Trevelyan blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings as she gradually slipped out of her dream's grasp and back into tentative wakefulness.
Confusion clouded her senses as she realised there were no gentle rays of sunshine playing on her skin; no melodic bustle from outside, nothing to have caused her to wake- except…
…except the turgid throb of the erection nestled between her bare buttocks, the ragged, hot breath tickling her ear, and possibly the rough sensation of the calloused fingertips ghosting over her hard nipples.
Perplexed surprise gave way to giddy delight when she found the apex of her thighs already coated in slick. Relaxing into the strong embrace, she began rocking back against Cullen and felt his smile on her neck when he noticed her having awoken.
Reaching behind herself, she touched upon the sensitive patch of skin between his hipbones and groin, and he twitched against her backside. His smell engulfed them, mild notes of sleep, musk and fresh lust teasing her nose, and she relished the pleasant warmth of desire flowing through her yet-heavy limbs.
Manoeuvring lazily, she managed to turn around in his arms and found his lips in a light, playful kiss, a wordless morning greeting.
A sigh escaped her when his thumb disappeared between her legs, tracing a line through her wetness then left her, not without pressing against her pearl long enough to leave her craving more.
The heated glow of liquid amber in his eyes was almost strong enough to light up the room on its own when he brought his hand up and swiped the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.
As her tongue snuck out and she lapped up her own nectar, his smirk, smug and predatory, brought on a more insistent pull of arousal in her, and she reached down to grab what she knew could remedy her need.
To her surprise he caught her wrist, stopping her from touching him. In answer to her quizzical look, he motioned past her shoulder, and his grin widened when her mouth dropped open.
Turning back around, a smile began to play around her lips as she set eyes on the target Cullen had pointed towards.
A couple of arms' lengths away, His Highness King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden was lying on his back, his arms sprawled wide on either side, one leg above the covers. Still dead to the world around him, his expression was peaceful and his snore barely audible as his chest rose and fell gently.
Crawling over on all fours, sticking her bottom out for Cullen's benefit, Trevelyan made her way over to the man who, if things were to go as intended, wouldn't be dozing so quietly for much longer.
Careful not to shock him into a rough wake, she placed her legs on either side of Alistair's hips, not touching him yet. After some debate with herself on where to start, she decided to bring her lips down to the delicate spot just under his chin and sucked, causing him to turn his head and sigh gently.
Moving down, Trevelyan ran her fingers over his biceps, cupping the relaxed, yet bulky muscles in silent admiration before tracing his ribs, coaxing a soft exhale out of him.
Emboldened, she allowed her hair to drag over his skin as she moved, licking a warm, languid line across his chest, eliciting another drowsy sound. Eyeing up his delectably tiny, round nipples, she couldn't resist licking the flat nubs, teasing first one, then the other into stiffness.
A hushed moan, the unconscious movement of an arm, but still the man remained in the Fade's tight grip.
It took a quick suck, a blow of air and a nip of the teeth for him to finally stir- in more ways than one.
Alistair's head rolled from side to side, his lids fluttered and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before opening his eyes, slowly at first then wide when his first sight was that of Trevelyan smiling at him as she made her way down his body, making sure her nipples were trailing down his skin as she moved.
Understanding only seemed to set in when he looked to his right at a smirking Cullen, then back down his own body, and it appeared he was now awake enough to enjoy the sight, grinning back at the woman going down on him.
Certain now to have his attention, she proceeded to finally dip her tongue into that round, inviting bellybutton- something she had wanted to do ever since that topless sparring session. She chuckled when she felt the taut stomach muscles tense, and did it again, and once more for good measure.
Alistair's hoarse groan preceded her next move as he was making his excitement known. Deciding not to keep the man waiting, she let the tip of her nose trace a path further down to where he smelled of spiced soap and intimacy.
Her insides contracted in hungry anticipation as she laid eyes on her prize. Looking back up at Alistair, she kept eye contact as she stuck her tongue out to travel along the half-hard length of him, humming her approval when he began swelling to full size.
A couple more long licks, and he was standing proudly at attention, rigidly erect and so very inviting.
This time she caught the eye of Cullen, who was sitting up watching them intently, before her hand closed around the base of Alistair's shaft, pulling down the soft skin to expose the top. Closing her lips around the bulbous head, she began sucking, making satisfyingly obscene noises as she moved up and down, and he began moaning softly.
Twisting her wrist as she continued to hollow her cheeks and run her tongue over his slit, she cupped his sac with her other hand, gently stroking, and his thighs began trembling.
It wasn't long before she felt a hand on her shoulders, begging her to stop just as she felt the drops of bitter fluid mixing with her saliva.
Sitting up, she straddled Alistair, her insides tingling with want. Looking at Cullen, she gasped to find him staring back at her, devouring both of them with dark, greedy eyes as he was slowly stroking himself.
Trevelyan bit her lip at the sight of his fingers running up and down his hard, thick cock, rocking slowly into his palm. There was a grace, a carnal beauty to his movements, to the heavy rise and fall of his powerful chest, the quivering of his muscular legs as he pleasured himself showing off just how much the thought of his woman riding another man aroused him.
None of them had spoken a single word, and they didn't need to, relying on the silent, sensuous communication of their bodies.
Alistair's eyes had narrowed and his lips were parted as Trevelyan held the base of his shaft while she sank down onto him, ever-so-slowly impaling herself on him.
All three of them groaned in tortured bliss, and she had to take a moment before she was able to begin moving.
