A/N: WOW! Let me just say that again 'WOW!' Over a thousand hits on Ao3, and almost 400 views on FFNet and it's only been up for 12 days! And all these wonderful Faves, Follows, Subscription, Bookmarks & Kudos! -*melts*- You people are all just so lovely (and a little crazy) and I simply adore you all!
So~ apologies about this taking so long. When I posted 'Admitting to a Taste' I genuinely did think I was done with this... but the way it ended was just such an epic cock-tease and I just I couldn't do that to you all. Extending it and making sure it was still up to the quality of the first half took and bit of doing, but I hope you'll all find it worth the wait. (Really this is starting to feel like a trend with my stories... I get to the sex and it's like wading through molasses to get it right.) However that also means that this chapter is a damn sight longer than I originally intend. So here's a quick 'Heads up!' make sure you have some time (and possibly a spare set of underwear) before settling in for the read.
As always, my undying fealty and love to my beautiful Beta readers – Tuon, MRTL85 & Enchantm3nt (Yup, I'm still that bad) – Without you, no one would ever read my stuff cause they wouldn't be able to understand any of it. (:P)
WARNING - THE KINK: So rather than there being a huge list of kinky acts for this story I'm focusing on a single main kink; qunari anatomy. We have all these lovely different race/species in Thedas and yet, for the most part, we all treat them like it's no different than making love to a human... Well that just won't do here. The qunari are very visually different and there was just no way I was letting this opportunity pass me up, so I'm RUNNING with it. That being said if that sort of thing freaks you out... *shrugs* You've been warned. (Also please note that, yes, I am aware that some of my changes are blatantly against cannon -aka: the horns- so please don't feel the need to point that one out.)
Alright, so I've babbled on enough! See you on the other side!
Chapter 2:
Acting On An Inclination
"Last chance, Dorian. You can leave now, no hard feelings, no questions asked, but if you stay..." The Bull rumbled above him. "I don't want to hear any whining about 'mistakes' and 'poor judgment' come morning."
Maker's breath! Dorian thought. Didn't the idiot ever shut up? Here he was: uninhibited, helpless, -completely at the qunari's mercy!- and yet for some unfathomable reason, The Bull, was still talking. Offering him -after all his talk of 'conquering'- a way out. Never mind that he'd already pinned the mage to his bed. Never mind, could surely feel Dorian's eager willingness pressing up to greet him. Still, The Bull, acted like they weren't both of them already committed to the proceedings. It was hardly a moment's thought for Dorian to make the decision to forge on and see this through.
"I thought this was supposed to be a 'hostile invasion', not 'aggressive negotiations'." Dorian snarked, by way of an answer, trying to cover with sarcasm the way his heart started pounding as he crossed the point of no return. His cock stiffening further with the increased blood flow and to feel the press of The Bull's largess looming over him like it was; thrilling and terrifying all at once. Yet there remained very little actual contact between them; Dorian wanted more. "Are you ever planning to get on with the business of 'conquering' me, or are you content to just loom like this and watch me sober up." He baited.
"Well, we can't have you losing your only reason for being here, now can we?" The Bull, smirked indulging Dorian's lie as he lowered himself down to his forearms so that the Altus could really feel his weight over him while still -thoughtfully- providing enough support to keep the man from being crushed beneath his giant mass. Dorian's eyes grew dark and his breathing grew shallow; now he genuinely was at The Bull's mercy, pinned bellow his bulk, while one impossibly large hand worked its way under Dorian's head. Hard muscles pressed down on him causing Dorian's body to respond with unprecedented eagerness; he felt himself growing harder by the moment as he tried to press himself deeper in to his captor's hold.
"Sobriety right now would be unquestionably detrimental to th-Ah-mmmmnn-mrgph!" Without warning, those thick, incredibly strong fingers at the back of his head suddenly flexed and The Bull took a vicious, uncompromising grip on his hair. The sudden shock and sting caused the mage to gasp and cry out. The sound was given no chance to truly escape him, however, for the moment Dorian's lips parted to release it, The Bull pressed his advantage and sealed the mage's mouth with another blistering kiss; and if Dorian had thought the kiss they'd shared before had been searingly hot, it was nothing when compared to this. In fact, it became patently clear that the brute had merely been toying with him earlier.
This time, The Bull, held true to his taunting promises and invaded. His tongue unfurling and taking possession of Dorian's mouth in a way that the mage had never even dreamed possible. It was everywhere; licking and curling over the mage's lips, teeth, and tongue. Filling him, and moving in ways that were, simply put, inhuman.
