She was being foolish. Maker, she was being foolish.
It had happened so quickly. In the dead of night, cool and brisk with not a cloud in the sky, Hawke snuck away, clutched within her fist a scroll, vital to help the mages regain what little freedom they could. But it was not just that they were mages. They were her people. Had she been born under the right circumstances, she too, would have been a part of Kirkwall's Circle, and in all honesty, she wouldn't have been surprised if she'd been made Tranquil long ago. But that was not the case; while she tried to stay under the radar-all her accomplishments made it quite difficult-her presense as an apostate was making her relationship with the Templars more strained, and ultimately dangerous.
The scroll lay crumpled on the ground, long forgotten. Perhaps she should have expected this, perhaps not. Their banter, their clever quips back and forth when nobody was listening, Hawke had thought nothing of, and as far as she had known, neither had he. Yet here she was, in the dead of night, her message on the floor at their feet, her back pressed roughly against the wall of his study.
How she had made it into the Gallows undetected was beyond her, and yet, there was hardly a thought in her mind as she pulled her tunic up and over her head, feeling his hips pin hers against the wall, all the while he fumbled with the sash around his waist. A pleased growl fell from his lips when her hand entangled itself in his graying hair, tugging his head back harshly so she could better look into his eyes.
"I didn't think your offer to dance naked in the moonlight was a serious one, First Enchanter," she purred, her brow raising as a cheeky smirk curved her lips. "Color me surprised."
It was dark, and the moonlight that washed through the thin window of Orsino's office was just enough that she could see the dark smile tug at his lips, eyes flashing. Her grip on his hair did not falter, and as she watched him with baited breath, she could only laugh softly, pulling back a little harder. His chin raised as he obeyed her touch, jaw clenching as he exposed his neck. Maker, what was he doing? She was young, rebellious; what reason could such a beautiful woman want with an old mage like himself? And the scandal, should one of the Templars burst in...
He didn't care.
"You'll find I'm full of surprises, Hawke."
That was exactly what she wanted to hear. A sly grin lifted her features, her hand releasing his hair, and Hawke grabbed him by the front of his robes, tugging him forward and closing the space between them. Her lips met his roughly, hungrily, and there was little else on her mind as her nails dug into the fabric of his clothing, forcing the front of his robes open. Orsino obeyed willingly, his hands reaching for her hips, all to eager to oblige her whim. He could feel his robes undo, falling from his shoulders, hanging from his elbows as he refused to release her.
Hawke did not make this easy for him; her hand reached up to brace his neck as her lips moved gracefully against his, and her free one worked skillfully at her belt, easily undoing the leather strap keeping her breeches on. She'd long since kicked off her boots, and as her hips wiggled against his, she forced her pants over the ample curves, breeches falling to her ankles not moments later. Her hands entangled in his hair, and she vaguely heard the soft fwump as his robes fell to the ground, finally free from their confines. A pleased purr escaped her lips when they broke apart for a brief second, and locking eyes, their matching grins-as though doing something completely out of line, and yet oh, so satisfying-let the other know that their minds were on the same thing.
She jumped up, her legs locking around his waist, and she was surprised that for a man of his years, he caught her with ease backing her into the wall behind them. She could feel the coolness of the stone against her skin, while he took the opportunity to press his lips against her jaw, dancing across her neck with an experience she would not have expected of him. Her breath caught in her throat, taken by surprise, and the sly chuckle that escaped him had her skin prickling in anticipation. She would have never expected it, and as he drew away, their eyes locked again for a brief moment, before their lips crashed together again.
Arms supporting her weight, feeling her legs tighten around his waist, Orsino drew away from the wall, carrying her to the edge of his desk, setting her gently on the edge. She placed a hand behind her, bracing herself as he finished ridding himself of the last of his garments, all the while never breaking the kiss. Hawke eased out of her underwear, pulling away for a moment, her cheeks hot in a flush when her eyes fixed on the First Enchanter, far from the put-together man she was in contact with daily. His hair was disheveled, and there was a fire in his eyes that she'd not seen before, and as she backed away, quite hot and very naked, the dark grin that spread across his lips had her heart racing in a way she had not expected. But in the heat of the moment, the passion that had pulled the Champion and the First Enchanter together in the dead of night, in the secret of his office, Hawke didn't give a fuck what happened beyond then. It was she and Orsino, and no one could tear that apart.
