This is your last chance. If Mature (M) rated sexual content is not your thing, please SKIP this chapter and head directly to chapter THREE, where we continue the story in the morning light of semi-decency.
At the Border (and In-Between)
II
Alistair watched his own hands, and the slow reveal of skin as he removed the shorts and smallclothes from under the massive top she still wore. Alistair felt shakier than he'd planned, but the soft gasp that came with rare air contact focused him back into control.
He flicked his eyes up to hers, seeing a small light behind her heavily lidded orbs. She leaned back on her elbows, mesmerized by his steadiness, and it gave him incentive to take his time.
He wouldn't neglect her precious legs again. Or take her hips, her stomach, all the way to the tip of her ears, for granted. He learned this new body with thorough, explorative pets. Alistair steadily applied pressure, massaging into her wherever he touched until her head fell back on her shoulders and her back arched for him. He loved that little arc. He happily raced fingers down her spine until she shivered. At another time he might've yanked her to the table's edge, shed his trousers unceremoniously and buried himself where he knew he belonged. Instead, he gently cradled her hips in his grip and led her close. Slowly, sweetly, keeping her gaze when she could manage.
Alistair ran a hand over the front of their shirt, against her sternum, and gently pushed her to lay back. Her eyes darkened headily when she complied. Once submitted, she took little guidance. A delicate brush of three fingers under her calf coaxed one of her legs to his shoulder where he wanted, and he trailed his lips inside her knee.
Such a small little place, and a light little kiss, and yet, he watched the effects ripple out from her chest as she sighed pleasantly. As his next kiss grew just a little higher, he found he'd already taken control of her breathing, which seemed to stop altogether for the second or two his lips touched her skin.
Her other leg hitched itself against him and he felt himself being pulled closer. It was hard to resist. He would willingly fall into her if he weren't so set on making things better for her.
The lower hem of his shirt rode up over her thighs, her sex peeking out at him whenever he dared let his eyes wander between kisses. It caused an immediate strain in his pants. But this wasn't their first time, and he was now far from being a virgin.
He began pushing the linen up, over narrow stomach and nearly flat chest, and she raised her arms for him. When she lay back, she seemed less lost, her eyes sharp again, and he realized she was nervous.
They both knew she looked different. Maybe he did, as well. He kept his rough hands petting her now naked form, afraid she'd interpret any lull as disinterest. He needed her to be comfortable with him, needed to give them time to recognize each other.
He found the scars on her he remembered most; the arrows she had taken in the Tower of Ishal the night they met. The night he lost Duncan, and nearly lost her, before he'd even known what she'd come to mean to him.
He let her leg fall from his shoulder, and carefully leaned over her to press kisses to the scar tissue, feeling the comfort of her fingers clutching him close by his scalp. He lifted her off the table and hugged her to him for a brief moment, needing to feel her nude body against his bare chest before he continued.
He planted warm kisses down her front, relishing the taste of earth and wind on her flesh. He was nearly as excited as she when his mouth finally found the apex of her thighs, taking less time to tease her than he might have on a different day. Now he needed her to feel lost, and the sudden gasp of surprise and delight rewarded his focus. Alistair wrestled the chair behind him with his foot to give himself a better position, then crossed a muscled arm across her lower abdomen. He held her firmly in place as his tongue wriggled its way between her folds to lonely depths. Immediately she bucked into his forearm, and gripped his wrist for sanity.
Both arms now keeping her thoroughly secured, pressed harder with his tongue, slipping it along the edges of her waiting core. Prodding, poking, and teasing at the entrance until her uneven breath morphed to pants.
Such soft coos and whimpers she gave each time he touched her. She always seemed so delicate at first... until they were an hour in and a sweaty mess, but oh, how he loved undoing her to that point.
She whined again, as he flattened his tongue deep into her flesh and dragged it from bottom, to top, pausing to swirl around her little bud.
"Oh Gods, Alistair..."
Heat pooled in his groin at the desperate sound in her feminine voice. It was the kind of noise he wanted to make her repeat over and over until she was shouting it.
With renewed vigor, he all but latched his firm lips around sensitive nerves, delighting in how he could make her mewl with every swipe of his tongue. Her tiny frame struggled helplessly under the pleasure, but it was easier than usual to overpower her. He effortlessly commanded her body into place, sliding both hands now to her hips and ass so he could literally pull her onto his mouth. His lips on her clit were replaced by the bump of his nose as his mouth moved on to assault her from inside.
Her lips finally parted as strangled cries broke free in time with his tongue as it thrust into her with purpose. He fought another swell of emotion. Frail or not, this was familiar. Her scent, her taste, as familiar as breathing, was like finding his way home. He grew ten years younger, boldly daring her to cry out loud enough for the whole camp to hear, and learn she was his.
Now he drank from her greedily, knowing she was his, but it did nothing to stifle the potency of pride he got from pleasuring her so.
"Alistair...!" She gasped his name as his tongue pressed wider inside her, spreading her open a little further for his devouring mouth. With a short growl he buried his face into her mercilessly, forcing the air out of her. He smirked into her flesh, vaguely recalling a conversation in which he claimed to be raised by dogs. It was before she'd become... his chew toy.
