"It doesn't matter how you hide, find you if we're wanting to.
So slide back down and close your eyes, sleep a while, you must be tired."
But every night I burn, every night I call your name.
"Alright, Hawke, you've had your fun at my expense, now let me go. It's getting la- what are you doing?" She slammed the door behind them and wedged her staff into the latch notch. She'd pay Corff to get it fixed later, what mattered now was the flustered prince in white before her and the buckles of her robes.
"Like I said, your highness. One night." She stepped closer to him, hands now working on her belt. "Two people." The robes dropped to the floor now, and she stepped out of them, kicking off her boots. He was deliciouseven now as he backed towards the opposite wall, and in a matter of seconds, she'd have him cornered there, rooms at the Hanged Man were notoriously small. "And no more troubles."
Sebastian's eyes widened for a split second as her breastband came undone, and then he squinted his eyes shut. "I've pledged myself to the Maker, Dahlia. You know this. Why do you do this to me?"
The mage smiled as her smalls dropped to the floor, she was so close to him now, she could smell him sweat. "Because, love, you're adorable when you're flustered." His armor was cold against her breasts, pebbling her skin and the soft pink nipples, and she knew he could feel them against him, even through the metal.
His nostrils flared, his breaths were shallow, and yet he managed to open his bright blue eyes to meet her green gaze. "I shouldn't be doing this," he whispered before his hands shot up to cup her face and he bent down to kiss her, moaning in relief.
Dahlia's knees threatened to buckle at the warmth of his mouth, but she wanted more and she knew she'd have to push. She started to pull at his belt with one hand, the other snaking up his side to pull at the steel on his arm. "That makes it all the more glorious, ser." She arched back into the hand on her ass and the other hand that was filled with the soft flesh of her breast.
Sebastian's face was wrenched into a furrow of worry, his words pressed against the hollow of her neck as he tasted the salt of her skin. "Though the darkness comes upon me, I shall-oh, Maker," one of Dahlia's hands reached down to stroke the outline of his cock through his trousers, the other unlatching his breastplate with incredible dexterity. "I shall embrace the light."
She hated it when he broke into the Canticle of Threnodies, she could always hear the scorn in his brogue as he rolled over the consonants. "This storm shall take you, Sebastian, the winds will tear these clothes asunder." The last of his armor clanged to the ground, she winced when it fell onto her foot, but quickly forgot it as she pulled his head down lower, and a gust of pleasure raced through her to pool at her sex when she felt his tongue lave her nipple. Rough fingers pinched at the other, and her knees finally gave out, and she pulled him down to the floor, on top of her.
"No, I can't, I belong to the Maker's Bride," he moaned from the crook of her neck, and yet he offered no resistance as Dahlia pushed the mail coat down his shoulders and pulled his undershirt up over his head.
She chuckled, low and soft, nibbling at his earlobe and appreciating his shudder. "But has She ever showed you her appreciation for this gift?" She was getting impatient, and just as she worked his length free of his trewes, she bucked her hips up and pressed her soaking sex against the tip of him, and she almost went deaf at the sudden gasp in her ear.
Sebastian jerked and thrashed at the contact, but instinct from his earlier days kicked in and he thrust into her straight to the hilt. He gasped for air, fighting for the words to his prayers, fighting against the warmth of her skin and her sheath, but she was all around him, and damn him to the Void the pleasure engulfed him like the brightest holy flame, like the red of her hair.
The mage's back arched at the fantastic sensation of him filling her and slamming into her with his thrusts, and she wouldn't last much longer now, not with those piercing blue eyes staring down at her so hungrily.
"O Maker, hear my cry, guide me through the blackest nights."
Dahlia moaned his name, managed to gather the strength to lift herself up to kiss him again, and she knew he could feel her chuckle as his tongue thrashed against hers.
"Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked-"
The archer could take no more, and with his broad shoulder he pushed her back down to the floor before propping himself up on one elbow and reaching down between them to press against the trembling pearl that sent her bucking against him in pleasure. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the slaps of skin against skin, trying to drown out the moan of her ascent with his own, convinced that even if he could not muster the words the agony of his release would be prayer enough. He slumped forward as his strength left him, and yet his lips managed to find the warmth of the skin underneath him. Make me to rest in the warmest places.
Dahlia welcomed the painful grin on her face as she felt his seed spurt hot and thick inside her, knowing that Sebastian would be as just as flustered now as he was when she first pushed him into the room, but there would be so much less tension. And he'd never look at Transfigurations the same way ever again if she had anything to say about it.
"Maker, know my heart. Take from me a life of sorrow, lift me from a world of pain, judge me worthy of Your endless pride." Sebastian whimpered as his softened cock finally left her, but then he got painfully silent as he stood up to right his clothing, avoiding her gaze.
He continued his verses under his breath as he gathered his armor, and Dahlia soon found herself worrying whether he was genuinely angry with her, and if she had lost his friendship. Suddenly she was very conscious of her nakedness, and she pulled her robes closer to her and covered herself with them, her eyes fixed on the floorboards and she was trying very hard not to cry.
Sebastian made his way to the door, his shoulder guard still unattached and his belt draped over one shoulder, and he dislodged her staff from the door latch. He stopped muttering under his breath for a moment as the door opened, and turned to face her. Reluctantly, Dahlia looked up to meet his gaze. She wanted him to go so she could fall onto her side and curl up into a ball.
But then, a corner of his mouth perked up in the promise of a grin. "Is this what you'll do you me every time I suggest you, ah, join me for services?"