She laid back down against the surface, hands pulling his face toward hers again, capturing his lips within her own. He obliged happily, climbing on the desk above her, drawing him nearer as his chest pressed gently against hers, a hand entangling in her dark hair. Her kiss was hungry, enticing, and as her fingers knotted in his hair, tugging lightly, she felt his hips move against hers, growing increasingly aroused, feeling his length press against her. The mere thought that he was at her mercy had her moaning, pleased, against his lips, and she felt him stiffen above her, a satisfied smile crossing her features. Her legs spread apart, locking around his waist, and she moved her hips against his in a slow, taunting manner, inviting him to have her as he wished.
Groaning into her kiss, he lifted himself, supporting himself with one arm, his free hand running down her body, over her breast and along her waist. He could feel the tight, toned muscles of her stomach beneath his fingers, and yet her skin was soft and smooth, gentle. Her natural scent was exhilarating, sweet and subtle, but just enough to send him in a whirl of desire.
There was a moment, a brief manner of minutes when they broke the kiss, the tips of their noses still touching as they caught their breath. Hawke's bright, blue-green eyes fixed on the First Enchanter, an amused grin curving her lips as he met her gaze with a sheepish, almost embarrassed smile. He glanced away, and her hands came to rest on either side of his face, stroking his weathered skin gently, tracing the lines the years granted him. He almost looked like a young man, in the heat of the moment, experiencing intimacy of this sort for the first time, and as she drew his gaze back to her with a gentle touch against his jaw, she greeted him with a sweet, gentle smile, her pale cheeks colored in a rosy blush.
"Why?" His voice was soft, husky, and he drew away, his emerald eyes tracing over her face, searching for an answer. "Why all of this, Hawke? Why me?"
"Why not?" she replied, a sly little smirk curving her lips, a knowing, smug expression coloring her features. "I can leave, if that's what you want~"
"No." He spoke quickly, and Hawke giggled at his sudden urgency, and the embarrassed expression crossed his features again as he cleared his throat. "I mean-"
"Hush, Orsino," Hawke interrupted gently, thumbs tracing along the crow's feet that crinkled when he smiled. "You are a remarkable man, and the risk you take to get the mages the freedom they deserve...any woman would be honored."
Her touch was so delicate, so loving, he could not remember when a woman touched him like that last. His eyes closed for a moment, leaning into her touch, his already racing heart skipping a beat when he heard her laugh gently at his obvious delight. His lips lifted into a boyish grin when he finally opened his eyes again, and after a moment of searching within hers, a renewed vigor had him capturing her lips in his again.
This kiss was different, however; though filled with as much passion as before, it was slower, sweeter, and there was a certain tenderness between the pair of them that they'd not felt before. Shifting above her, Orsino's hips moved against Hawke's, and her leg-still wrapped around him, drew him nearer, inviting him to take her as he would. And yet, so taken with the kiss, their naked bodies pressed against each other, it was difficult to focus on little else.
There was a pause. The kiss broke, and eyes fluttered open, fixing on one another. Hawke could feel her heart racing, her body filled with an exhilaration that nothing else could grant. There were no words spoken between them, and as she gazed into his eyes, she found the question that he longed to ask, and yet found himself unable to put into words. A smirk curved her lips lazily, and the expression within her eyes instilled within him the courage he needed to ask her what he so longed to.
"...may I?"
Her smirk widened, but said nothing. Her lashes fluttered as the anticipation coursed through her, and slowly, surely she nodded, a gleeful giggle escaping her lips at his realization that she had assured him it was what she wanted. A pleased, albeit relieved, huff escaped him, and the boyish grin that had crossed his features again was only met by a matching smile of her own.
His lips found her neck, kissing the pale, tender flesh as he gently entered her, a deep groan passing from his lips, the sensation causing his skin to prickle in delight. Hawke's eyes closed, biting her lip, and she struggled to keep within her the purr that would likely draw them attention. Rather, her hands entangled in his hair as his teeth grazed against her collar bone, and slowly, steadily, their hips began to move together in a perfect rhythm, the still air of his office filling with the sounds of their pleasured mewls.
