Patience

Whenever Cassandra returned to Skyhold, she could barely wait to get Cullen alone. This time she'd been gone for three long weeks, and spent all of them missing him desperately.

And he was always very, very eager to see her after she'd been away.

But today, when she'd come home to find that he'd taken the trouble to have a bath prepared for her – sprinkled with rose petals, no less, which did make her smile – she supposed she could just stand to be delayed for another hour or so.

Just.

She was smiling still as she knocked on the heavy wooden door to Cullen's quarters – hers, too, since they'd been married, but in some ways she still liked to think of them as his. After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally swung open, and Cullen was standing there, resting one hand lightly on the frame. He'd taken his shirt off, and if she wasn't mistaken, tugged his trousers down at least an inch lower, just to make sure he had her attention.

"Hello," he said. "Did you enjoy your bath?"

"Immensely," she replied. "But I could think of a good reason to hurry back."

She kissed him swiftly, letting her momentum carry them both into the room. He chuckled when she kicked the door shut, slamming it behind them.

"Dare I make a small suggestion, Cassandra?"

"What?"

He gave her a teasing smile. "You might not like it."

She scowled. "Go on. The suspense is killing me."

"Don't hurry. Just this once."

He leaned in and kissed her slowly, keeping pace with his warm, gentle caresses. She let him keep going for a while before pulling back and giving him a stern look. "You were right. I do not like that suggestion." Knowing she would have sounded more convincing if she hadn't let him kiss her like that for quite so long.

The look he gave her made her legs unsteady. He murmured, "I think I'd like to try to change your mind."

He turned and pressed her hard up against the ladder leading to the upper floor, but kept his kisses slow and easy. A small part of her would have been happy to stay entwined with him like that forever, his strong arms around her, holding her against the rungs. But mostly she was thinking about all the things he was making her want to do next. "Mm. Bed. You. Now."

He gave her an exasperated look. "Very well. After you."

When he pulled himself up the ladder behind her, she turned and letg her robe slide off one bare shoulder. His eyes widened, and she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. "Come here," she said, making room for him on the bed.

He seated himself behind her and slipped her robe off her shoulders, letting it fall around her waist. But then he paused, and she couldn't suppress a sigh of impatience.

"So anxious," he said teasingly. "I just want to look you over for a moment. Were you injured?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Hmm," he said, unconvinced.

He touched her then, finally. She sighed as he began to massage her shoulders, tracing the curves of her neck. What he was doing felt amazing, but it wasn't what she most wanted from him, and he seemed to be going slower and slower with every second. "Cullen," she said after a moment, hoping he could hear the urgency in her voice.

"What? I'm on the bed, like you asked." His eyes creasing up at the corners, as they did when he laughed.

She tried to come up with an argument against that, but with all he was doing to her, she was having a hard time thinking clearly. As reluctant as she was to slow their pace even further, she found herself melting hopelessly into his touch.

His fingertips lingered over a bruise on her ribcage. He said, "You know you leave your left side exposed when you rush ahead."

"I do not," she said, twisting around to reach for him.

He laughed, gently turning her back. "Case in point." He held up her hand so she could see the darkened knuckles. "Have you been punching bears again?"

"No," she protested, unable to focus on putting more words together as he raised her hand and kissed each of her fingers in turn. The warmth of his lips and the light scrape of his stubble against her hand sent a shiver running through her. Only he could make the smallest gesture so utterly arousing.

With his other hand, he went back to massaging her shoulders. A sudden spasm of pain shot up her back, and she winced.

"Your sword arm," he murmured, following the muscle down her right shoulder blade. "I thought this was supposed to be a peaceful mission."

"It would have been, if the others had cooperated," she grumbled.

He kneaded her neck, pausing over each individual knot to deal with it firmly. It hurt, but in a good way. "You were reading,'" he said. "Something that vexed you."

She made a disgusted noise. "The records of the Chantry near Adamant. They were in an appalling state."

"There's no need to take it personally," he said, sounding amused.

She started to reply, but yelped as his fingertips probed a tight spot along the left side of her back. He tutted. "You were writing."

"To you," she said indignantly.

"Don't worry. I haven't forgotten." He let out a low chuckle. "Such demands you made of me."

"Oh?"

"After I just finished putting everything on my desk back in order…"

"That took you three weeks?"

"After what we did on it last time, yes."

"You were hardly complaining then."

"Indeed not." He eased off the pressure on her back, rubbing the tender spot in concentric circles. "How does that feel? Better?"

"Yes," she admitted begrudgingly.

Unexpectedly, he leaned forward and pressed his hands to the sides of her breasts, squeezing them together. She let out a moan, both to feel the release of tension she hadn't known was there, as well as the hot flood of desire shooting through her. "More?" he asked.

