The blonde gritted her teeth, feeling her jaw muscles flex hard under her tight skin. The bow's wood was tight in her palm, drawn back as far as it could go. The tip of sharpened ebony dripped with thick red poison, and Cibell let out a short breath as she aimed her shot at the target, letting the arrow fly with a nearly silent thrum of taut string and the crackling magic of her bow.

It hit the huge Nord directly in the hollow of his throat. The man gurgled, his hands reaching up to grasp his throat as blood spilled warmly onto his trembling hands. He fell to his knees, dead within seconds.

Cibell smiled and slipped back into shadows as someone in the far side of the stables cried out in alarm as the man hit the ground. The Breton crouched down, scaling down the rocky side of the hill below with ease and grace. Solitude was a beautiful place, and perfect for quick murders and escapes. Within moments she was back to Shadowmere, who chuffed with a low sound as she climbed him wordlessly, leading the black stallion down the smooth and mossy cobblestone road as quickly as she could.

Another child had called for their mother, and she had fulfilled the contract. Sithis would be pleased with her.

A few hours along the trails left them finally at the edge of Morthal. Cibell was fully aware that the Daedra horse could take the rest of the ride to Dawnstar with ease, but she tired of sitting on the horse and it was too close to dusk for her comfort. Danger was harder to spot if you couldn't see four feet in front of your face. She bothered the stable hand, asking him to care for Shdowmere while she was gone. He was hesitant at first due to the horse's obvious physical appearance, but the Breton flashed a bag of coin into his hands and he took it, agreeing to bring the horse to his stables for the night.

Cibell grew exhausted as she dragged herself to the dreary looking Moorside Inn near the entrance of the village. She pushed open the wooden door, her knapsack hanging on her shoulder along with her bow and quiver of arrows. The Redguard woman who owned the inn took her ten Septims and showed her to her room to the side of the place. People bustled around her, tired eyed with flagons of mead ond plates of warm food in their hands. The place was packed.

Cibell was glad she'd killed that damned "bard" weeks before she'd come here to rest.

The Breton shut the wooden door of her rented room, carefully unhooking her bow and quiver from the straps wound around her chest. Sighing with the relief of the weight, she propped the weapons up onto the table nestled into the corner of the room. She slung her knapsack across the back of the chair and collapsed onto the fur covered mattress with a deep sigh. She briefly considered falling asleep with her armor and cowl on.

But she slipped of the cloak, crumpling the loose, dark fabric into a ball and tossing it onto the floor. The blonde set the work, peeling off the studded red and black gloves and boots with effort, biting down on her bottom lip in concentration. The two pieces of armor worked off easily, and she set to work with a sigh, carefully but quickly unbuckling the many straps and buttons that laced the front of the outfit. Finally she was able to unlace the entire front of the suit, letting the buttery leather slip down to her ankles as she stepped out of it, shaking out her head and sighing. Left in the smallclothes, she thanked Sithis she could simply don a simple dress tomorrow for the ride home. Cibell rolled back her shoulders, neck tense and stiff as she stretched her sore muscles.

A small hand went to her hair, pulling it out from the braids it had been in all day. It fell loose and wavy around her face, framing the roundness of her Breton cheeks and full lips. She began to systematically smooth out her blonde locks with the flat of her hand, nearly jumping out of her skin as a cold hand grazed her shoulder blades.

Her arms went to her chest and she turned on her heel to see that damned Spectral Assassin in front of her, a lucid hand outstretched towards her bare skin. The indignant and angry look on her face caused the spirit to chuckle darkly.

"My Listener?"

Cibell snarled at him, sitting down onto the bed and taking a fur into her arms, covering herself with it.

"I did not summon you, Lachance."

"I am aware. The dead of Morthal called to me through the Void."

He moved to her and she didn't budge an inch from her perch on the side of the bed. The specter was at her front, and she unwittingly spread her knees for him to settle closer to her.