However, heavy, metallic footsteps outside their door had them both freezing, and Hawke cast her eyes toward the entranced, her brows knitting together in frustration. They would be caught for sure if they continued, and pushing her dark hair out of her eyes, her attention drew back to Orsino, whose attention had been fixed on the woman beneath him the entire time. Concern only flashed across her face briefly, until she saw the naughty smirk which had curved the corners of his lips, brows raising. Had her face not already been flushed, she no doubt would have done darker with the way he looked at her, and yet, she could tell exactly what he was thinking.
"What if-"
"Let them hear," he growled huskily, and suddenly, Hawke's back arched when he pushed further within her, her hands which had previously been tangled in his hair dragging across his back, leaving raised lines where her nails dug against his skin. His speed increased and she could feel herself, as though by instinct, moving in time with Orsino, each pump of her hips against his pulling forth a wanton moan from her lips, voice echoing, almost musically, through the air. The footsteps halted outside the door, listening for any sign of activity within, and it only provoked Hawke to push herself forward, shifting their positions as quickly and gracefully as none other, and suddenly, Orsino found himself at her mercy, back pushed flush against his desk, a beautiful woman straddled across him.
Lowering herself onto his shaft, her hips moved in a slow, teasing manner, and beneath her, she could feel a hand in her hip, nails digging into her flesh as Orsino's free hand entangled into his hair, pulling roughly against his graying tresses. She moved with a certain grace, and with each motion of her hips, she pulled from him a deep, longing groan of a man who'd not made love to a woman in years. Her hand reached out, taking his chin in her grasp, forcing him to meet her fiery gaze, a dangerous smile curving her lips.
"Don't tell me that's all you have, old man."
It was as though something had clicked within him, and not allowing Hawke her satisfaction, he pulled himself upward, arms wrapping around her torso, pumping his hips against hers as she was taken by surprise. One hand was at the small of her back, the other at her side, supporting her breast as he held onto her. Not seconds later, his lips pressed against her skin, and taking her nipple into his mouth, he'd traced circles around it, before flicking it with the tip of his tongue.
Her mewls grew greater in volume, and no sooner than she had thrown her head back, Orsino continuing to pleasure her chest, than the latch of the handle began to jiggle with urgency, the templar outside pounding on the door to force their way in. Hawke didn't even think to be concerned with it; Orsino, without skipping a beat, waved his hand lazily in the entrance's direction, sparks of light and magic traveling across the office in a shining stream, settling upon the door and making it impenetrable. They could very well still hear the pair as they continued, and Hawke could slowly feel herself climbing toward climax, the indescribable desire she felt for the man with her, mixed with the satisfaction of the templars hearing them, helpless to stop them, pushing her closer and closer to the brink. It would not be much longer, and as his mouth drew away from her breasts, his hand reaching for the nape of her neck, drawing her face back to him, Orsino captured her lips within his, becoming fully one with her.
And suddenly, it was as though a burst of fire, like the magic she wielded, tore through her, and ripples of pleasure pulsed from her very core to the tips of her fingers and toes. She moaned deeply into his mouth, and her body trembled as orgasm washed over her, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. His movements slowed as he felt her climax against him, and while per body slumped against him, weak from the pleasure that had taken her being, he held her closely, his face burying into the crook of her neck. The both breathed deeply, and Hawke held onto him tenderly as wave after wave continued to wash over her, seemingly numbing her.
It had grown quiet from the other side of the door. Hawke had been far from quiet, and even as her climax began to ease away, the smirk that lifted her lips was smug enough to know that the dirty bastards had listened to her orgasm from the other side. Still, all thoughts were pushed aside as she realized Orsino still held on tightly, and gently, her hands ran along his graying hair, stroking his tresses tenderly. Slipping from his lap, she came to a rest upon the desk before him, a stupid grin spread across her face as she gazed at the First Enchanter fondly. His arms opened up to her, and she immediately cozying up next to him, her head resting against his shoulder.
"I never would have thought you had it in you," she teased softly, her fingers tracing circles across his chest. "I'm happy you did, though."
A deep chuckle escaped his lips, and his hand caressed her arm gently, his chin resting atop his head. "All for you, my dear," he murmured in response, eyes closing lazily, happily. "Perhaps next time, it can be truly under the moonlight?"
"I think I'd like that," she returned, nibbling gently on her lip. "Whatever happens, I'm coming back for more. I just hope you keep up."
Giving her a squeeze, Hawke felt Orsino plant a gentle kiss on the top of her head.
"I'm full of surprises..."