Her words came out halting, unsure, each one paired with a hesitant inch higher, her fingertips light and shaky. She stopped short, hovering, eyes wide as she peeked at him, cheeks already pink.

A rough growl rumbled from Ryker’s throat, low and hungry. His hand slid down her back, settling at the curve above her hips, fingers pressing through her thin shift—just enough to feel her shiver, her breath catching in a tiny gasp.

Ryker (husky, teasing):

"Oh, I know exactly what you’re talking about."

His grin was slow and wicked, but he didn’t rush her. He tugged her gently to stand between his thighs, hands resting on her hips, thumbs brushing under her shift to stroke her skin—soft, warm, quivering under his touch.

Elda:

“You—you do?”

Her voice was small, eyes darting to the floor, then back to him. He fumbled behind her, picking up a smooth earthen wand from the table—polished, Ryker gently quivered it through his mana. He held it out, then pressed it lightly to her neck, rolling it slow. The vibration sank in, and she groaned, head tipping back.

Ryker:

“Starting with this, just. for. You.”

His voice was rough, playful, as he took the wand from her shaky grip.

He dialed it up, the hum sharpening, and traced it down her arm—slow, gentle, watching her skin prickle.

Elda:

“I—I didn’t remember thi—oh, that’s… nice.”

Her words stumbled, a soft squeak slipping out as he slid the wand to her lower back, pressing it where her spine dipped. The buzz tingled through her, and she swayed, hands fluttering to his shoulders, clinging lightly. “Ry, what are you doing?”

Ryker:

“Just warming you up, my dear. You’re trembling already.”

He grinned, pulling her into his lap, slow and careful, her knees settling on either side of him. The wand hummed as he ran it up her side, teasing the edge of her shift, brushing the soft curve beneath her chest. Her breath hitched, eyes wide, a flush creeping down her neck.

Elda:

“Ry—it’s—it’s too much, I—I don’t know what to do!”

Her voice cracked, half a giggle, half a plea, she grabbed the wand back with shaky hands. She pushed at his chest, guiding him deeper into the chair, climbing atop him clumsily—her shift riding up, baring pale thighs. She pressed the wand to his chest, sliding it down his abs, hesitant but curious, watching them tighten.

Ryker:

“Too much? You’re doing fine, El—damn fine.”

His hands found her thighs, sliding under the shift, kneading gently—firm but not rough, feeling her tense then melt. Snatching back the wand, the hum buzzing against his belly button, he turned it back to her, slowly sliding down.

Elda:

“Ry—I—I didn’t think it’d feel like this.”

He spread open her thighs wider. The wand buzzed against her skin, sliding slow and deliberate over the soft mound above her clit—close, so close—its vibration pulsing through the thin shift. Her hips twitched, a tiny whimper slipping out, and he pressed it lower, letting the rounded tip graze the edge of her most sensitive spot, the hum sinking in deep.

Elda:

“Ry—oh—w-what’s that—?”

Her words broke into a gasp, high and shaky, her hands clutching his shoulders, nails biting in as the sensation hit. Her thighs quivered, clamping around him, and her wide eyes locked on his—startled, pleading, a flush blooming from her cheeks down her chest. The wand’s hum thrummed against her clit now, light but relentless, and she squirmed, half-pulling away, half-pressing closer.

Ryker:

“That’s it, El—right there, huh? You like that?”

He smirked, voice thick with heat, holding her steady with one hand on her hip while the other guided the wand—circling slow, teasing the swollen bud, then pressing just a little harder. The vibration rippled through her, wet heat seeping against his fingers as he nudged the shift aside, baring her to the firelight. Her breath came in short, frantic bursts, hips rocking instinctively against the buzzing wood.

Elda:

“I—I don’t—it’s—Ryker, please!”

Her plea was a jumble, innocent panic laced with need, her body trembling as the wand’s hum pushed her higher. She buried her face in his neck, muffling a soft cry, her thighs slick and shaking against his breeches. Her hands clawed at his skin gently but surely, clinging as the sensation overwhelmed her—new, wild, too much and not enough.

Ryker:

“Please what, my dear? Tell me—or I’ll keep going ‘til you can’t talk.”

He growled low, shifting the wand to slide along her clit again—up, down, a slow drag that made her jolt with every pass. His free hand slipped under her shift, cupping her arse, lifting her closer so the vibration hit just right. Her gasps turned to whimpers, her innocence unraveling in the fireglow, and he watched her fall apart, eyes dark with hunger and triumph.

Elda:

“Please Ryyyyy. I can’t wait any more! Please take me…”

Ryker:
"And I also know… that I’ve been waiting way too long for this."
Flinging away the vibrating wand for a bigger meat-ier wand right between his legs.

Distant into the night, the master bedroom creaks loudly, Ryfel awakes from the noise. He turns to find out what happened.