"What do you want?" She hissed, her face turning red as she realized what she'd just done, inviting him between her legs so easily. The spirit caressed her bare thigh, kneading the flesh with a hand that chilled her bones. "Why don't you just leave me for the Void? I am hardly in need of your aide anymore and I am perfectly capable of handling my own contracts."

The side of Lucien's mouth pulled up into what Cibell could almost get away with calling a smile.

"We are bonded now, you and I. I serve the Sithis, but I am joined with you through the powers of the Void." He squeezed the top of her thigh hard, hand barely brushing the front of her smallclothes. His nails dug into her flesh, and her eyes turned hard, silently warning Lachance to back off.

"The Dread Father would be displeased with your easy dismissal of me, Cibell."

But his voice soothed her to the very core, and she struggled to keep from moaning as his low voice became heavy in her ears.

"I don't need you, Lucien," the Breton insisted, her grip on reality loosening dramatically as the spirit hooked a long finger into the top of her smallclothes, pulling them down slowly. Cibell's breath hitched loudly when she felt cold air hit her most private parts. The specter dipped a hand down to her folds, grinning at her when she jolted back and smacked the back of his hand hard.

"What in the Void do you think you're doing, ghost?" Her words were clipped, snapping as she clenched her jaw. Cibell was unbearably aroused, and she was bright red, knowing Lucien was fully aware of this. Long, cold fingers snatched her wrist, and she was pulled closer to the edge of the bed as her heart began to pump blood to her face. He bent to her, his cold breath on the hot shell of her ear. His fingers laced into her's, pressing them over her head playfully with little effort.

"Let me prove my worth to you." His tongue met her ear, laving along the warm flesh.

Finally, the blonde groaned, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment as the sound escaped her parted lips. His nose traced a line from jaw to chin, nuzzling his face into her neck and forcing her to arch her hips up in shock.

"F-fine."

Her voice cracked as she gave in. She could burn him with the palms of her hands, summon a Dremora to slay him, shout him into Oblivion and back if she felt so inclined. But here she was, trembling under his touch as frozen hands traced up her front, unlacing the side of her breast band and plucking it away with quick fingers. Lachance dipped his head back, letting his hood fall from his face, and twisted a hand back to let his hair down. Cibell immediately raised her hands to his head, twisting her fingers experimentally through the long, cold locks. He grinned to her, white eyes playful and waiting.

The Breton stretched forward, pressing her warm lips to the specter's. His mouth softened to her own, biting down gently on her bottom lip after a few moments. She opened to him, tilting her head to the side and parting her mouth to have Lucien's tongue testing her own. She was hyper aware of the man's open palm trailing down her stomach and pulling her smallclothes down to slide down her smooth legs and down her ankles. She made no move to stop him.

She should stop him.

He pulled away from her mouth with a groan, dragging his nails into the flesh of her hip, forcing a moan from her.

She had to.

The thought was in the back of her mind, pushing forwards through her arousal-muddled thoughts. She needed something to get him away from her, to startle him; just small enough for her to get away for a few moments to get her bearings back and then beat the Nines out of him. Anger forced it's way front the back of her throat, and before she could stop herself, she shouted.

"Krii!"

He winced, teeth baring as he stepped back a pace, gracefully stumbling.

Cibell's mouth fell open.

He stood in front of her, seething, fully formed and colored. She could no longer see through him. Smooth skinned and slightly tan, brown hair framing his face and neck, slipping into his red and blue robes. But his eyes were off; liquid ink pools with a single white shine in the middle that settled on her like a pupil, dilating.

"What have you done to me, Listener?" He wasn't angry, merely curious as he stared down at his thin hands, lifting them to his face and touching his own cheek in wonder. "It has been too long since I have felt my flesh beneath my hands. The warmth... I live. Again." A dark laugh escaped him, and Cibell pulled the fur across her nude form, completely stunned into immobility.

His hands pushed the cover away, unfazed, and went back to her trembling form, callused hands tracing the curve of her hips. She felt numb under his touch; she could only shake her head in disbelief.

