I could feel her on my heels, my lungs ablaze with the effort of breathing. I was running as fast as I could and still she stayed with me, always just a step behind, waiting for me to tire so that she could take over. I had never run this far before.
The heat didn't help, lost in this verdant hell of vines and fanning palm leaves. It was like running through an oven. Sweat poured down my face and stung my eyes, blurring everything into a red haze.
"Come back, coward!" Nazre roared, sunbaked and glistening. The Dark Elf woman was a powerhouse of tawny flesh, supple and sculpted. Bands of onyx, tribal markings coiled about her biceps and the peak of her thighs. These jungles were the home of her ancestors. While I stumbled about, scrambling for some momentary footing, my pursuer moved in tandem with the snaking roots. Nazre ran easily despite her size, flaxen hair streaming behind her like a cape. "I've won it by right!"
'It'. That's what Nazre called fornication. The matriarchal traditions of her people dictated that she take me no matter how much I struggled against her, and be filled with the warmth of life; a hazard of passing through the Ix'Quatal Jungles. If I didn't give in to her, Nazre would make sure I regretted it.
Oxygen escaped me, denying my retort. Instead, I caught myself upon the edge of a raging waterfall. There was nowhere to go but down and the plummet wasn't inviting; an angry froth raging below. My feet slipped out from under me, sending me sprawling to the rocky stream. A few seconds later, Nazre joined me. She landed with grace, catlike.
"You're better than this," she said, standing over me.
The Dark Elf amazon's crimson orbs stirred like half-lit embers, pupils shrinking to pinpricks. I had seen this look before, but never in the depths of the jungle. Initially, it made me want to shrink away, but I didn't. No. In some act of animal-magnetism, I felt my own passions stir. Nazre as graceful as a wildcat – like a panther in heat – and for all my former fear there was no denying her infectious, lustful aura.
"I will not be taken like some animal..." Mine was a throaty growl, a retort tainted with fear. But it turned into something else entirely when Nazre began unbuckling her belt.
My blood pounded at my temples. Heat bloomed across my skin, radiating outward. The dark elf's eyes burned like coals, hungry and yearning. Her hands were rough yet feminine, the delicacy of a woman's with the strength of a warrior's. They gripped my waist, pulling me up. I tried to resist, pushing back against her, but Nazre held firm. "Let me have you."
Her voice was husky, rasping, and it sent a shiver down my spine. Something about this savage jungle-woman was intoxicating. This was more than desire or need. It was primal, almost bestial. Part of me wanted to yield, to submit. Yet another part rebelled against it.