"Yes," she gasped.

"Then relax," he said. "You're tensing up again."

She forced herself to take a few deep, shaky breaths. He resumed his ministrations, increasing the pressure whenever her moans told him that he'd located a particularly sensitive area. "You're so tight that you're going to feel this for a while," he said. "And you'll be sore tomorrow morning."

"Actually, I was counting on that," she said. By the hitch in his breathing, she knew she'd gained the upper hand. "I missed you so much. Let me give you anything you want."

"Then lie down."

She did, immediately. He so rarely commanded her to do anything, and it drove her wild for him when he did. But instead of climbing on top as she'd expected, he knelt down by the side of the bed and took her legs over his shoulders. "Comfortable?" he asked, with a smile that made her go weak.

"Oh," was all she managed, hearing her voice shake on that one syllable. "Oh, Cullen – "

Even knowing what was coming next, she was shocked at how loudly she cried out when he touched his mouth to her. "This is what I want," he murmured. "You, like this. Just for me."

But it was only a touch, and in the next moment, it was gone. Confused, she started to get up when he nuzzled her again, putting his hands on her hips to steady her as he drew out her increasingly layered pleasure.

"I thought of you so much when you were away," he murmured. "Every morning. Every night. I thought of every single thing I would do to you, to make you feel how much I missed you. I want to make you ache for me, as I have ached for you." He touched her lightly. "Can you be patient, Cassandra?"

"No," she gasped.

"I can." One more light touch and he pulled away.

She would have smacked him for that, if she could reach him.

But then a second later he was lapping at her with his tongue, alternating long, slow swirls with even longer pauses, and she couldn't feel anything towards him but gratitude.

Taking things slow did not come easily to her. Cullen was better at that. More than that, he knew her better than she knew herself. He was attuned to what she needed, and always determined to give it to her.

But even for him, this was unusually, astonishingly, ecstatically conscientious.

Just when she was close, he lowered her legs down onto the bed. She whimpered at the loss of contact, even when he started trailing kisses down her thighs. "More, Cassandra?" he asked again, huskily.

She hadn't thought it possible, but hearing him say her name like that made her melt even more. "Oh, yes."

He circled her opening with his fingertip, stopping just shy of her entrance. While he continued tracing her slick folds, he bit her inner thigh. She shuddered. "Let me feel you in me, Cullen. Please."

At that, he slipped one finger inside her easily, only to withdraw it a second later. She let out an involuntary whine.

"Patience, Cassandra."

"Cullen –"

"Patience." He repeated the gesture, dipping just inside before pulling back again, over and over until she was nearly out of her mind with longing. To have gone from her earlier heights back to such tortuously slow teasing was almost more than she could bear.

"It's one of the fruits of the spirit," he went on, conversationally. "In the Chant. You know the verse." He covered her with his mouth again, every word reverberating against her core. "Love. Joy. Peace."

He curled his fingers inside her, a single slow stroke that almost, almost sent her over the edge. "Patience." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Kindness, goodness, faithfulness. Gentleness and – "

One more torturous, electrifying sweep of his tongue and she arched her back and gasped, right up against her breaking point. "Self-control," he murmured with satisfaction. "But I think I've come to the end of mine."

He slipped out of his trousers, kicking them off onto the floor. Then he was on his knees, straddling her. He raised one hand to touch her cheek, and she nearly sobbed from the tenderness of the gesture. With a last vestige of control, she looked straight into his eyes, drinking in the adoration she saw there. He was a gift to her, wholly undeserved. Grace. She understood that now, as she never had before. "I love you, Cullen," she said. "Make me yours."

"You are," he whispered. "And you always will be. I love you, too."

With that, he kissed her once more, his lips telling her more than his words ever could. She cried out into his mouth when he entered her, and again, and again, wanting some part of herself to be as deeply inside him as he was in her. This was what she'd desired, more than anything – to feel him move with her as one, her pleasure shot through with his, like light passing through light.

He held on to her tightly the whole time, calling out her name. Afterwards, she regained her senses little by little, tremulously, in his embrace. It took her a moment to realize he was trembling too, not just the hand he was running through her hair but his entire body, equally high on the feeling of pure unity, beautiful completion.

"Was that worth waiting for?" he murmured.

"You always are," she said, and the smile on his face was better than anything else. Leaning back against his chest, she couldn't help but smile too, listening to his slowing heartbeat, keeping time with her own.

A/N: Cullen references Galatians 5:22. Deliciously.

This is for AgapeErosPhilia, with philia!

And for you, for reading. Many thanks!