Short, bated breaths fanned out on Dorian's dark skin as his hands trailed up the Inquisitor's thin sides. The lithe form squirming under him was hypnotizing, but had no audience for the Tevinter man was focused on the soft lips that meshed with his. Teeth tugged at the tan man's lower lip hard, almost drawing blood. An apology barely left the elf's mouth before it was swallowed up by Dorian's eager mouth.
"Less talking, more getting in my pants." The words were uttered in a husky low whisper, accented by Dorian's addicting lilt. It sent shivers up the elf's spine and nethers. Dorian quickly unbuttoned Lavellan's shirt and threw it to the side. Where it landed was of no concern to the man. No, his main focus was the beautifully blank canvas of elven flesh before him, unmarked and pure. Dorian couldn't wait to make it even more beautiful with a myriad of love-bites and hickies.
"If you want to get this done before the war council, I suggest you get to work at once." A teasing smirk painted Dorian's handsome face, adoring the melodious sound of his lover's voice.
"Yes, yes, I'm getting there amatus."
Outside, Cullen sat, staring hard at the board. He knew he shouldn't have invited Josephine to play with him, not after that game of Wicked Grace. A faux smile stretched onto Josephine's sweet face.
"I believe you ha-" Josephine gasped in shock. Cullen's head shot up, eyes wide.
"What?" Josephine gripped the arm of her chair with one hand and held the other to her mouth. Cullen followed her eyes, which were no longer on the board and instead focused on the window behind Cullen. Cullen spun around, eager to see what Josephine was so surprised about. In hindsight, he should have just gotten up and left. Pressed up against the window was Lavellan, naked as the day he was born. And thrusting into his tight ass was Pavus. The sweat from Lavellan's thin body was smearing on the glass, leaving smudge marks behind with each thrust. Lavellan leaned his head back against the window in a euphoric moan, and by the Maker, the blond commander swore he could hear it. Red heat rushed to Cullen's face and spread to his ears and down his neck. He quickly turned around and stood, face still vermillion.
"Apologies, Ambassador, but I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short."
"Likewise." Both walked away from the window stiffly and as quick as possible. No amount of lyrium could ever erase that image from Cullen's memory.