He didn't know what to make of it. It was either obscene or… the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced.
When he felt it brush up against his throat, however, instinct took over and he tried to pull back; to free himself -somewhat- so that he might catch his breath and assess the situation. Only to discover there really was nowhere to go; nowhere to retreat to. The Iron Bull had him just where he wanted him and he'd left Dorian no possibility of escape.
.ox:~DTF~:xo.
The Bull felt a satisfied rumble grow in his chest at the mage's first feeble attempts to back him down.
Oh how he loved this part. That moment when his lovers first realized that this was not going to be like their usual inter-racial trysts.
Dwarf, human, elf: they were all of them pretty much the same, once you got them down to naked flesh. There were a few differences, sure. A few general trends amongst each race that held them separate and apart from each other; but on the whole put a blindfold on and keep the non-essential touching to a minimum, and you'd be hard pressed to accurately name your partner's race. The qunari, on the other hand, boor several key anatomical differences, and he wasn't just talking about the horns. Intimacy with one of his kind was a truly unique experience; something he was going to take immense pleasure in demonstrating to the 'oh-so-superior' Dorian this evening.
The tongue was always the first thing to get their attention. Long, broad and flatter than was considered normal by most folks; all qunari tongues were naturally capable of more dexterity than was the common average. Iron Bull had expanded on this difference; honing his skill to a level of mastery that drove his partners -men and women, alike- to utter distraction whenever he chose to put it to use.
Now, normally he'd save something as foreign as 'throat-licking' for later in the game; after he'd earned a partner's trust and they were more comfortable with each other. But not tonight; tonight he wanted Dorian uncomfortable. Wanted him off balance. From the moment the mage had stagger through the door, the Altus had been too placid; too accepting by far. If he wanted that from his partners, Bull, could get it from one of the stable boys any time he chose. What he wanted from Dorian was the firecracker he was out on the road; all fire and spit, full of arrogance and pride. He wanted the mage proud and fighting right up until he cracked and started begging. He wanted to feel the man break apart in his hands so that he might have the pleasure of putting him back together.
But if he was truly going to savor Dorian's submission, he needed to wake him up first. To shock him out of his drunken submissiveness and see him struggling and fighting for control first. When he gave the man a chance to breathe and was rewarded with a nasty bite on the lip, he knew he was well on his way.
.ox:~DTF~:xo.
When The Bull refused to back off, Dorian started to struggle; his hands coming up to claw and shove at the great uncivilized savage. His nails raking over that thick gray hide finding no purchase, and achieving nothing but the degradation of his manicure. He aimed for the most likely sensitive spots he could reach and still the great lummox persisted. When the oaf finally laid off – mostly due to a need for air, Dorian suspected, and nothing to do with his paltry attempts at stopping him – Dorian caught a hold of his retreating lip and bit it -hard- to make his displeasure known. Rather than putting the -primitive- savage off, however, this seemed to have been the insufferable monster's aim. For no sooner had he released said lip before a devastatingly disarming and charming (though Dorian would never admit as much) smile spread across the Bull's scarred face and he crowed with delight.
"There we go! That's the fire I was looking for. Come on, Pavus, put some heat into it!"
"I should have suspected a bloody great brute like yourself would need it rough." Dorian sneered back.
"Oh, I'm perfectly capable of enjoying it when it's soft, and sweet, and slow;" The Bull purred in his ear before grabbing hold of Dorian's left arm and pinning it to the bed above the mage's head, forcing a little grunt to escape him. "But let's be honest here, Dorian, that's not what you came to me for, now is it?" As he spoke, The Bull shifted, one of his broad knees finding its way between Dorian's legs before forcing them apart; dropping a massive thigh into the space he'd made so that he could torment Dorian's ridged cock with the hard cut muscle. Dorian bit his lip at the contact, trying to stifle the groan that reverberated through his chest regardless, in a vain effort to deny his tormentor the satisfaction of seeing just how much he was already enjoying this. Slowly, The Bull continued to press this thigh into the mage's groin, until Dorian couldn't stop himself from grinding up into the contact, seeking out a friction to match that exquisite pressure. All the while, The Bull's face, remained inches from Dorian's own, their breath mingling, hot and heavy, between them, lips drawing ever closer. Dorian braced himself for another one of those ruthless kisses only to have The Bull sink down at the last moment and yank the ties at his shoulder loose with his teeth.
Bastard was toying with him.
Well two could play at that.
