"Actually, I haven't ever …"

Bethany's face was bright red, both from embarrassment and the half bottle of wine she'd drunk. Everyone at the table stopped to stare at her, but she waved her wine glass at them. "So I have no stories," she finished. "Someone else talk."

Oghren immediately launched into a horrifying story about a woman and a nug infestation in her bedroom, but Nathaniel ignored him. He reached across the table and touched Bethany's hand. "Hey," he said softly.

She reddened even more, but let him take her hand and pull her to her feet. "Sorry," she said. "I should've said something …"

"I'd wondered," he admitted. They wandered to a quieter corner of the tavern. When they stopped, she looked at her feet. He tipped her chin up and framed her face with his hands. "It's all right. I promise."

"It's not," she said. "I'm just … scared."

"What scares you?"

"Everything." She met his eyes. "Not being good enough. For you."

He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. "You will always be a damned sight better than 'good enough,' no matter what you're doing."

That earned him a small smile. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. Nathaniel closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her soft, lithe body pressed against his, the small helpless noise she made when he nipped at her bottom lip before pulling away. She swayed on her feet when he let her go. He grinned. "I think you're done for the night."

"Yeah. The room's spinning a little."

He led her back to the inn and deposited her in the room she shared with Sigrun. Later, as he lay in his own bed, he took himself in hand and thought about the taste of her on his lips. He'd done that quite a bit lately. It was almost more frustrating than before, the months in which he'd watched her quietly, unsure if she'd welcome his advances.

Nathaniel was a patient man, though. He'd have to be.

Several days later, Nathaniel was sitting in the cool quiet of the Keep's armory, restringing his bow when Bethany found him. She settled onto the floor next to him, her back against the wall. "Can I ask you something?"

"Always."

She hesitated. "How many …" She scrunched up her nose and looked away. "How many … partners have you had? Do you know?"

Nathaniel smiled. He poked her arm, running his finger lightly across her skin. "Not so many that I can't count, I assure you."

She looked back at him. "Really?"

"Really." He thought for a moment. "A dozen?" he guessed. "Maybe fifteen?"

"Huh. I guess I just assumed … since you're older than me ..."

"Not every man heads for the brothel on every free night, you know."

Bethany snorted. "Maybe I just spent too much time following my brother in and out of the Blooming Rose."

"Very likely. I can't say I didn't avail myself of the Rose's services a couple of times, though, when I lived there."

"I almost did, once." When Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at her, she giggled. "I made the mistake of telling Isabela I was a virgin. She offered to pay for a night at the Rose. There were nights I was almost lonely enough to take her up on it."

Nathaniel put his bow down, reached out and pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. She laid her head on his shoulder. "My first time was with a woman in Amaranthine," he said. "There's not a brothel, but there are always people willing to take coin for services. One of my father's soldiers introduced me to her. It was … awkward. It didn't last very long."

"Why not?"

Nathaniel laughed. He kissed her on the top of her head. "Because teenage boys are generally very desperate, and prone to explode at the mere touch of a woman."

"Oh."

When Nathaniel looked down, he saw a blush stain her cheeks. He couldn't resist adding, "You know, I'm half afraid the same thing will happen the first time you touch me."

She looked up at him and tried to scowl, but the corners of her mouth were turning up too much to pull it off. "You will not," she grumbled. "You're just trying to make me feel better."

He looked down at the swell of her breasts, visible above the neckline of the casual dress she wore around the Keep; they rose and fell in time with her breathing, and Nathaniel felt a stirring below his belt. "No," he said softly. "I just want you."

Bethany twisted around in his grasp. She rose to her knees and placed a hand on Nathaniel's chest as she studied his face. After a moment, she leaned over and nuzzled the stubble along his jaw. Nathaniel tugged at her waist until she sat down in his lap. She adjusted herself until she was straddling one of his legs. The position allowed for a lot of exposed milky white skin very close to Nathaniel's groin; he bit back a groan and wrapped his arms around her waist to avoid the temptation to run his fingers up the inside of her thighs. He moved his leg, trying to find a comfortable position, but the movement brought his thigh in contact with the warmth between her legs. She made a whimpering noise, and heat flared up through his body. "Oh," she said, clutching Nathaniel's shirt. "Oh."