Lips pressed to her neck, his hand slipped to her fold and slipped across the wetness, a smile forming against her skin. She arched her hips, hissing as a long finger pressed into her, pulling back out and them working up a rhythm. She groaned, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as she fisted the fur sheets in white-knuckled hands. He added another finger, kissing her deeply as she gave up under him, kissing him back.

"U-uh, Lucien."

There was a faint shush against her neck, and he groaned as she tightened around his digits, close to orgasm. And then he let his fingers fall, causing Cibell to cry out in frustration, biting down on her lip hard.

"Undress me."

His demanding words were bass rumbles in her chest, and she nodded, swallowing. Anything to get him to touch her again. She blushed at the thought, moving forward as he stood back and tossed his hair behind his shoulders.

Her hands went to his leather belt, unbuckling and letting it fall to the floor. She stood under the watchful gaze of Lucien, pulling the fabric up over his head with shaky fingers. She reached his face to kiss him sweetly, all sort of angry looks and violence gone from her body. He was left there in baggy blue pants and his shoes, chest heaving with sharp breaths. Dissatisfied by how slowly her hands worked, he shook off his shoes and looped fingers into his pants, pulling them down and pushing her back onto the bed.

She shot him a silent, enraged look, but he crouched down in front of her and he spread her legs, pushing her knees apart with his shoulders and forcing her to fully expose herself to him. Her heart pounded in her ears as she shivered with cold and nervousness, her mind running wild as she tried to remember how exactly she'd gotten herself into this situation.

She stifled a moan as Lucien slicked the flat of his tongue against her most private parts, small noises falling from her lips as he tasted her. Cibell's legs were already shaking on his shoulders. She knew she was too aroused simply by the languid foreplay of words he'd used in his intimate way against the shell of her ear. The prospect of being so easily caught wasn't helping her in any way except for making her more hyper-aware of what he was doing so well with his mouth.

He parted her, teasing her clitoris with the tip of his tongue. Cibell threw her head back, biting her bottom lip as her eyebrows furrowed with frustration, hips lifting. She felt warm fingers brush the inside of her thigh, and then one was at her entrance, pushing through and into her teasingly, hooking up inside her and making her rock her hips to him like a common whore.

By Sithis he was good at this; sending her to pieces with little more than his mouth and a finger like a Dibellan priest would treat a client. Men didn't do this to women; didn't please them solely to see them writhe under them. And then he lifted his face, grabbing her hips with his freehand to force her down further to him. She complied, twisting herself up to look down at him between her legs. His long brown hair was in disarray, lips wet and a grin over his face. Heavy lidded ebony eyes met her wide blue ones and the candlelight cast flickers across his bare skin.

"Moan." His voice was husky, lower, demanding, and possessive.

His hand gripped her backside and his mouth returned to its work, pressing on along with searching fingers. Cibell could feel that unfamiliar coil being wound inside her, pressing against her ribcage and downwards. And she moaned, knuckles white from trying to find some sort of purchase on the bed with her fingernails.

And then he dipped his tongue into her, tasting. She cried out in orgasm, her thighs shaking as she tried desperately to stay quiet, humiliated by the sounds she was making. It was obvious what they'd been doing to everyone in the inn, and Lachance was shamelessly holding her knees apart, still teasing her through her climax.

Coming down from that high was like being dropped into warm water on a cold night. He stood up to lean over her, wiping his mouth on the fabric in the crook of his elbow. Lucien kissed her, parting her lips to force her into tasting herself on his tongue as the velvet soft muscle worked with her own.

He ended the kiss, leaving her breathing heavily, naked under him. He smiled into her neck, nipping her and placing a rough kiss along with it.

"My turn."

She nodded wordlessly, still tongue tied and red-faced. Blonde hair clung to her cheek, and Lucien brushed it away with the flat of his thumb while she tried to steady her breathing. Finally, he climbed up onto the bed, pushing her back by her shoulders towards the pillow.