Dorian waited for the moment when the Bull's head would be in the right position as he drew out the strings, then struck; darting forward and up to run his tongue along that long stubble covered jaw from chin to the base of one pointed ear. He relished the rough prickle of that dark stubble -it had been so long-, first under his tongue and then along his cheek as he approached his target; but not nearly as much as he relished the telling little shudder that ran thought the big warrior as he did it. However, it was the surprised huff of air that was expelled from The Bull's nostrils in a startled rush, as Dorian ran his tongue into The Bull's thick, ox-like ear, that the mage truly savored.
"Hot enough for you?" He murmured as he withdrew, relaxing back onto the 'bedding' with a superior little smirk on his lips. The look lost some of its sultry challenge, though, when the human's eyes grew round upon seeing the ear he'd just been tongue-ing begin to twitch and move independently. "Did I know they could do that?" He asked a little bewildered, not entirely certain the beer hadn't gone so thoroughly to his head that he wasn't seeing things. He'd have sworn he'd never seen The Bull's ears so much as tremble before and they certainly looked far less mobile than say, eleven ears which had no more range of motion than a human's.
"Congratulations." The Bull muttered as he shook his head a little and managed to get the ear to still its fidgeting. "I haven't slipped up on that front since I was in training." Training? Dorian was puzzled for a moment before the answer occurred to him; Ben-Hassrath training. If the qunari ears moved independently, like those of a horse or dog they would probably be and excellent source of information regarding their owner's moods and thoughts. Dorian had heard The Bull talking with their fair -rather expressive- Inquisitor regarding Ben-Hassrath style training to hide facial expressions; apparently that covered ear movement as well. Idly he wondered if it was hard for The Bull to hold them still like that all the time. He was still speculating on that, lost in his musings (and a bit of a beer fog, if he was honest) so that he had rather stopped paying attention to what The Bull was doing; when there came a sharp jerk at his shirt and he felt the stitching at his back, securing the leather buckles, pop he came back to the present situation in a right hurry.
"What, in the Void, do you think you're doing?!" He shouted as the tailored leather and cloth was literally torn from his chest "I have little enough by the way of tolerably fashionable clothing available to me as it is!" Dorian gave the tattered remains of his favorite shirt a mournful look as it was unceremoniously flung to the floor. "Right. Well done. You've murdered a perfectly innocent garment. I do hope you're proud of yourself."
"And here I thought you wanted to have sex sometime this evening." The Bull mocked as he collected Dorian's other wrist, now free of its sleeve and brought it too, above the mage's head to join it's brother in The Bull's adamantine gripe.
"Yes, well that hardly required the mindless destruction of my shirt!" Again Dorian was aware he was being caustic in a vain attempt to cover the sheer level of his excitement; not that he was managing anything of the sort if the twinkle in The Bull's eye was anything to go by. No, The Bull knew just exactly how excited Dorian was getting with each step they took toward the end game of this, their little charade. And now, with both of his hands pinned above his head, that single, disturbingly large, hand gripping both of his slender wrists like they were no more than the merest of twigs, Dorian was so turned on it was a struggle to keep himself from out and out panting like he was no more than prime bitch in heat.
"Right. Next time I'll waste the half-hour to get you out of all those ridiculous straps." The Bull deadpanned back, and small smirk playing about his scarred lips, "You were the one complaining about me taking too long, if you recall."
"That was different!" Dorian hissed up at him, experimentally testing The Bull's hold on his hands, his heart pounding a rapid staccato rhythm in his chest to feel the implied strength behind that grip; when The Bull squeezed a little in warning it was made shockingly apparent to Dorian that he could snap the mage's bones at a thought. "And who said anything about a 'next time'? Keep destroying my clothes and you'll be lucky to have a first!" He'd aimed for haughty, but his breathing had become heavy enough by that point that the tone was somewhat lost under his panting.
Again, The Bull, gave that irritatingly smug chuckle, and that smirk once again bloomed into a full predatory smile, laying claim to his scarred features, as the other too-big-hand demonstrated a surprising level of dexterity as he deftly dealt with the buckles on Dorian's breeches. He made surprisingly short work of the job too, considering he was doing it one handed; he almost did it faster than Dorian could manage with two hands while sober. It was when the warrior managed to tug off Dorian's boots, so that he might remove said breeches -silky cream smalls included-, however, that the true enormity of the situation came home to the mage; for The Bull did it without ever easing the pressure off the hands still held captive above Dorian's head. It wasn't even a stretch for the qunari; Dorian was like a child's doll in his hands.
Maker, what had he gotten himself into?
