaxia roll over, eyes meeting hers as Carissia held herself above her face. Janaxia didn’t need prompting, lifting her head and starting to kiss Carissia’s thighs and crotch once more. Carissia settled herself securely, supporting herself on the bedframe as Janaxia’s tongue slid into her, stroking her most sensitive parts. She glanced over her shoulder – Janaxia’s hands were busy, stroking herself. Well, she had worked hard, so deserved at least that much, as long as she didn’t stop before her tongue had finished Carissia off. Something she was highly skilled at, far better than the arcane prowess she had shown in combat.

With a satisfied groan of her own, Carissia fell to one side, sated, watching as Janaxia finished herself off, sealing the woman’s moans with a kiss. She pulled the blanket over them both, having to hug Janaxia close otherwise risk one of them falling of the bed. The woman twisted around, nesting herself close to Carissia, while Carissia tried to avoid inhaling hair. She slid her arms around Janaxia’s body, gently kissing between her shoulder blades, a gasping sigh coming from Janaxia. Such a delicious vulnerability! She ran her hand along Janaxia’s body, feeling the firmness of her breasts, then along the curves of her waist, then down between her legs, feeling the moist warmth. Although she was formally the hostess, Janaxia had bought that wine, and some generosity now might pay dividends later.

She nibbled the nape of Janaxia’s neck as she slid her fingers in again, taking the moans as encouragement, fingers marking a slow but steady rhythm, a gentle build to a final release, as she extinguished her spell, the room falling into darkness. The scent, the sense, the taste, of Janaxia’s closeness, intensified in the darkness, as her soft moans gave way to a satisfied climax. The two of them, alone in the gentle darkness, held each other closely, swiftly succumbing to sleep.