(A/N: A big thank you to Stryder1103 and Sangosweetz for their help and inspiration.)
"Rose? Where's Master Harritt?" Cullen called to the maiden. Rose Trevelyan, dressed in a gown of shimmering gold silk and needless frills, half turned to greet him. The forge firelight mottled the room. Rose's skin seemed to gleamed golden in the warm light and her black-as-night hair that fell to her shoulders caused her skin to look even paler.
"He's stepped out, on an errand, and won't return for awhile," Rose moved toward him, gingerly closing the gap between them, "Is that all you have come here for, Commander?" Her hands traced his arms, marveling at his wondrous biceps. At her touch Cullen's heart sped up, sending blood pounding to foreign rhythm unlike anything he had ever experienced. He could see as plain as day that she wanted him, and meant to have him, right then and there. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he decided to play along.
"I suppose my sword does need a bit of polish..."
"And what kind of sword do you posses, Commander? Perhaps it is it a broad sword," Rose swiped her thumb over the width of him. "Or a long sword in your possession." She teased, her voice low and tantalizing, as her hand moved up his hardening length with feather-light touches. "Oh no, even bigger..." Her hands gripped his now enormous rock-like structure protruding from his breeches. "Oh my, a greatsword!"
The teasing alone had set his skin ablaze, searing him all the way down to his toes. Like a whirlwind, he spun her around, lifting her chin with his thumb and forefinger to meet his fiery amber-gold gaze.
"My dear sweet Herald, ever since you fell out of the heavens I have lain awake in my bed chambers, aching for you. My love for you knows no bounds... and neither does my lust. Will you let me make you mine, in every sense of the word?"
Rose Trevelyan trembled, her mind consumed by the raw need that was threatening to rage out of control. He'd barely even touched her, and yet she was already putty in his hands. "Oh, yes, my Commander! Yes, please!"
His mouth came crashing down, like waves crashing upon a soft sandy shore. His heart thundered to the hoofbeats of a hundred-no- a thousand druffalo. After a moment, he pulled away just enough to whisper, low and husky, "I'm going to rip off that delectable dress of yours and make love to you until you lack the energy for standing." His lips brushed over hers gently as he talked, stroking the tender skin at the nape of her neck. "Let my famished mouth feast on thy sweet, sweet flesh!" He attacked her throat, open mouthed, laving her with his tongue. She moaned, arching into his touch, and wondered if this was the same man who trained battle-hardened soldiers and gave reports all day. His hair was silky beneath her hands, curling around her delicate fingers.
Without hesitation, he reached for a dagger on a nearby table and made short work of her bodice. She stood still, trembling beneath his fingers- not out of fear- but out of want. The resounding rip of the expensive dress filled the room. She stood before him, with shoulders back and chin held high- bold... proud... spectacularly and irrefutably naked! The dress fell away, pooling on the floor at her feet. He grinned, wide and hungry, at the sight he beheld. His eyes stayed glued to her body as if she were a spirit from the fade, about to dissipate into thin air at any moment. Ruby red nipples, half as long as her little finger, peaked on plump voluptuous full breasts. His unyielding gaze trailed down her soft, white belly to her black nest of maidenhair perched atop of curved, pale thighs. Rose's wonderfully intoxicating scent had his pride and joy grotesquely enlarged- hard against his breeches, begging to be released. Cupping her glorious milk-biscuits, his thumbs circled her nipples, slowly awakening them from their slumber. Cullen's golden eyes widened and his eyebrows arched as he murmured, "Rose Dellucia Trevelyan... how I shall fuck you, without restrain. How all the people at Skyhold will know my name from your lips."
"Naughty words for a Templar..." she laughed, watching him through her lashes.
His words were all but a purr, "Ha, well, I don't know if you noticed, but I am a Templar no longer."