"Alistair, Love!" She cried out again as a large finger probed at her alongside his tongue. He hooked his finger within her, knowing now just where and how much pressure to apply as he worked his lips and tongue against her. Her breathing grew rampant, and he eased his finger in and out a little harder. Usually he raced into adding the next finger, knowing her small elven body needed the warm up to take him completely, but he took his time, relishing in every drawn out, shaking rasp that came with his touch.
Alistair watched her chest heave, he felt her thighs shake, and he deemed his effort well worth it. She was so beautiful like this. So raw and true, a realness only he shared with her.
He moaned into her as one of her feet determinedly snuck its way to the front of his pants to rub in retribution at his stiff, if trapped, groin. It felt wonderful, and yet too terribly distracting all at once. He caught her ankle, and she whimpered as he then pushed her legs further apart and renewed his attack to the rise of fresh moans.
"Damn it, woman," he murmured into her as his cock throbbed for more attention.
"Alistair, I want you..!" Her anxious growl caused a gratified murr in his chest.
"You can have me when I'm done."
He finally added a second finger. He felt his pulse through his lap at how tightly her body clung around his battleworn digits. It still did not equal to his girth, but would make his entrance easier for her.
She wantonly let her breathing shallow, unafraid in their deep isolation of who could possibly hear them. Out here in the uncharted border wilds, they were just another couple of animals rutting.
Her hips began to quake, and she rocked herself mindlessly against him. When she began to tug her own hair he knew he had her. Flexing his fingers and his tongue, he picked up the pace, began to spread them inside her, and returned his dexterous lips and tongue to her clit. It all paid off as she shattered only a minute after, too delirious with pleasure to complain about his stubbornness.
"Mmm, good woman," he praised as he stood to loom over her trembling body. His fingers still stroked her, but only from the outside. He hoped to soothe her, and to silently signal he wasn't finished with her yet.
He drank in the sight of her, unabashedly, splayed as she was over the table, bare and basking. He felt his way back up her legs, over her stomach and chest. A small quirk of a smirk found its way to the edge of his lips when he caught her wild eyes staring at the flexing muscle of pecs and shoulders that moved with each rub. He gave her a few moments like that, until she descended into a languid purr.
Alistair began undoing his belt buckle and her eyes went wide again in excitement. He resisted the need to move faster, and instead stripped the rest of the way in calculated motions. He could nearly feel her stare as much as her hands, raking over his stomach and thighs, and everywhere in between, her small lips slightly parted, whether she were aware or not.
The removal of friction against his cock urged him forward, simultaneous relieved and longing for more. Alistair slid his hands and arms up his wife's sides to her back, then hoisted her up against him. Dainty legs hooked behind him, and once she felt secure, he lifted her with him and took her to the bed.
He grunted unintentionally as his tip poked against the back of her thigh and rear along the way, trying to ignore the pleasant sensation of leaving dew drops behind.
"Maker," he finally muttered as he set her on the bed. He quickly followed after, and smiled as her arms instantly sought places to hold him as he leaned over her.
His "plan" deteriorated further with every moment. As they drew closer, he prepared to surrender himself to whatever would happened when he could no longer think.
She looked almost too small, huddled under him. But every time he found her eyes again she looked all the wild beauty he'd fallen in love with, and he always fell again. He kept his attention on that heady gaze as he gently parted her open with a careful hand, and pressed himself against her.
He always wondered if the weight of him against her small core concerned her. In all their years, he still felt a pang of concern at the beginning of each encounter. Their size difference had made their first time... achingly slow. And now he became especially afraid to hurt her.
But at the mere contact with her opening she arched for him, a delicious, thrilled gasp tore from her throat, and he didn't have it in him to let such a perfect moment pass. He angled himself, and slipped just the round head inside until her spine nearly lit up for him.
"Oh Gods, fuck!"
The precious sound of his fellow Warden cursing in pleasure made his sensitive tip throb within her. It had been so long, and he could always remember how she felt. Yet, the temperature seemed so much hotter than he'd recalled. Being inside her body had always been a tight, gasping hug. But the burning heat nearly suffocated now.
"Are you alright?" His hips yearned for motion, his chest ached for air, but he had to ask.
"I will be once you get where you belong." She gave another strangled moan as her body began to give way for him, and with slow, shallow motions, he began to sink deeper.
The sensation sent his head spinning. History and Future both melted away to this moment, and the joining of their bodies. As always, he began to sense himself running out of room before he were fully sheathed inside, and he wrapped a large hand along the outside of one of her thighs to tug her onto him the last inch. She cried out, gasping for air at the fullness, and he quickly committed it to memory as one of the single most erotic moments of their time together.
He held her there, feeling her insides choke and flex around his aching cock, watching her nearly dissolve into whimpers beneath him while her fingers sloppily clawed at him for purchase.
"Love." He lean up just enough to get a hand to her cheek to guide her back to him. "You're mine. I'm right here. And you belong to me."