When she did, she thought she'd break apart from the sensation. Rising up to sink back down, the sweet ache of the ironclad heat filling her was so good, felt so right, and she moaned, whimpered, howled obscenely as she fucked herself on him, slow and hard.
Barely able to keep her eyes open, she found Cullen's transfixed on where she was joined with the other man, where she was sliding up and down the thick shaft, both of them wet and glistening.
Alistair had grabbed hold of her hips, meeting her movements, thrusting up into her as he was making those little noises that nearly drove her mad with desire.
When his left hand moved towards her centre, she sighed, leaning back to support herself on his thighs. He cupped her first, softly caressing the delicately hairless mound before flicking against her pearl, just like she needed him to, and she wanted to come then, squirt out her juices and clench the king's own climax out of him.
It was Cullen, however, who found his release first, growlingloudly as he frantically thrust into his hand, streaks of creamy white seed spurting out from between his fingers.
Trevelyan couldn't be sure whether it was the way Cullen's voice broke when he came, the furrow of his brow, or perhaps the skilled press of Alistair's nimble fingers against her throbbing little nub. All she knew is that suddenly pleasure grabbed hold of her, grasping her entire body as she surrendered to a devastating, blinding climax.
Heat was first to envelop her, the flush creeping up her skin. Then she felt her body being gripped like a vice as a violent surge of pleasure tore through her, and she moaned desperately, wantonly, from deep in her throat, bucking and shaking wildly. Only when conscious thought found her again did she slump onto Alistair's chest.
Still breathing heavily, she looked up into his eyes with warm affection as she whispered the first words between them.
"Come for me, Alistair."
Without a second's hesitation he obliged. She yelped in surprise as he flipped her over, threw her legs over his shoulders, braced himself on his forearms and began pounding, hammering into her, so hard that the heavy bed started shaking.
Clinging on to his shoulders, she couldn't help the high-pitched little mewls that escaped her every time he rammed inside her, panting hard and grunting with the effort. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, and she could tell he was close when, impossibly, his speed picked up, his movements becoming ragged and frantic.
The deep plunges into her still-sensitive depths coaxed another, smaller peak out of her, and that was when Alistair finally joined her, just about managing to withdraw before his entire body went rigid and he uttered a string of guttural sounds as his jaw clenched with the force of his release.
Planting a series of tiny kisses on his forehead, Trevelyan stroked Alistair's hair as his body relaxed into hers. Rolling off her so as not to crush her with his weight, he held her hand and shot her a tired smile. There was that same sated, happy expression in his face as last night, along with something else- closure? She didn't dwell on the thought, returning the gentle caress of his fingers instead.
When she felt Cullen's arm across her chest, heavy and warm with the afterglow, she pulled the covers over the three of them and allowed her eyes to fall shut.
The opening notes of a duet of satisfied snores were the last sound she registeredbefore drifting off into another round of well-deserved sleep.
Denerim Palace had settled back into its regular routine. All through its busy halls servants were running errands, guards were making their rounds and nobles were getting ready to leave, sharing their stories about last night's banquet.
Cullen was standing in his and Trevelyan's guest room where they had gone to gather their belongings so they could embark on the return journey.
He was having a quiet chat with the king, who had come to bid his goodbyes, accompanied by two guards who were standing in the doorway, casually keeping an eye out for anything unusual. Cullen had laughed to himself, thinking that the soldiers might be trying to make up for their forced absence the previous night by making an extra effort today, never once leaving their protégé out of sight.
"So," Alistair said, "looks like you'll have good travelling weather."
Cullen nodded. "We shouldn't be too long."
There was an instant's hesitancy as Alistair seemed to be struggling for words, uncertainty in his eyes. He eventually spoke, softly, with the weight of sincerity in every syllable.
"We're still living in an unstable political climate here in Ferelden. Eamon has been nagging me for years now to take a woman to, you know, ensure succession to the throne," he paused as he saw first confusion, then comprehension in Cullen's expression. Swallowing, he continued with a strain in his voice, as if what he was about to say hurt him.
"I'm going to have to comply. Soon, that is." Almost a whisper, "Very soon."
Cullen nodded slowly, his chest suddenly tight with emotion. He knew Alistair wasn't bidding them farewell- they were going to meet again, though as friends, not lovers. Still, anguish lingered as he thought back to earlier, their last time to have shared a bed. He recognised that the man had to move on, and that he was now ready to do so. Cullen hoped their time together had perhaps helped him get this far, and the pang of sadness faded just a little at the thought.
Opening and closing his mouth, he struggled for a way of expressing all those notions. Sneaking a glance towards the guards, he decided he didn't care for what they might think. He pulled Alistair close, and the two men shared a long hug, warm, honest and full of gratitude.
When they broke apart, Alistair's smile was reminiscence, melancholy and hope all at once.
"She's a stunning woman. Promise me you'll take good care of her."
A lesser man might have felt a stab of jealousy, may have felt belittled, but Cullen only nodded. There was just a hint of their shared mischief in his voice when he responded.
"Certainly, Your Majesty."
A shaky exhale. "It's been…"
Alistair never finished the sentence because the door to the bath chambers opened and Trevelyan emerged, dressed in a high-bust, trumpet-sleeved burgundy dress with her hair neatly pinned up. She noticed the two men waiting for her and crossed the short distance towards them, her skirts loosely flowing around her as she moved.
A second passed in silence as they took in her sight. Then, as had almost become habit, both spoke simultaneously, as if they'd somehow read each other's thoughts.
"You're beautiful."
She smiled.