.ox:~DTF~:xo.
Finally, with a rather impatient tug, The Bull had Dorian naked but for the buckled leather half-sleeve he wore on his left arm. This time he did lick his lips in anticipation; the human was surprisingly well toned under that ridiculous get up of his. He let his eye wander over him from the neck down, savoring the sight of the little 'vint stretched out and on display for him. All that lovely olive skin, taught and smooth over a trim well defined figure. Every muscle sharply defined with the tension of the mage's anticipation. What little body hair the mage allowed to remain on his chest and about his sex, groomed every bit as fastidiously as that which the man wore upon his face and head.
The Bull, practically purred with appreciation. He didn't mind a bit of hair on his human or dwarven partners but he preferred it not he be overwhelming – probably a holdover from the fact that his own kind where just as hairless as elves. What Dorian bore was just enough to tantalize and titillate with out potentially getting in the way of anything The Bull might want to do with his mouth; nothing like spitting out short hairs to ruin the mood. His gaze followed that perfectly manicured trail of glossy hair that expertly drew the eye from the man's navel to the trimmed nest of coarser curls from which then mans cock sprouted; a graceful tawny spire crowned with a plump dawnstone pink head.
"Enjoying the view?" Came the smart mouthed taunt from the human as The Bull's eye lingered over that perfectly pretty cock when it began twitching under the scrutiny.
"Why wouldn't I? It is a very nice view." The Bull rumbled back.
"Nice! I have it on very good authority that the view I provide my partner's with is nothing shy of perfection." Dorian huffed.
"Hmmm. If only the rest of you was as big as your ego." The Bull teased, just to watch the mage's eyes light up with the fire of indignant outrage.
"And I suppose I'm just to take it on faith that what lies between your legs is as oversized as the rest of you?" Dorian snarked, before his eyes lit up with a wicked gleam. "Varric does call you 'Tiny'; perhaps the dwarf knows something the rest of us don't. It would certainly explain your reluctance to remove those monstrosities you call breeches. So what is it to be? Am I just to lie here, naked, while you salivate over a perfection you could never possibly hope to attain?"
Oh that ego definitely needed to be knocked down a few pegs.
The Bull shifted so that he was now fully atop the mage; his body covering every inch of Dorian and then some, while still holding himself aloft so that they weren't quite touching. Carefully, he positioned himself so that his groin was directly over the human's own fully erect cock then, slowly, he lowered himself down so that Dorian could feel the hard length of his cock measured out against his own. The mage's eyes grew almost as large and as round as an elf's, and his mouth actually fell open with a quiet gasp of shock at the feel of the qunari's sheer bulk. The Bull rumbled his satisfaction at the mage's speechlessness.
"I haven't let you see it yet, Dorian," He purred, his eye boring into Dorian's shocked and incredulous gaze, "because it's no fun if you go and faint with envy before I've had a taste."
.ox:~DTF~:xo.
The Bull dipped his head and stole another searing open-mouthed kiss from Dorian, but the mage could barely respond, his mind still reeling over the altogether mind boggling enormity of The Bull's cock as it pressed alongside his own, the implications of which were electrifying... and also terrifying. The Bull broke from this kiss much quicker than he had the others, perhaps sensing Dorian's distraction.
"You doin' alright, Dorian?" he asked, he eye crinkling with mirth, as a softly knowing half-smile spread over his lips.
Disarmed, and still a little shocked, Dorian responded with the first words that popped into his head. "You are aware, there is no way that's ever going to fit." The Bull just laughed as he reached over Dorian's head and started fussing with the pillows.
"It usually doesn't; not all of it at least. Don't worry about it though, I'm used to it. Not exactly a lot of qunari roaming around outside of Par Vollen -at least none I'd be willing to get involved with- and no one but another qunari takes all of a qunari cock."
Dorian felt a brief flash of desire -granted one heavily dosed with trepidation, but desire none-the-less- run through him at The Bulls' words; his vanity flaring up in a manner he was quite sure, most, would consider unhealthy. He had always been -perhaps- a little too eager to take up a challenge, it was true, but he'd be damned if he didn't leave just as deep an impression on The Iron Bull as The Bull was already leaving on him. It was a matter of pride. Silently, he vowed that he would take The Bull deeper than any of the qunari's past partners.
