This be what I want

[moonshadows]

High atop one of the floating islands that had once been part of Terokkar Forest, Illidan and Zul’vii lounged beside the remains of a picnic. Or rather, Illidan lounged against the trunk of an olemba tree while Zul’vii lounged comfortably in his lap. After the Winter Veil revelation that they each wanted more than simple companionship from the other, Illidan had started making courting gestures – awkwardly, because neither he nor Zul’vii had known how to breech the walls of what they allowed themselves, and neither of them had any experience in courting. But here, in a floating glade empty of anything larger than a squirrel, full of good food and sweet wine, Zul’vii decided she didn’t care.

Illidan’s haze of contentment was pierced by trollish teeth on the skin of his neck, trollish lips sucking, and the sudden memory of those lips sucking elsewhere. A breathy groan escaped him as another part of his body remembered those lips as well, straining against constraining cloth. He did not protest as clever hands freed him, nor as Zul’vii twisted in his arms until she straddled him. Her lips were sweet beneath his, her back warm against his hands which slipped carefully under her tunic, but she broke the kiss with a laugh and pulled the tunic over her head.

“Here,” she purred, arching her back to offer him green-nippled breasts. “See what you can do with these.”

Breasts. This was something he’d only imagined in ten thousand years. Illidan’s cock ached as his hands slid gingerly over them, thumbs teasing those dark green nipples, eliciting little moans of pleasure from his troll. Experimentally, he licked one and then sucked it carefully, mindful of his fangs, grunting as she stroked his length with her fingertips.

“Forget that,” she breathed, “I want you too badly.”

The breasts retreated as she stood up, shedding her pants. Her hands drew him to his hooves and he stepped out of his own trousers as they puddled around his ankles, following a few steps and sinking to his knees at her direction. Ten thousand years of being told no one would ever desire him were not so easily shaken off, especially not combined with the fear of hurting his troll. Illidan would follow her lead in this gladly.

Zul’vii lay back on the grass, pulling her half-demon down for more kisses, her calves caressing his thighs as she silently urged him to take her. She moaned as the head of his penis found her opening, and Illidan let out a small sound of pleasure, but hesitated there.

“I’ll heal,” she said softly, her hands forcing his head up until she could meet his eyes. “I want you in me.”

Illidan swallowed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ll heal, you stubborn old fossil,” she repeated with a grin. “Now use that demonic strength of yours and get in there.”

He caressed her face gently with one hand as though asking if she were really serious about this, not bothering to hide his worry. The impatient nudging of her heels against the backs of his thighs convinced him and tentatively, he pushed. When the troll slid forward with his motion, he growled and planted his hands on the grass above her shoulders. Again he pushed, trying to close his ears to the muffled sounds of pain, listening instead to the smooth green legs urging him deeper and the incredible sensation of his cock sliding into that impossibly tight warmness.

“Zul’vii,” he moaned as he buried himself to the hilt in her, struggling to hold still against the desires of his body.

“Stay there,” she panted, hands reaching around his broad back, trying to hold him to her. “Don’t apologize,” she continued, correctly anticipating his intent to do just that. “I want this. I want you. Just give me a minute.”

“You may not have a minute,” he growled as her fingers found the sensitive base of his wings.

The fingers stilled. “You like that, hmm?” With a throaty chuckle, Zul’vii ran her fingers up the sensitive connection of skin to membrane.

The Lord of Outland cried out, head thrown back as he struggled to plunge even deeper into her, wings beating, cock pulsing as the wave of pleasure took him. “Evil…wench…” he panted, repositioning arms that trembled and threatened to give out.

“Shh, stay there.” Zul’vii grinned. “You’ll get hard again soon enough, you overgrown billygoat, and I don’t want to have to fight to get you back where I want you.”

Illidan groaned noncommittally.

“Trolls are notoriously horny, you know,” she said. “I’ve wanted to have you inside me like this for a long time so you could fuck me silly, but I wasn’t strong enough to get you in there.”

“Even though-”

“Shh.” Zul’vii pulled his head up by the horns until she could kiss him. “No more doubting yourself, you sexy beast. This be what I want. You gonna give it to me, or do I need to take it?”

Illidan grinned, rising to the challenge physically and emotionally. “Fine, you obnoxious overgrown lightning bug.” A slow retreat had him biting back a groan as her body tightened around him, reluctant to let him go, and he thrust forward in a sudden motion that made them both gasp.

