Dungeons and Dalliances

6.40 – Sofia II

Sofia lay on the bed, naked from the waist up, while Natalie ran a tongue around her nipple, blue eyes locked to Sofia's own. Sofia kept her hands by her sides, fingers clenched in the sheets, and didn't make any motion to move them—frozen solid as Natalie lavished attention on her.

She tried to make sense of her thoughts. There was the easy-to-understand aspect: the way her body was responding, her breath coming in heavy pants, her heart hammering in her chest. The rising heat that wasn't just radiating from the parts Natalie was touching, but everywhere else, making her entire body sensitive, if not hypersensitive. The way her legs were clenching against one another, the growing need between her thighs. All of that was easy, if embarrassing, to acknowledge and understand. Because of course it felt good. Of course when she was touched, her body would respond.

But the intensity. Why was Natalie's touch so effective? Why did Sofia feel like she was melting, just by having her breasts toyed with? Like Natalie had said, they weren't even doing much, yet. Not compared to what was coming.

And that was what made her truly dizzy—what was coming. Where this was leading. More than that, with who it was happening. Natalie. That was what muddled her thoughts. Why could this girl draw this sort of reaction from her so? Set her on fire with a few simple touches?

And why was she being so gentle? This wasn't an arrogant opponent taking advantage of a hastily made bet, like had been the atmosphere of previous encounters. This was a lover's touch. A lover's lips wrapped around her nipple, sucking and flicking the hard nub, holding eye contact the entire time.

"I think the part that drives me crazy," Natalie murmured, lifting up, leaving a glistening nipple exposed to the cool air. "Is how perfect you are, right up until I get my hands on you. Do you know what that does to me? It's just not fair."

"How ... perfect I am?" Sofia asked, the words catching her by surprise.

Natalie smiled at her. She held Sofia's chin between her thumb and forefinger and ran her thumb over her lips. "Oh, don't play coy with me. You know how amazing you are." She leaned forward and brought her lips to Sofia's, so close that when she whispered, they brushed against each other with each word. "Or are you just fishing for compliments? Because I will give them to you, princess."

"You … will?" she breathed.

She blinked at her own response—how obvious it was.

Natalie laughed, and kissed her, chaste and quick. "Not only," she started in a low voice, "were you always the best fighter in the entire province, you were also the prettiest. You know that? The most composed and mature. And even when I was being a dick, you would always respond with such … grace, I guess. I honestly thought it was arrogance. Your petty way of getting under my skin while staying above it all. Our rivalry. But I think I had you wrong." Her lips quirked up. "Well, mostly wrong. You're definitely a little arrogant." She softened the words with another kiss. "But you deserve to be, I guess. Seeing how you're perfect, and everything."

"What are you saying?" Sofia stammered out. Where had this come from? It was one thing to be soft and gentle, but this was something else entirely. "And …" she said. "T-The prettiest? You think so?"

With horror, Sofia realized that she was fishing for compliments. And she was being so obvious about it.

"Oh, yeah," Natalie said, grinning. "I could start with your hair," she said, slipping both hands through her white locks. She moved closer and pressed her forehead against Sofia's, entwining her fingers through strands at the back of her head. "It's so silky," she said, curling and uncurling her fingers, getting a feel for her. The motion sent shivers down Sofia's spine. "And that bright white color," she whispered. "The pale blue eyes … you've always seemed, I don't know, almost too pretty to be real. When I call you princess, it's only half about the attitude, you know."

Sofia was melting. Literally. She was going to turn into a puddle at any second. How could those words do this to her? Finding a response was entirely beyond her. And even worse—even better?—Natalie kept going, lavishing the compliments on.

"And the part that makes it really unfair," she said, "is how good you are at what you do, too. Do you know how infuriating it is, losing to someone for a decade straight? Why do you get to be everything? Gorgeous, smart, determined, skilled, poised, strong—I could keep listing them all night long and not run out."

"Y-You're laying it on too thick," Sofia mumbled, forcing herself to drag her eyes away from Natalie's, turning her head to the side.

"Do I sound like I'm saying it just to tease?"

No. She didn't. Maybe teasing was partially the point—but she sounded earnest, too. That was the part that Sofia almost couldn't understand.

How was she supposed to lay here and take those sorts of compliments? It was just way too much.

And not nearly enough. She wanted more.

"I can't decide which is more fun," Natalie murmur-laughed. "Bossing you around, or telling you how amazing you are. It's incredible, I think the second actually makes you more uncomfortable." She grabbed Sofia's chin and turned her face back to her own, forcing their eyes to meet again. "Want me to keep going? I've got hours of content when it comes to you."

Yes. She did want Natalie to continue.

And no, absolutely not, she couldn't stand a single more second of the flattery. She might literally combust.

It was a very confusing mix of emotions, laying there both desperately wanting, if not needing, Natalie to keep going, yet also fighting away the urge to wiggle out from underneath her and sprint away.

In fact, Sofia decided, she definitely couldn't handle more. With Natalie opening her mouth, she was forced to take desperate action. Her hand snuck up, brushing against Natalie's skirt, then more firmly into her. She was, unsurprisingly, erect, something Sofia had been more than aware of. She palmed her bulge through her clothing and squeezed, prompting a groan from Natalie.

"Princess?"

"Are you really going to use all night to just talk?" Sofia asked.

It was a dangerous deflection, especially because it worked as effectively as she'd hoped—or feared. A hungry look appeared in Natalie's eyes. She leaned up, and Sofia kept her hand on her, squeezing the firm outline of her shaft, the only surefire way to stop the compliments: redirecting her attention elsewhere.

"No," Natalie said, a glint appearing in her eye. "No, I won't." She reached down, took hold of Sofia's pants by the waistband, and slid them down—along with her underwear. Sofia's breath hitched as the last two pieces of her clothing were tossed to the floor, leaving her fully exposed.

Swallowing, Sofia's attention turned up to the ceiling, too embarrassed to so much as twitch a finger. Natalie slid off the bed, and there was some shuffling as she removed her own clothes. Then she was crawling back onto the bed, over top of Sofia. Sofia looked down, taking in Natalie's nakedness, just in time for a hand to slip between her thighs, a finger running gently up her slit—making her suck in a breath of surprise.

"In fact, I think I'll get to business right now, if you don't mind," she said.

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