Finally, The Bull seemed satisfied with whatever it was he was doing with the pillows above Dorian's head and before he knew exactly what was happening Dorian found his wrists had been released and he was being manhandled into new position on the bed. When he came to rest he found his head and shoulders, supported by a couple of pillows, being pressed up against the head board, while another pillow had being tuned length wise so it ran down the length of Dorian's spine, proving an extra supporting incline. It would have probably been quite comfortable, if the next moment Dorian hadn't been roughly folded in half, his knees shoved up against his chest by one oversized hand, while The Bull's other hand reached into the chest serving double duty as The Bull's bedside table, and collecting a large bottle of oil.
"Hands." The Bull ordered as he pulled the cork form the bottle with his teeth.
"And if I refuse?" Dorian inquired cocking one eyebrow, curious to see what The Bull's response would be to his defiance.
"It's no skin off my back if you wanna chafe up that pretty hide of yours." The Bull said with a shrug. Dorian glared but begrudgingly offered his hands to The Bull, who proceeded to pour out a copious amount of the oil into them.
"And just what, exactly, do you expect me to do with this?"
"Horns." The Bull said, lowering his head in a somewhat menacing manner so that Dorian might reach his horns more easily. "Pay special attention to the base and crossbar, but the more coverage you can get, the better."
"Care to tell me precisely why it is I'm oiling your horns up? Or is this all part of some bizarre Qunari foreplay ritual?" Dorian needled, even as he complied; messaging the oil into the jagged callous-like plate of skin where horns erupted from The Bull's heavy brow and working his way out over the crossbar and up to the points. While he did this The Bull carefully set the rest of the oil back atop the chest within easy reach of the bed side.
"No, nothing like that. It's just so I can do this." Suddenly, The Bull slid down the bed and Dorian found his knees hooked over top The Iron Bull's freshly oiled horns. He didn't have time to recognize the implication of the position before the Bull was demonstrating it; his face buried deep in the cleft of Dorian's ass, making the man cry out in mingled shock and pleasure.
"Fasta vass!" The mage swore, as that wicked, long -talented- tongue once again unfurled and lapped over him; every muscle in Dorian's body went ridged as he instinctively tried to straighten out; to protect his sensitive, tender flesh from so sudden and intimate an invasion. This immediately clarified The Bull's reasons for hooking Dorian's legs over his horns like this, as well as why he'd had Dorian oil them up first. For when Dorian pressed forward, the Bull pressed back, his horns effectively pinning the mage in place between them and the head board, preventing him from attaining any relief from The Bull's ruthless onslaught. If those rough horns had been dry Dorian's skin would have been raw and abraded within moments.
As Dorian writhed within the confines of his captivity, his hands instinctively sought out his partner -desperately hunting for any form of contact- and took hold of the only part of The Bull's anatomy left within easy reach: the tips of those blasted horns.
.ox:~DTF~:xo.
The Bull moaned into the cleft of Dorian's ass as the mage's legs squeezed him; trapping the base of each horn between calf and thigh; the warm, strong pressure so very deeply soothing. He felt a rush of endorphins flood his system each time the man bore down and he had to remind himself to keep the pressure on, lest his prey be allowed to escape him. Not that Dorian sounded like he was even capable of dreaming of escape just now, as he thrashed and moaned and cursed above the Bull's head. His favorites were decidedly when the 'vint started cursing; hearing that high bred cultured voice, rough and dripping obscenities in a multitude of tongues was fucking hot, and every time another run of vulgarity escaped those pouty lips The Bull felt his cock throb with a heavy ardent want.
He guided his tongue to curl over and around that perfect star with practiced ease; savoring the small multitude of ways Dorian's body responded and resonated to its every stroke and curve. The way the mage's spine and hips bucked back against his horns, grinding against him. The feel of the big muscles of Dorian's legs as they twitched and trembled under his hands. The, now rhythmic, tensing of the man's legs over his horns rewarding him with those glorious pulses of pleasure. And the sound of the human's breathing as it grew more ragged and desperate around the flood of breathy, gasping, moans and biting passionate swearing. The Bull lost himself to the lust as he patiently worked Dorian's hole, teasing and toying with it until the flesh was soft, and pliant under his tongue, and the man was all but sobbing with a desperate want for something more.
"Bloody fuck!" The words escaped the mage in a breathless whine that barely made it passed his lips, as though he'd not air enough in his lungs to put any real force behind them. But the man recovered his wind enough to snarl the next bit. "Get on with it already!"
And with that, The Iron Bull finally allowed his hands to move down from the sides of the human's thighs till each cupped one of those glorious cheeks the man was so fond of taunting everyone with; a triumphant grin fighting to make itself known against Dorian's skin even as The Bull's blunt qunari fingers dug into the firm full flesh of the Altus' ass with a barely constrained glee. Above him, the mage groaned a long dawn out sound of the purist frustrated need.