He entertained the brief thought of divesting both of them of their smallclothes and sliding her onto his cock right there on the dirty floor. He had to press his face into the crook of her neck and breathe to steady himself. "Bethany," he murmured into her skin.

Something crashed in the room next door - someone knocking over a set of armor, Nathaniel figured by the sound - and Bethany jumped to her feet. Nathaniel stood up more slowly; he tried to ignore his physical discomfort, but after a moment, he gave up and adjusted the front of his pants for more room. He looked up to find Bethany staring at him. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," he said. He was straining against his trousers, yes, but the haze of desire that hadn't quite drifted out of her gaze made him feel like he could head out and take on a whole herd of darkspawn by himself, if only she'd agree to come to his bed afterward and stay for a week. He took a deep breath. "We should go," he said reluctantly. "The Commander's meeting should be happening soon."

"Right. Yes." Bethany straightened her skirt. Then, she looked up and smiled shyly at him. Something squeezed inside his chest. He grinned and tapped her nose, which caused her to stick her tongue out at him. "You're such a bad influence," she teased.

"What, because I'm tempting you into wanton thoughts?"

"Mmmm." She kissed him quickly. "Exactly."

Nathaniel grinned as she walked out of the room. He tried not to watch the sway of her backside when he followed her, but really, who could blame him?

When Nathaniel went back to his room later that night, he found Bethany sitting on the edge of his bed. Her legs swung off the side, bare feet making nervous circles in the air. She looked up when she heard the door. "Hi."

"Hi." He approached the bed. "Bethany …"

She grabbed his hand and started to scoot back farther onto the bed. He allowed himself to be pulled along, until his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He climbed up and lay down beside her. She turned on her side to face him. "You don't mind?" she said. "That I don't know what I'm doing?"

"Not at all," he said honestly, trailing a finger across her cheek. "I'm actually selfish enough to be glad I don't have to imagine any other man touching you the way I want to touch you."

She smiled. Nathaniel could see her trembling slightly. "Then touch me," she whispered. "Please, Nathaniel."

Every time he'd kissed Bethany before - maybe half a dozen times - he'd held himself back to match her tentative overtures. Now, he let go; he pulled her underneath him and dipped his tongue into her mouth in long, lazy strokes. What her response lacked in practice it made up for in enthusiasm; he wouldn't have traded the tiny sounds she made when he sucked on her bottom lip for the moans of the most sexually experienced woman in Ferelden. He nudged her knees apart, and she responded by wrapping her legs around his waist. She tugged the strap that bound his hair away from his face. When his hair fell around their faces, she giggled into his mouth. "That tickles," she murmured.

He grinned and moved slowly away from her mouth. He didn't kiss the pale skin of her neck and collarbone - not yet, much as he longed to taste - but instead let his hair trail down until he reached the edge of her dress neckline, enjoying her breathy laugh as he tickled her skin. He placed a quick, soft kiss at the top of her cleavage, and was rewarded with a shudder and an arched back. He slid a finger underneath the neckline. "Sit up, darling," he said. "Let me take this off."

She obliged, and wiggled until he was able to extract her skirt from underneath her and pull the whole garment over her head. Nathaniel didn't realize that she wore no other clothing on her upper body until he saw her breasts tumble free of the fabric. He tossed the dress aside and took a moment to stare. Bethany made an instinctive move to cover herself, but he watched her deliberately let her arms fall to her sides. She averted her gaze, however, until he leaned in close. He felt her nipples brush softly against the fabric of his shirt. She inhaled sharply. "Sensitive?" he asked. She nodded. "Lay down," he instructed. "I'm going to taste you, like I've been imagining for weeks."

When she flushed, the red spread all the way down to her chest. He laughed as he eased her back down onto the bed. "Do you not want me to tell you those things? I won't, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No." She gasped when he bent down and took a nipple into his mouth. "Tell me," she said, her voice squeaking on the second word. "Tell me everything."

He began murmuring as he lavished attention on her breasts. "I knew you'd taste so good," he said before swirling his tongue around a hardened nipple. She moaned, but swallowed the sound. Nathaniel raised his head to look up at her, rolling her nipple in between his fingers. "You sound so good like this. I want to hear you. Please."

She propped herself up on one elbow and picked at his shirt with her other hand. "Will you …" She bit her lip and continued in a near whisper. "Take this off? I want to feel your skin."

