Warning: Rated M for a reason

A few elves gathered around to listen to Sarel's story. Granted, I hadn't really asked him to do it, but he seemed to have thought he needed to educate those who were brought up in the city. I shared a glance with Zevran, who had sat on the ground by my legs instead of on the bench, and he rolled his eyes in agreement. However, the stories he told were vivid, and the campfire was warm against the cool, autumn wind. Before I knew it, Dalish elves' suspicious looks grew into acknowledgment and knowing looks in my direction. I didn't know what they were getting at until I felt the brush of silky hair on my thigh and entwined in my fingers. Looking down, I found Zevran laying his head in my lap. Was that a purr I felt, vibrating the vocal cords of his throat? Smiling, I continued running my fingers through his hair, the story fading into the background as I attuned my hearing to the happy sounds the elf beneath my fingers was making. When I finally ventured further into brushing against his neck, he made a little gasp. The power I held was amusing over the man who'd, just a few minutes ago, thought I was falling into his trap of seduction. I couldn't suppress the urge to caress his lips, which brought the most delightful reaction. His head turned, his forehead now pressing into my thigh, eyelashes fluttering, signaling their close. He moaned, flicking his tongue across my palm that had me closing my eyes as well.

Someone cleared their throat, and I realized that Sarel had stopped his storytelling. For how long, I didn't know. Terrified, and slightly humiliated, I opened my eyes again to see an audience of elves directing their attention toward me and Zevran. The color of the tomato couldn't even begin to describe how red I felt my cheeks getting. A few elven girls started giggling, not helping the burning in my cheeks go away. Zevran, however, was smirking, though it softened into a smile when his eyes met mine again.

"I didn't know the story of werewolves was so romantic. If I'd known beforehand, maybe Cammen and Gheyna would have already been together," Sarel said, an amused look in his eyes.

"I think I will take my Grey Warden away from the fire. Don't stop on my account, I just need to cool her off," Zevran stood, politely helping me up and guiding me away from the awkwardness of the circle of Dalish elves. "Or rather, try and heat you up even more." he whispered in my ear as we neared our own encampment for the night. Everyone else was still with the Dalish, as Zevran smoothly led me into his tent.

"Zevran, you know I-"

"Shh, my dear Grey Warden," he interrupted me with a finger to my lips. The look in his eyes said it was just to quiet me, but it quickly changed when he caressed my lips with his thumb. "Will you do that thing to my hair again?" he inquired, oddly enough, with a shy tone to it. I laughed gently, bringing us down on his bedroll to have his head positioned on my lap once again. His hair was so silky, and it was seemingly impossible to have it tangled. Purring could be felt along my thigh again and I laughed.

"Tsk tsk, you should know that nothing good comes of teasing me," At that, his head quickly turned, along with his body moving to the front of me rather than the left. Silk graced my thighs before my head went blank. His lips pressed against the cloth covering me, right over the nub.

"Zevra-! Nnn!" Blast the damnable Dalish leather armor, giving him such easy access. His fingers were rubbing circles into my thighs while also removing my boots. I moaned, my head snapping back and eyes closing when I felt his tongue press against me, and suddenly it wasn't the armor I had a problem with. Grasping at his hair, I'd meant to move him away, but ended up entwining my hand in his hair, pushing him against me unintentionally while brushing his neck as well. He let out that throaty purr, the vibration no longer an amusement, but a pleasure.

"Maker's breath!" I gasped out, and I wasn't even religious.

I could barely think, much less try and push him away before he'd successfully discarded my skirt and drew his lips away from the burning to sweep up the plain of my stomach. Growling at the sudden loss of contact, but knowing I shouldn't be encouraging, I tried guiding him back down, but he wouldn't budge.

"In time, my little minx, it will not be my lips that you crave," he replied to the silent plea, raising his head to give me a smoldering look. And with that, his fingers made their way into my smallclothes, erasing all protest from my mind. He had me arching and gasping with so much want in a matter of minutes. He removed his hand, earning a very disapproving look from me. However, all was not lost when, after having removed all of my clothing, he started removing his own armor. The straps and leather fell away to reveal beautiful swirling tattoos accentuating his chest, and also his back when he'd turned for a second. There weren't many, but the swirls had long lines, one disappearing down the lower piece of armor he had yet to remove. He removed his boots, but I dragged him back down onto the bedroll before he could remove the low leather piece. My lips found their way down every tattoo on his chest, reveling in the soft skin, but hardened muscle that had developed there. I finally reached the one that disappeared, and removed the leather and the last of his clothing. Low grunts and soft groans had already graced the air of the tent, but Zevran introduced a new sound when my mouth finally took him in. It was a low, guttural moan that seemed half strangled from his vocal cords. It sounded wild. I loved it. If I playfully licked the tip, he'd gasp and dig his nails into the sheets, and if I took him all in, he'd arch his back, dig his head into the pillow, and release that delicious sound.

Finally, just when I thought he'd come, he lifted my head from him.

"Ah, wherever did you learn that?" It was a rhetorical question, and I smiled at the compliment, "but I can't have you shaming me by letting me be pleasured first." I was about to correct him on that, but his lips pressed hard into mine. He quickly had me under him, entering me without a second thought or go ahead. I almost yelled in pleasure, pressing myself into him, trying to be as close as possible. He loved tormenting me. He would thrust into me fast, bringing me to the edge, then move slowly. Even the Dalish encampment, far from ours, could probably hear my screams of frustration and pleasure. Finally, after I'd lifted myself onto him, clenching myself around him several times, he let himself and me come in a rare harmony. We were both utterly spent, and he used the last of his strength to remove himself from me. He rested his head on my chest, his hair in tangles I didn't think possible, but the silky strands still tickling my breasts. I brushed my hand through the sexily unruly hair, and he shivered.

"Oh Maker, you are good at that. And many other things, I might add, though that in particular led me to the discovery of the others. Braid my hair for me in the morning, no?" he sighed sleepily. I smiled in the darkness that had come over our tent at the thought of him wanting me to stay until morning. It was a beautiful deception to trick myself into believing that it was under the pretenses of another emotion, but I held onto it nonetheless.

"Of course, Zevran. Now sleep," I yawned, brushing strands of his hair for one last time before drifting off to sleep.

~Author's Note~

And there you have it...my first and very awful lemon .' Lol, but Zevran is so amazingly smexy that I just had to try ^.^ agh...I feel so embarrassed now .' Maybe I should hide this where no one can ever find it *looks around shiftily* Lol, so please review and criticize (because this piece of writing definitely needs some criticizing .'). But maybe it's so awful because I wrote it in about an hour -.-'
Alas, until next time when I see you...if I see you...reading the next installment of my Toga Yagari/OC/Kaien Cross or LxOC story ^.^