The Bull had been dying to get that lush ass in his hands since first moment he'd laid eye on it. For all that he liked to poke at the 'vint for his absurd obsession with clothes and fashion, the warrior, had to admit the man knew how to impress, and how to display his better features to perfection; the best of which was that sweet ass. Ripe and full, and just begging to be squeezed and smacked.
Mmmm yeah, he was definitely gonna get in a smack or two before they were done; see just how pretty it looked all tinted pink and glowing under that tan.
The thought made The Bull's fingers ache to squeeze harder, and he had to remind himself to keep his grip in check, less he leave all that pert, mouthwatering skin, bruised beyond comfort. That Dorian would walk away from this encounter bearing some bruises was inevitable, such was the nature of The Bull's strength when combined with a bit of rough sex, but he wanted those bruises light; a fond reminder of a wild night of horn gripping, sheet ripping passion.
'Cause sure, one-night-stands were all well and good… with the serving girls and stable hands, but The Bull could already tell this thing with the mage was going to be an experience worth repeating.
Now if he just needed to convince Dorian of that fact.
.ox:~DTF~:xo.
Dorian was a mess. Vaguely, he was aware the voice of his pride screaming at him, as though from a great distance, to do something about that fact, but frankly, the voices of lust and desire had long since drowned him out. At this point, Dorian had simply sunk too far into the fire of his own want to care about something as banal as keeping up appearances.
He'd lost all concept of time as The Bull had meticulously teased him open with that deceptively sly tongue of his. It might have been no more than a hand full of minutes, it might have been hours; Dorian didn't know and, honestly, didn't care. He was lost in the land between 'too much' and 'not enough' and it was a wondrous, awful, place.
Three times he'd spread his legs as wide as The Bull's horns would allow, desperate to clear the way so he might try for some kind of hold on his aching twitching cock; and thrice, The Bull, had circumvented him. Twice by pressing into Dorian so that he was folded solidly in half -his own legs effectively becoming a barrier between his hands and their goal- And once, by distracting him so thoroughly he'd utterly forgotten what he'd be trying to do, before that devious tongue had been pressed deep inside him and had started writhing like that.
At last, it had become too much to bear.
"Bloody fuck! Get on with it already!" He demanded, ordered even. Clearly a command that The Bull decided to move on, knowing full well that Dorian would not beg. Dorian Pavus begging; what a ridiculous notion.
Of course, those were just the lies he kept telling himself. For even as his voice remained strong, his body was growing weak; his every action screaming of a pathetic and wanton need. His limbs all trembling as he pressed down on the Bull's face and groaned like a man dying to finally feel those monster hands as they took a hold of his ass. His oversized grip like steel, squeezing till Dorian felt the first kiss of pain lying just below the pleasure. He pressed back into those hands as much as The Bull's horns would allow with his trembling weak as water legs still tucked over them.
Then The Bull pressed something beside his tongue against Dorian's slick and pulsing back door and the mage's mind stuttered to a stop.
That can't be...
He looked down and confirmed the physical impossibility of what it felt like he was feeling; the way The Bull had him positioned meant he couldn't see much beyond his own shins and The Bull's broad scar covered neck and back, but it was enough to confirm that everything was as it should be. The Bull was still, mostly hanging off the foot of the bed; his horns, and head, and hands the only things anywhere near Dorian's ass, and yet, again there came that broad blunt pressure and Dorian would have sworn…
He focused on the feel of every place The Bull and he were in close contact, trying to make sense of it. He could feel The Bull's horns, rough and jagged under his thighs, which were throbbing in a way that made Dorian suspect a certain amount of bruising. He could feel the thick ragged plate of rough hard skin that marked the meeting of horn and brow, as it was pressed up against his balls. The sharp prickle of The Bull's stubbled cheeks where they left the skin just either side of his crack feeling a little raw as The Bull rimmed him within an inch of his life. But most of all he could feel those big hands splayed out over his ass; the fingers, long and thick, reaching just past his buttocks and up onto his thighs, the small ones curling round to his hips, as his thumbs-
Vishante kaffas! That's what it was! That fat blunt thing, circling and rocking into the ring of sensitive muscle was one of The Iron Bull's thumbs. Not something Dorian would normally have considered a problem, but from where he currently sat it felt like nothing so much as a cock being pressed up against him; a small one to be sure, but certainly nothing like any finger or digit should.