Centuries of experience told him that he would be able to go much longer now that the initial need had been sated, and he reveled in the sensation of sliding in and out, of reducing his fierce troll to savage cries and clawing fingers. He felt her climax approach, grunting as each thrust became a struggle against muscles that did not want to let him pass – or leave – and then she cried out as that tightness rippled around his shaft, caressing and stroking and doing its best to milk him. Illidan moaned at the sweet sensations, half disappointed that he could not accept the invitation to fill her with his seed, and half grateful that he could experience them without the mind-blowing pleasure of orgasm overwhelming him.

It hit him then that he had just sexually satisfied a woman, his woman. He had brought her this joy, despite being a half-demon, a monster, an ancient fossil of an elf. In awe, he stopped and drank in the look on her face, wondering if Tyrande looked this beautiful when his brother was pleasuring her, if Furion worshipped her the way Illidan now worshipped his troll. Once, that thought would have soured his gratification. Now, he spared a moment to pity Tyrande her choice and cast off the last regrets that clung to him.

“What’s wrong?” asked Zul’vii, fingers on his cheek, cupping it gently.

Illidan turned to kiss them. “Just admiring how beautiful you are.”

Amber eyes opened wide. That was the tone of voice she’d only ever heard Illidan use with Tyrande. “You mean that?”

Tenderly, he laid a kiss on her parted lips. “Of course. I may be biased because I love you, but your beauty outshines the White Lady in my eyes.”

“Illidan…”

“I am yours, Zul’vii,” he said firmly. “You chose me, for good or ill, and I chose you. All that I am is at your command; I love you, and I will love you until the end of my days.”

The half-troll looked stunned. “No offense, but Tyrande’s missing out.” A surprisingly tender expression suffused her features, and she smiled with just a hint of smugness. “I scored the handsome twin.” The look of utter surprise on his face made her laugh, and she drew his head back down for a kiss. “Come on, you moldy old bat, Zul’vii still got needs and so do you.” She caressed his cheek with one hand and licked her lips. “I want to see you fierce and strong as you take what you want from me. You’re Illidan Stormrage; you don’t settle for second-best, and you don’t let anyone tell you what to do. That’s always turned me on,” she admitted, cheeks flushing a darker green.

The words stroked his ego, feeling like her hands on his shaft. “Well, when you ask so nicely,” he purred, smirking.

Zul’vii gasped as the big half-demon gave in to the urgings of his body, wings beating in time with his thrusts, panting as he dominated the body which struggled to heal around him. Her legs curled around his waist and she found herself being nearly lifted off the ground with the force of his hips. Growling, he clamped his hands around her shoulders to hold her in place as his gloriously huge shaft rammed into her again and again. She could feel herself nearing orgasm again and slid her hands over his chest and around to his back again, searching for the sensitive spots she’d discovered before. Illidan’s breath hitched for a moment before she could reach them, and the anticipatory thrill of knowing he was about to climax – that she was the one to bring him such bliss – nudged her so close to the edge that when he threw his head back and bellowed, her back arched and she cried out as she followed him into that sweet abyss.

Several sweaty, contented minutes later, Zul’vii found herself sprawled across Illidan’s broad chest with something warm dribbling slowly from her traumatized nether regions.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not trying to hide his concern.

Slowly, she levered herself up and glanced down. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and frowned as he took in the drying blood coating his member and sluggishly dripping down her thighs, mixed with his seed.

“Don’t you even try to feel bad about that,” she said sharply. “I know it can be done now, and I’ll do it myself if I have to.”

It was true, he knew. The idea of her forcing herself down on his – he cut the thought short before his reaction became visible. “We should find a stream and wash up,” he said instead. “I don’t want Ember smelling blood and asking what we did.”

Zul’vii watched with some amusement as the thick substance kept coming. “Yeah, we gonna need to wash up. I guess we’re gonna find out if we can have kids or not,” she said with a grin.

Illidan said nothing, climbing to his hooves and lifting her to her feet where he pulled her against his chest and held her gently. After a moment, her arms slid around him and she nestled closer.

“I love you, obnoxious whelp,” he said softly.

She smiled against his shoulder. “I love you, arrogant fossil.”