"Tell me what you want," she pleaded.

"I am a man of simple tastes, Cibell. I want to have you." His lips pressed to her's in a faux-sweet kiss, and she nodded as he dug his nails hard into the flesh of her hips. Her hands toyed with the front of his smallclothes and pulled them down. He hissed as his arousal hit cool air, and she sucked in a deep breath at his size. It had been too long. He pushed her legs further apart and sank into her with a deep moan. Cibell clawed at his back, the breath leaving her body with a sharp noise. She felt pressure like she would split in half if she even dared to move an inch. Her mouth opened as she struggled for words.

"Oh gods, Lucien."

He chuckled into her throat, pressing his lips to the hollow at the base lovingly.

"You're too tight, my Listener. How long has it been, hmm? Or have I been your only?"

"Quiet, you," she hissed, venom dripping from her voice.

He only chuckled, pressing harder into her as tears sprang to her eyes.

Cibell pulled herself forward, steadying herself by putting her hands on his shoulders, rocking her hips up and repeating the motion a few moments later with shaking legs. He took her by her hip, moving his hips up with shallow thrusts. Cibell was gasping, her breath coming in short pants as pressure began to hit her. Lucien groaned with frustration, grasping the top of her thigh and thrusting into her unforgivingly. She clenched her teeth, whimpering as she scrambled to hold to him, her nails trailing red welts as he buried his face into her blonde hair. His free hand laced into her's, pressing it against the pillow under her head.

Her hips began to move to his and he moaned appreciatively into her neck, nipping and pulling up skin to make marks she couldn't disguise. She moved away from him but was brought back with a growl and teeth to her skin once again.

"Lucien, I can't cover that."

"I did not intend for you for you to," another hard thrust, moans spilling out from the two Bretons."…Be able to."

He moved back, allowing himself to slide out of Cibell, much to her displeasure. He hooked his arms under her knees, bringing them up to hold, and reinserted himself with a wicked grin, picking up the just as he'd left off. Lucien was merciless and Cibell loved it.

She twisted under him, feeling waves of pleasure begin to pull her under the surface. He kissed her once, pressing her mouth open with his open and dipping his tongue inside. She could feel herself so close to climax that it was almost painful. After parting, she looked to him with wide eyes, and he smiled back, biting his lip hard and pushing himself in fully, ceasing his movement as she pulsed around him.

"You are mine."

She moaned, trying desperately to buck her hips. His hands held her still in place, and tears again formed in her eyes out of pure frustration. She could have ripped his throat out.

"Say it."

"Lucien, please." She was panting now, her hands at his face desperately trying to kiss him and eyes begging him to continue.

He pulled halfway out, slowly pushing back in as slowly as he could possibly manage. Cibell broke easily.

"I'm your's! I am. Gods, Lucien, please, I am your's."

He nodded, making a small sound of approval before sheathing himself fully inside her and thumbing her clit. She bucked up, moaning, and he pressed a hand over her mouth as she climaxed hard, squeezing him like a vice as he stilled inside her.

"Shh, my pet." His tone was playful as her eyes rolled from pleasure, hips twisting to meet his as he teased her with a skillful hand. Still keeping his fingers pressed to her mouth, he thrust into her a few more times as tears spilled from her eyes from both pleasure and humiliation. With a delicious, low groan, he spilled himself inside her and unclasped his hand from Cibell's mouth, kissing her deeply. Pulling out, he tossed his hair back and stretched his back, muscles rippling in front of her as she stared on appreciatively. He yawned and slid his leg out of bed, only to have his wrist grasped hard. Her jaw clenched, eyes seething; Cibell was the epitome of fury.

"Don't you dare leave me, you ass."

With a grin, he stood, taking her body into his arms and lifting her. He brushed aside the fur blankets and placed her onto the bed again, sliding in next to her and pulling the blankets over the two of them. He kissed her forehead softly, brushing the blonde hair out of her face as she clung to him.

"I don't plan to."