"Relax, don't freak out," she chided as her giggling rumbled in the thick, stuffy air.
Evelyn bit her lip more out of nervousness than giddy excitement. She hadn't done anything like this. Since her mother sent her away to the prestigious Orlesian charm school at fifteen years old, she did her best to portray the perfect Trevelyan, to act as the most primp and proper courtier Ostwick could offer. Not once in her short nine months thus far did she contemplate ever crossing such temptingly sinful boundaries. Her closeted girlhood life in Ostwick did nothing to "educate" her on the more lurid facts of life, neither did the endless hours of learning history, rhetoric, mathematics, and the delicate arts of domesticity help her find the confidence in undertaking such a new and breathtaking adventure. Evelyn closed her eyes and breathed, trying to still the thunderously beating heart in her chest.
"Evie, please!" Her friend – her bestest and only friend – Melisandre pouted in disapproval. They worked up to this had they not? All those late nights "studying" together in the school library, huddling over in a dark corner, tucked away in the forgotten section titled "Histories of Canticle Translations." Their repressed yet flighty laughter would fill the shadowy air as thumbs brushed against each other's skin, holding on to the calfskin page. For so long, Evie would catch herself staring more at Melisandre than at her books, and, not without a knowing smile, Melisandre would watch her in her fixated gaze. Her friend was of the senior class, redheaded, and born from an upstart mercantile family in Kirkwall. Many in the school would always sit in hushed whispers when the enigmatic and magnetizing girl pranced around the halls, inviting rumors in her wake. Evelyn recalled the blush that tinted her cheeks when Melisandre first invited her to a bit of "fun" playing hooky during school hours, when she first asked that she refer to her from then on as "Lisa," and when she first playfully teased her with the nickname "Evie."
Now, after months of fantasizing, of groping about between her thighs at night, of moaning Lisa's name to an empty room, Evie was about to finally know what those plump pink lips tasted like.
Lisa hovered over Evie with listless eyes and lips parted in a sumptuous sigh. From underneath her, the younger brunette squirmed more from fear. Though Lisa confessed she had not done anything like this either, somehow her eagerness contradicted that fact and made the more inexperienced girl tenser under her gaze. "Shh," she pursed her lips to quiet the quivering Evie. "I'll take care of you," her murmurs were reassuring, and for a second Evie felt herself floating on clouds. She closed her eyes, feeling her heart flutter as Lisa straddled her on the bed. In the darkness of her mind, she felt Lisa's feathery soft lips press against her moist, quivering ones. Evie opened her mouth just a little – enough to let in Lisa's hungering tongue.
Despite the redhead's more forward yearning, Lisa fumbled through the motions of kissing with tongue. She pushed down on Evie's lips as her tongue slithered around the younger girl's inner cheek. Evie tried to follow her, tried to mimic her every move, but her tongue remained frozen as Lisa navigated her with enthusiasm and voracity.
The younger Trevelyan was in utter shock, her mind numbed by both pleasure and enervating nervousness. All she could do was move her hands, to fist her fingers into Lisa's unruly curls. She tried hard to breathe through her nose as Lisa invaded the depths of her mouth, tongue almost reaching her throat. Evie moaned as the electrifying touch of a passionate and fiery kiss awakened a heat buried in her thighs. Without really thinking, she rolled her hips toward Lisa.
The motion surprised her friend, who abruptly withdrew from their passionate embrace. With a coy smile, Lisa licked the bottom of her lip and slowly caressed her way down to the garters holding together Evie's skirt. "Do you like it?"
Evie nodded without a word. Her eyes were milky in listless pleasure. She wanted her more than anything, to finally feel and unleash whatever she tried to hide in their waking hours. With Evie's consent in place, Lisa hastily unclasped the garters and pulled down her skirt. Her eyes were not at all focused on the motions of undressing or on taking in the suddenly exposed flesh of the young girl's lower half. Instead, she fixed her eyes on Evie's face, taking in the flustered and embarrassed pout like a delectable treat. Without a word or warning, Lisa shifted her body lower and kept her head between Evie's supple thighs. Clutching the roundness of her plump bottom, Lisa wedged her mouth deep in her middle, tasting and lapping with an insatiable thirst.
Evelyn felt the pleasure of sinful bliss every time Cullen went down on her and took her with his mouth. The lapping of his tongue against her pink ripened nub, his lips sucking in the honeyed wetness of her folds reminded her of those forbidden days in boarding school, when she learned something about herself that she has not admitted since. Looking down across her body, she could see his blond curls damp with sweat and the tip of his forehead buried in the depths between her thighs. For months now he had been studying her body. He felt, smelled, touched, and consumed her in unrestrained passion. Though she enjoyed any and every position with which he took her, Evelyn still found herself thinking back to Lisa when Cullen would pleasure her in this way. Instead of the rough, meaty hands that gripped the softness of her arse, she pictured lithe delicate fingers. The thought made her feel guilty. She had not wanted to disrespect the commander in this way. She loved him, and there was nothing like the feeling the ecstasy of his erect cock pounding into her depths. She simply reserved this one special treat for a girl lost in her past.