"Relax, Pavus." The Bull chided him, lifting his head a bit and Dorian's legs along with it. "You're going to undo all my hard work."
"Easy for you to say!" Dorian gritted out, just before all the air abandoned his lungs in a rush when The Bull put a bit more pressure behind his hands, making that thick thumb slide into him, merciless and slow with nothing but The Bull's saliva to slick its way. The luster of sweat that had made Dorian's skin shine in the dim lamp light suddenly turned into a thick sheen as beads of perspiration sprung up all over his body at the oversized intrusion. Even with The Bull's careful rimming and Dorian's desperate eagerness, it was a bloody tight fit with and relatively un-stretched muscle. Loathe to admit it as he was, it been a while since Dorian had, had an opportunity to do this sort of thing; and no one had ever gone about opening him in this fashion before; which is to say, with something quite as thick as The Iron Bull's thumb. Dorian grabbed a hold of his knees and pulled them even tighter to his chest, trying to make as much space as possible available.
Venhedis what kind of trouble had he invited into his life, letting The Bull do this to him; normally fingers were the easy-part.
The Bull ducked his horns clear of the mage's legs when he felt Dorian instinctively pull his knees up to give him room to work; a cocky mocking smile spreading across his lips.
"Suffering a bit of dry spell, were we, Little Dorian?" The Bull teased upon encountering the surprisingly tight state of Dorian's passage.
"Shut up." Dorian panted, as The Bull began working his thumb in and out in with relentlessly steady thrusts, "And don't call me 'little'.I'm actually -ngh!- rather tall for a -ahha!- human; I'm only 'little' when compared to oversized -mmhh!- monstrosities like you!" He then attempted to level the brute with the most ferocious glare currently available to him; which just wasn't. For some strange reason, Dorian's eyes were finding it rather hard to focus. "Fasta vass! Couldn't you have started with something a little smaller! The little finger perhaps!"
"You're a big guy, right? You can take it." Was The Bull's smirking response, earning him a properly hostile, -if brief- glare this time. The expression vanished when The Bull changed the orientation of his thumb a bit, and dragged the meaty calloused pad of it right over Dorian's sweet spot, making Dorian's eyes roll back into his head as that sweet wave of pleasure crested over him; intense and inescapable. Dorian's body flushed hotly and he moaned an absolutely mortifying-ly pleased little moan; one which saw that last vestiges of Dorian's pride curl up in a little ball to hide in the deepest recesses of his mind, where it preceded to rock with hands over its ears trying to pretend this wasn't happening.
"There we are." The Bull murmured meditatively as he absently reached for the bottle of oil again. Pouring another thick stream over the spot where Dorian was impaled upon his thumb; easing the resistance of skin and muscle.
"Bull!" Dorian pleaded, shifting his hips in a vain effort to feel that sweet heat again. The Bull seemed more than happy to comply; again shifting the angle of his grip so that he could hit that sweet spot. Only this time he didn't so much as hit it, as press it; his thumb stroking over the spot with the smallest of movements that positively liquidated Dorian's insides under the molten heat.
This was a new experience to him; no one had ever tormented him in quite this manner before and Dorian's breath left him in a shuddering rush of air as he gritted his teeth and trembled to feel that hot flood of liquid heat slowly growing and expanding in the pit of his groin. His muscles began to quake as he curled in even tighter to himself, cock positively drooling pre-cum over his abdomen where it was trapped against him by his thighs. He wanted nothing so much as to be able to grab and stroke himself furiously but his hands were currently occupied, holding his knees in a grip so fierce his knuckles were aching with it.
He was so focused on that deep incendiary heat as it continued to expand, growing ever hotter, that he never noticed The Bull's other oil coated thumb as it gently began stroking little half circles along the stretched ring of muscle at his entrance; waiting for the right moment to invade.
.:xo~DTF~ox:.
The Bull watched Dorian like a cat at a mouse hole. Enjoying the sight of every muscle and sinew as they grew ever tighter. Looking for that moment when the mage would hit the wall of his endurance; when he was wound so tight he had nowhere left to go but to break apart.
It wasn't a long wait.
When it came, Dorian, pulled in a breath like a drowning man and held it. The flush on his face spreading and deepening to a bloody shade of scarlet as he waited for the moment of release his body was telling him must be coming, making The Bull groan at the sight. He couldn't help but think how fucking hot it is when the human's jaw clenched, the tendons on his neck growing sharply defined under the strain. The Bull's cock was aching with need; he wouldn't be surprised at all to discover it was leaking just as heavily as Dorian's under his clothes, but the mage wasn't ready for him yet, so he bit down on the desire to simply tear off his trews and bury himself in that sweet tight ass. He bit on it till he could taste blood, and realized he had actually been biting his cheek trying to keep himself in line; and nothing he could do was capable of stopping the low guttural growl of want that crawled out of him at the exquisite picture of temptation that was Dorian Pavus on the brink of his orgasm.