Nathaniel smiled and sat up. As he unbuttoned his shirt, she reached up and trailed a hand down the strip of skin he exposed. When he shrugged the shirt to the ground, she laid her palms flat over his stomach. He felt his cock jump when she trailed lightly down to the waistband of his trousers. She saw the movement, and her hand hovered over the area of his body where he most wanted to feel her touch. "I …" She looked up at him.. "Can I?" she said, almost inaudibly.

iYes/i, his entire body shouted. However, he grabbed her wrist lightly. "If you touch me now," he told her, his voice surprisingly rough, "this whole thing will be over far too quickly."

Bethany smiled. "I do that to you?"

"Yes. All the time."

"Oh." She struggled back up to sitting and looped her arms around him. Her fingers traced patterns over the muscles on his back. "Can I tell you something?" she said, her eyes on his chest.

"Of course."

She took a couple of deep breaths. Her gaze flicked up to Nathaniel's face, then back down again. "I've touched myself," she said quickly. "In bed. Thinking about you."

Nathaniel felt his self-control stretch almost to the breaking point. He put a hand on her thigh, his thumb dangerously close to her warm core. She shuddered. "Down there?" he murmured, his lips pressed to her temple. "Between your legs?"

"Yes." The word came out on a hissing exhale.

His hand inched up her thigh. She squirmed. "Do you want me to touch you like that?"

"Oh. Oh, yes."

He pushed her back down onto her back, then leaned over and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her mouth. "Show me," he said.

"What?"

He reached down and tugged slightly on her remaining smallclothes. "Show me what makes you feel good, when you touch yourself."

Bethany's eyes were wide as saucers. "Really? You want me to …"

"Maker, yes." Nathaniel almost didn't recognize his own voice, wrecked as it sounded. "Show me, so I can give you pleasure."

She was trembling again, but she let him slide the plain cotton cloth down her thighs. Her fingers brushed the dark curls at the juncture of her thighs, and Nathaniel swallowed thickly. He gently nudged her thighs apart until she was revealed to him, warm and wet. When she hesitantly touched the nub between her legs, her muscles tensed, and Nathaniel swore under his breath. He'd intended to let her get comfortable with herself before he touched her, but the sight and smell of her broke what little control he had left. "Bethany," he growled. "I'm going to touch you now."

He didn't give her time to respond; he slid a finger between her folds, pushing hers out of the way and circling her nub slowly. He was rewarded with a high-pitched noise that was something between a whimper and a sigh, which got louder as he picked up his pace. After a few minutes, Nathaniel stretched back out next to her, keeping one hand working between her legs as he pressed tiny kisses to her neck and jaw. She'd screwed her eyes shut, so he kissed the corner of one of her eyes. "Look at me," he said. "Look at me, Bethany, I want to see you."

Her eyelids fluttered open. When she focused enough to meet Nathaniel's gaze, he stopped his frantic rubbing long enough to slip one finger inside her body. She sucked in a breath and arched her back off the bed. "Nathaniel!"

"Does that feel good?" He moved the finger in and out at the same sort of pace he'd been using. When he crooked his finger, she whimpered. "Tell me."

"Yes," she breathed. "Strange but … oh, yes. More."

He watched her face for a few more minutes, until he felt her shudder in the particular way he'd been waiting for. She cried his name as she tumbled over the edge. It sounded better than he'd ever imagined, even in his favorite private fantasies.

After she caught her breath, she rolled over to face Nathaniel. "Wow," she said with a breathy laugh. "I never thought …"

"Never thought what?"

"That it would feel like that."

"And how did it feel?"

"Amazing. Kind of embarrassing."

He frowned, caressing her hip. "Why?"

"It felt like I was making ridiculous noises."

Nathaniel smiled. He slid his hand over her hip until he had a handful of her soft, lovely backside. When he squeezed lightly, she squeaked. "Ridiculous noises are what it's all about, my love," he told her.

"Well, you haven't really made any," she pointed out.

"Give me time." He reached down and unfastened his trousers.

Next to him, Bethany propped herself up on one elbow and watched him tug his trousers off. He watched her face, but as soon as he was naked, her gaze was focused on his cock. He smiled to himself and scooted up to lean his back on the headboard. She followed him, and he pulled on her waist until she was straddling his legs. She looked at him. "Why didn't you want me to touch you before?" she asked.