The Inquisitor bit her lip as Cullen lapped faster against her clit and sucked in the juices leaving her center. A moan fought against her suppression, and her eyes rolled back in delirium as an orgasm seized her body and made her muscles clench tighter. "Mh... C-...Cullen!" she fought hard to cry out his name, when in truth she was picturing someone else altogether in the darkness of her mind. Her hips bucked and legs spread wider in voracious satisfaction as his tongue penetrated deep into her opening.
With a sigh, she felt herself break the surface and emerge from her elated depths. A giggle rumbled from her lethargic frame as she watched Cullen withdraw his head from between her thighs with a self-satisfied smirk. The commander crawled from the other side of her bed, shifting his body to be on top of her once more. Once their eyes were level, Cullen reached in for a kiss, forcing his tongue in between her lips to let her taste the sweet delectable fruit of her sex. "I love you," he whispered when he parted the kiss and nuzzled her nose.
"Cullen," Evelyn moaned out his name as she was still rapt in the shock of her orgasm. "I... I love you too," she smiled wide as her eyes fluttered shut. She felt so tired, so ready for the floating heaven of sleeping in the bulk of his hard, taut arms. When he fell to her side, lying on his ribs to face her, Evelyn lost no time in huddling over and burying her face in the warmth of his muscled chest. Her nose grazed against the softness of his chest hair, light and fuzzy to her cheeks. She bit her lip, this time once more in nervousness than out of giddy excitement. For a long time now, she wanted to confess to Cullen the unbidden desire surging through her. Since leaving boarding school, she thought she could give up the sinful temptation of tasting other women and of her repressed desire to taste them for herself. But Cullen changed all that. He helped her accept parts of her she never knew, parts of her she never thought she could love. And in the throes of passion, she found herself once more ready to brave the trials of taboo. She knew deep down that he would understand and that he would guide her in accepting this part of her.
But hesitation seized her at the last moment. Her brows furrowed as she anxiously thought to the possibility that he would be disgusted. He would surely reject her, and why not? He was a pious man and always given to the rules imposed by society. Even if Cullen had no problem with it in general, surely he would be upset if not jealous that her mind has been wandering to the prospect of another lover. Her chest tightened in fear. Evelyn did her best to stifle whatever urge she had and bury herself deeper into the warmth of her commander.
"Evelyn, what's wrong?" Cullen threw a concerned glance over her huddled form. With soft and caring hands, he cupped her cheek and tilted her chin so that their eyes met once more. She loved the way he said her name and the way his sonorous voice melted in affectionate concern. Her insecurities melted all at once against the honeyed amber of his eyes.
"I-... Cullen I've been thinking," Evelyn shifted so she too lied down on her side and faced her lover with more determination. She could see his jaws clench in preparation for perhaps bitter or unwelcome news, but his eyes remained steadfastly alert and attentive. He was so sweet in that way. "There was... I used to..." the Inquisitor was at a loss for words. How could she explain this to him? A disappointed pout formed on her lips, beckoning him to comfort her in this hour of need.
"You can tell me anything," his titillating reassurance palliated whatever anxiety burned in her chest. With a smile, Evelyn found the courage to continue.
"When I was a girl – maybe about fifteen or so, I had a lover," she peered over to see his reaction. Cullen still looked attentive and unfazed. She found this encouraging. "But not just any lover. I had, well... she was also a friend."
He raised a brow at the sudden use of a feminine pronoun. "You had a lover who was... a woman?" Cullen repeated not out of shock or disgust but from the need to clarify and sift through the words she blurted out in nervousness. He caressed the small of her back to urge her to continue. All these kind and unwavering gestures almost made Evelyn melt.
Evelyn nodded her head in an uncharacteristic and girlish shyness. "Yes," her lips puckered bashfully. "I hadn't been with anyone before her, and I hadn't been with anyone since. Well, that is... until you of course."
Cullen watched her finish her sentence, mesmerized by the wistful look of her blue eyes. His fingers subconsciously twirled a loose, chestnut colored lock on her temple. The infatuated commander smiled at her hasty addition to the story. "Do you still have feelings for her?"
Evelyn's cheeks burned a ruby red at the question. "No," she blurted out rather quickly. Her eyes fell in her flustered state. It was a little too embarrassing to even admit to him that her interests were not at all romantic. They were baser and more prurient. "I just find myself thinking of women in that way lately." Like the sting of a crusted out bandage ripped right from of a wound, she admitted the truth.
"Lately?" he teased not without a loving smirk. Somehow, he still found her adorable. Cullen felt her shift her weight on the bed so she could pull away, but he immediately caught her by the waist and embraced her tighter. He was not about to let her escape this one. "How lately? As in just now?" Cullen's laughter made her chest flutter with a thousand wings, but it did not help the anxiety she was already feeling in this confession. He saw right through her somehow, and she found it both seductive and horrifying.