With a practiced flick of his fingers, the ex-templar shed his armor, his mantle, and all his outer layers. His manhood, so magnificent it would make the Maker weep in envy, stood proudly to his navel. Rose stared, not so subtly, at his deep-red, rampant member- which was practically begging for surcease- before rising to meet his eyes with a devilish gleam. Oh, how the sight of his plumb-headed treat made her knees weak! Her hands trailed lazily from her commander's broad shoulders to his abs, which appeared to be chiseled by the Maker himself, sliding down to a stop atop of his taut ass. She kneaded him as if two loaves of bread- so warm and soft but firm at the same time.
Wrapping his strong arms around her, he lifted her up and bore her to the anvil, muttering all the while. "Oh, my lovely Rose, must you drive me so mad?!" She closed her eyes as he feasted on her throbbing pebble-hard nipples, licking her there roughly as if he intend to devour her like a sweetmeat. She lay upon the freezing iron, the anvil the perfect length for her body, with her luxurious bosom heaving and spread eagle- a holy sacrifice for her lover's salvation.
"C-Cullen!" She moaned, writhing. Instantly her breasts swelled and her nipples hardened even more, although she couldn't believe that was humanly possible. Rose opened her legs like a blooming flower, exposing her silky petals- not unlike early morning dew on a blossoming Lilly.
Gasping, the Herald arched up against him as he prodded her with his harder-than-steel mansword, sliding inch by inch until sheathed to the hilt in her womanly scabbard. Rose watched with bated breath as he thrust again into her hot, wet paradise. Time and time again he impaled her lover with his weapon, reveling in the nectar coating his manhood. The cold iron and fingers dug into her oh-so-heavenly flesh bruised her bottom, but not unpleasantly. Cullen stoked her flames, causing heat to rise into a searing wildfire.
"Oh sweet Maker, yes!" Rose cried out, her voice piercing the heavens, as she came. Heat blazed from her center, washing through her limbs, and flew out her fingertips. She felt soft at her middle, warm liquid in his hands, but he did not let up his assault. Again and again, with wanton abandon, he stabbed her with his pleasure stick . The commander pounded her into the anvil- a piece of medal being reshaped under his sturdy sex-hammer and her intense heat.
Rose was his light and his darkness, saint and sinner, salvation and damnation, Andraste and desire demon- his everything! Her commander roared in the explosion of ecstasy, emptying his loins into her furnace with a flurry of exquisite jerks.
He slumped on top of her, senseless and limp, as she panted in his ear, "My commander in the sheets... will we ever make it to a proper bed?"
"All in due time, my little Rosebud. All in due time."
"This is utterly... I don't have the words to describe what I just read," Cullen stammered, flabbergasted, as he dropped the book on the table with a thud.
Varric smirked, retrieving the rejected book. "That good, huh?"
"No!" the Commander nearly yelled, drawing the attention of several people before dropping his voice to a whisper, "This is absolutely distasteful, almost slander. Terribly scandalous."
"Curly..."
"I'm sorry, but you are going to have to revise this," Cullen paced the main hall, his hands gesturing wildly, "And edit that part out... and any others like it involving me!"
"I can't do that," Varric shrugged, giving a cocky wink and confident smile. The fact that Varric was un-distressed about his distress distressed Cullen all the more.
The commander whirled on him, "And why not?!"
Two young noble women approached, tittering all the while among themselves. "Varric! I love your work! Will you sign our book?"
He chuckled, shooting Cullen a sly smirk, "Certainly."
The ex-templar watched in horror as Varric signed the very book that had offended him. The two women all the while scanned him in an appraising head-to-toe gaze, like they knew what he looked like under all his armor. Cullen shivered at the thought. When he was done signing they finally skipped off to who knows where, giggling.
"Uh, the book was published yesterday." The dwarf scratched his stubbly chin, the conversation fading to awkward silence as Cullen stood wide-eyed and mortified.
Rose, with Varric's excuse for a book clutched to her side, burst into the main hall, hastily striding to Cullen. Grabbing his hand, Rose gently tugged him back toward the door.
"Inquisitor? Where are we going?" He dared to ask.
"To the smithy," she paused, a smile dangling at the corner of her lips, "We have a book to act out."