"Because I wanted you to have your pleasure first."

"Why?"

"Because …" She reached down between them and wrapped her fingers tentatively around his cock. His breath hissed between his teeth. "Because," he started again, "a woman can take her pleasure multiple times. We men are built differently - once it's over, it's usually over for the whole night." She tried to slide her hand up his shaft, and he winced, caught between pain and the most pleasure he'd felt in ages. He gently tugged at her wrist. "Let me see your hand, sweetheart."

She watched him with wide eyes as he brought her hand up to his mouth and licked stripes across her palm. "It feels better this way," he explained.

With a wet palm, she reached back down and grabbed him. This time, her hand slid more easily up and down, and Nathaniel groaned. Her fingers were slightly calloused - from wielding a staff, he supposed - and when she stopped to experimentally run her fingers up and down the underside of his cock, he let his head fall back to the wall and swore. "Sweet Andraste, Bethany, I've wanted your touch."

A few minutes later, she stopped. He looked back at her; she was regarding him with serious eyes. "I want you inside of me," she said softly. "Is that okay?"

He couldn't suppress a laugh. "Come here, sweetheart, I can't tell you how much I need to be inside of you right now."

When Bethany moved up to straddle his hips, he grasped her waist. "This might hurt," he warned her. "The first time usually does, I'm told."

She nodded. "I know. I'm ready."

After a few moments of positioning, he felt his tip slip inside of her. She inhaled, and slowly - so slowly, slowly enough that Nathaniel had to forcibly press his own hips into the bed to keep from speeding up the process - she slid down on him. He felt her barrier momentarily, but at that moment, Bethany bit her lip and pressed down until he was fully inside of her. When she gasped, Nathaniel pulled her close and kissed her sloppily. "So good," he murmured into her mouth. "So very good."

"Help me," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "What do I do?"

"Move. Like this." He pushed her hips until she withdrew enough that only his tip remained, at which point he snapped his hips forward and buried himself inside of her again. She dug her nails into his shoulders. "How does that feel?"

"Weird. Very weird." But this time, she raised and lowered herself without his prompting. Her hips fell forward on the next thrust, and her gasp sounded less pained. "Oh. That's better. Yes."

Nathaniel started to roll his hips with hers, forcing her into a rhythm that made her let out tiny noises with every thrust. She was so tight, so hot, so amazing … he could feel the energy gathering underneath his skin, and he struggled to focus on her expression. "Bethany. Are you …" She changed the angle, just slightly, and whatever he'd been about to ask slid away into a long, low moan.

"Oh, I like that," she said shakily. "That noise. Do it again."

"Faster," he could only mutter. "Holy Maker, Bethany, faster."

She sped up the rhythm; Nathaniel found himself helplessly hanging on, his face buried in her neck and his hips thrusting erratically. The words he spoke into her skin came out a jumbled mess of scratchy groans and grunts. Finally, he couldn't hold on any longer, and he emptied himself into her with a cry.

She held onto him while he shook. When he was still, she slowly withdrew from him and collapsed onto the bed next to him. He slid down next to her and gathered her to his chest. She pressed her face into his skin. "Mmmmmm," she groaned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, when his brain allowed him to form words again.

"Mmmmmmm," Bethany said again, before lifting her head to look at him. "I feel … all stretched out. It's weird. Not bad, but weird."

"Does it hurt?"

She thought for a moment. "Maybe a little. Maybe it'll hurt more later. Right now, it just kinda feels like I've been buzzing chain lightning all over my skin. Can't concentrate on any one feeling."

Nathaniel tugged her down to kiss her. Their tongues tangled lazily. Bethany stroked a hand up and down his chest. When she pulled away, Bethany looked down at him with half-lidded eyes. "It was better than I expected," she said. "Thank you."

"What did you expect?"

Her mouth twisted into a half-smile. "I expected to feel more awkward. Like I wasn't doing things right."

He stroked her back. "You were perfect."

She chuckled. "No, but you made me feel perfect."

Nathaniel pulled her back down to curl against his chest. "Well, you know what they say about practice making perfect."

Bethany made a contented noise against his skin. "Can we practice again tomorrow, then?"

"Any time you want." He smiled into her hair. "Any time you want."