Evelyn let out an exasperated sigh before turning over to her other side. "Never mind, it's nothing." She turned away from him grumpy and feeling somewhat ridiculous for admitting these things aloud.
"Wait, wait!" Cullen still laughed but this time more apologetically. His hands tried to wrap themselves around her figure once more, gripping her with the firm hardness of his biceps as his nose nuzzled down the nape of her neck. "Please finish what you were saying," he whispered into her ear, nibbling on her lobe seductively as his fingers caressed the plumpness of her chest. She felt his callused fingertips brush against the stiffness of her nipples. A soft sigh escaped her lips, warmed by his yearning. It suddenly occurred to her that Cullen actually liked what he was hearing. "Is there a woman in particular plaguing your mind?" The question elicited a moan from her as she pressed her spine against the muscled wall of his torso. She felt his aroused cock push against the back of her thighs as he rolled his hips along the curve of her rump.
"Why?" Evelyn asked coyly as she spun around to face him once more. "Do you have one in mind?" That Cullen said nothing as he rolled on top of her and wedged himself between her thighs confirmed her suspicions. He was harder and larger than just moments before. Strangely enough, Evelyn did not feel at all jealous.
She wrapped her legs around Cullen's waist, letting him push slowly inside her wet opening. The feel of his length pushing against her clenched muscles made her shudder. Once he fully seated himself inside, she locked him in with the strength of her thighs. Cullen's hands pinned hers down above her head. Slowly, he rolled his hips forward once more, making her coil and writhe in agonizing pleasure from underneath him. "Who is this mystery girl?" she asked in a throaty gasp, her back arching to be closer to him.
Cullen lowered himself, his hands traveling back down to the side of her hips as he pinned her body harder against the bed. With a gruff whisper against her ear, he answered her question, "Not for me, for you." Upon finishing the sentence, he thrust inside her with brute and unrestrained force. Evelyn cried out as she clung to his sweat-laden body in feeling the pleasurable pain of his strength inside her. "I've seen you look at her," he whispered deliciously as his tongue brushed against the side of her ears. His confession finished, Cullen let go of all courtesy and constraints. A harsh, rigorous rhythm overtook his body as he pounded into her soft, moist depths. His lover gasped with neck arching as far back as she could. She felt her insides strain in electrifying pleasure against the force of his hardening cock.
Evelyn gulped nervously as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, letting him pound into her in a thunderous pace. She knew what he meant. She knew of whom he spoke. The Inquisitor thought she was being subtle. She thought no one was looking when, in the times she would return for relaxation and escape in the Skyhold courtyard, she would gaze with an unknown hunger at an alluring, fresh recruit. She was a younger woman, a Dalish elf whose graceful and acrobatic movements with her dual knives made the Inquisitor's thighs ache with unknown longing. Yet in all that time, Cullen was watching her all along, watching her and seeing through her without saying anything. Maker, he was exactly what she needed in life.
She pressed her cheek against the sweat-dampened curls falling on his temple. She moaned, whispering his name in elated heat as he pushed in farther to her core. The sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin made her tighten around his member. "Cullen!" His name sounded like a protest on her lips, but truly it was a delicious beckoning. She wanted more of him.
"Say her name," he demanded with a husky growl. Cullen lifted his head from the nape of her neck to press his nose against hers. He almost glowered, his face contorting with the pleasure of being so deep inside her, tearing against the barriers that barred his entrance. Cullen's pace was beyond measure. He slammed in and out of her in hot flashes, making Evelyn sing and cry as her body bounced against the force of his thrusts. As Evelyn felt his cock throb inside her, felt the beading of hot liquid erupt into her warmth, she pictured another scene entirely – a lithe and tawny little minx of an elf lying on her back, legs sprawled, and her nub as pink and ripe as peach, ready for her taking.
"Ellana!" Evelyn shouted her name in euphoric bliss as she felt Cullen release all of his seed inside of her. His hips convulsed and pounded slower yet stronger as he tried to pump as much of himself into her hot flesh. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades, squeezing his hips between her thighs as if she was afraid he would fly away and wrench her orgasm from her.
"Ellana Lavellan," she repeated in between panting breaths. Cullen roared out in pleasure, cumming as he felt her muscles tighten in white-hot pleasure around him. He gasped for air before falling like dead weight on her body, his skin sticking to hers as they bathed in each other's glistening sweat.
It was strange. They never made love like that before. Somehow, without reaching into the farthest corners of Thedas, Evelyn found a man who not only took pleasure in the sheer act of pleasing her, but in the act of playing out her fantasies. She felt like a prized possession, worshipped and adored by this lustful yet outwardly awkward warrior. Evelyn ran a finger down the back of his head, twirling the blond curls in the darkness of her room. Though Cullen's eyes were closed, he was still breathing heavily and panting from the rigors of uncontrolled fucking. "I will have to make the arrangements," Cullen said with a sly grin as his face pressed against her collarbone. Evelyn gasped, uncertain of what she had just unleashed.