Refocused, if hazy with heat, she nodded, and turned to capture his thumb between her lips.
It was then he carefully drew himself halfway from her and slid back in.
He started slow. He took his time to see how every inch of flesh-friction between them sent shockwaves through her body. As snug a fit as they were, every little shift in motion reflected in the arc of her form and the part of her lips. Words failed him as his senses took over. He felt her squeeze him, was mesmerized by the visual of himself disappearing inside her at their loins, and overwhelmed by the deliciously sexy sound of her wordless voice.
With a mangled moan he spread his palm over her stomach, holding her down as he drove himself inside her again. If he pressed just deep enough into her body, he could feel her move around his prick each time it delved inside her, and oh how that always made him crazy.
As the tension in his stomach began to escalate, he barely caught himself before he lost control. A single second gave him enough time to remember she wasn't as sturdy and solid as she once was, and Alistair had to really work to not grip her too hard.
The fingers that usually groped, and dug into her flesh now only caressed. As he began to move harder, a little faster, it became more difficult to not hold her in place, and he slowed again.
"Alistair," she mewled, a small hand finding his cheek. "You're not going to break me..." Her lower lip twitched with her breath, and her legs found their way around him to make her point.
"You need to be careful..." he didn't cease his motions, however. He wasn't certain he could. She was slick now, and it narrowed his vision.
"What I need is to still be able to see your fingerprints next week when I miss you."
That did it. It was too much honesty at too vulnerable a time, and he snapped. Alistair scooped her up in his arms, and flipped her over.
She scrambled to her knees, but he curled his fingers over her shoulder and held her upperbody to the mattress. Any remaining worry melted with her pleased growl, and he immediately descended on her with renewed vigor. His cock slid between her hind cheeks in the movement and earned a shudder. His lips at the tip of her ear earned another. He extended his arm beneath her to rub at her waiting pussy from underneath, giving her no place to go but against him. Her sporadic breaths beat through her back and against his chest as he pant into her ear.
He couldn't resist longer than that, however, and hungrily leaned back to guide himself into her gripping heat.
"Mmm, that's it..!" She crowed, clutching the blankets, and he braced her in place with a hand on her shoulder and one on her hip.
His thought processes evaporated as he slipped deeper still, and he recklessly began invading her body with great ferocity. He couldn't think to check on her anymore, but the animalistic pleas and whimpers that tumbled endlessly from her lips goaded him on.
He was only mildly aware of the wooden bedframe straining with them, its sound easily drowned out by their crashing bodies and rising voices.
"Oh Alistair, please...!"
He pitched his hips forward as he bent over her once more. The hand from her shoulder slid up under her neck, and he kept his palm there as his fingers stretched to the edge of her jaw and ear on the other side. He kept her face and head cradled that way as he continued ravishing her anew.
"What, my pet?" What is it you want?" He nearly growled into ear and she shuddered again, violently.
"Don't stop, Alistair please..." She lustily turned to take his thumb again, and this time sucked in earnest with a muffled whimper.
He knew now neither would last much longer, and withdrew his thumb with a reluctant popping sound. There was still something she needed.
He palmed her asscheeks in each of his hands, spread them, kneaded them, before he gripped them so rough she shouted into the mattress. He watched his trained fingers dig into her flesh, seeking muscle that would bruise for him just how she needed. He kept himself working in and out of her, now well-slicked and adjusted, and he kept his thrusts sharp, but his hands, he let wander...
He left her trails to map later. Prints on the front of her thighs, then the back. Into her hips, her shoulders. He squeezed harder than he would have normally dared, as each time she gave a resounding 'yes' of approval.
She began shaking again, and he felt it deep in her walls as they clung to him. He knew his own volume was getting away from him as well now, losing his own battle.
Just one more thing.
With ravenous hunger, he bit at the junction of her neck, and then sealed his lips fiercely to wound, tongue swirling. He held her in every way he could, in his arms, under his mouth, and took her over until she broke, crying his name and convulsing tightly around his dick.
Incredibly intense spasms started through her body around his base and shot up to tip, pulling and milking him beyond what should ever be considered fair, as he felt himself wrenched, involuntarily, over the edge with her.
He buried his feral growl of completion into her shoulder, twitching as he felt warmth course through him and into her.
For the next minute, neither moved. A heaving, recovering, tangled mess. When they did speak again, it was only a pathetic mewl when he finally withdrew himself and lay next to her. He gathered her up in his arms, and she cooed fitfully.
He checked the mark he'd left on her neck. It didn't look too painful, but hopefully would last a few days anyway.
Almost every part of him yearned for a nice long rest at her side. He still felt battle-weary, but satisfied, and the combination proved intoxicating. He watched her eyes flutter closed, but her small fingers played with his hand idly, and he wondered if she was fighting fatigue as much as he.
Alistair drawled a low hum of a melody they'd heard in a tavern somewhere in Orzammar. His Dwarven impersonation nearly as awful as his singing, but it always made her laugh. Now, even just the tune made her lips lift in a smile. For the thousandth time, he felt more happy than he felt he had any right being.
Ahem. Water anyone?