With a gasp like the crack of a whip Dorian's lungs finally demand the air he'd been denying them and a broken pleading sob was torn from the human's throat. "Sweet bloody Maker! Bull, please!" He begged, tears welling forth in his eyes as he abandoned his taught stillness in favor of grinding back on Bull's hand in a provocative display of wanton desperation that saw The Bull's own hips start to grind against the bed in turn, matching the mage's rhythm. Imagining the feel of that tight hot passage as it clenched and spammed around his thumb doing the same around his aching prick. Dorian sobbed before him and The Bull could deny him no more. He relaxed his thumb from its tightly controlled flyspeck stroking and dragged it properly over the mage's prostate in two hard brutal strokes that saw Dorian screaming; on the third he slid his second thumb home.
Dorian came like a geyser. His body arching up off the sheets, a hoarse broken cry spilling from his throat as a fountain of ejaculate spattered across his sternum; a beautiful milky stream, contrasting sharply against all that pretty, flushed bronze skin, in a way that made The Bull rumble with appreciation.
Dorian's whole body relaxed on the heels of his orgasm; opening up for the Bull's enjoyment like a rose opening it's petals to the sun. His legs falling to the bed as his hands lost their grip, spreading wide to frame Dorian's still twitching cock. One arm falling back to cover over his eyes as he panted while the other collapsed boneless-ly to the bed at his side.
It was that very 'boneless-ness' that The Bull had been waiting for, and with out wasting any time he set about putting his thumbs to work; crooking the ends and eagerly stretching Dorian's now slack entrance at a seemingly frantic pace.
"Fasta vass! Give me a moment!" Dorian panted trying to squirm away from that over whelming, wriggling, stretching, fullness, yet clearly unable to find any strength with which to do so; which of course had been The Bull's purpose all along.
Loose, weak and limp as Dorian was now, it was mater of only a handful of minutes to stretch that taught ring of muscle till it was ready for him; till it was slack around his thick thumbs and fluttered lewdly when he removed them, begging him to fill it with something of greater substance. And the Bull quite agreed that, that was exactly what the situation called for; Dorian was ready for him and he wanted to feel the 'vint wrapped around his cock like he'd wanted nothing ever before.
Dorian had whimpered at the loss of The Bull's fingers, and he whimpered again when the rich radiant heat of him withdrew from its close proximity to his sweat soaked skin; however, her could do nothing more than whimper at these losses. He was still weak after his orgasm; his muscles slack, shacking and trembling to and even greater extent than before from the Bull's continued teasing after the deed was done. It hadn't been the fullest Dorian have ever been, with both of the brute's thumbs in there, but it had been close. That Dancer in Minrathous had been larger -or, well longer, at least- but he'd been rather famously well endowed, and he'd at least had the good graces to not over stimulate his partner then be so abrupt about his departure.
Now, after being stretched so staggeringly wide, then brutally abandoned, Dorian could feel his asshole gaping shamelessly at the sudden emptiness. It was distressing; that lack of internal pressure leaving him feeling achingly hollow throughout his entire being. He could hear his heart pounding in is chest as though his whole body was nothing more than one of those great empty kettle drums.
He managed to peel one eye open looking for where in the void The Bull had run off to, just in time to see the qunari kick his boots off behind him -sending them flying to the bed chamber wall with the force of his movements- and then, with an equal show of violent haste, he loose the broad belt that cinched those Maker-awful breeches in place, so that the cloth and leather all fell to the floor with a heavy thump.
At last, The Iron Bull, stood naked before him and Dorian's head swam at the sight. With that monstrously oversized girdle the warrior wore gone, it became exceedingly obvious just how excellent a job it did of disguising everything about The Bull's lower half. Dorian had known he couldn't possibly be as soft in the middle as he looked in that get up; any one with a back as carved up as The Bull's had to have some tone and structure on the front as well, and The Bull's hard cut stomach did not disappoint the mage's vague imaginings. His legs too, spectacular, thick as tree trucks, huge and powerful, but mostly Dorian's eyes were drawn to the great protruding length of cock the warrior had teased him with earlier. Distantly, he was grateful The Bull had waited till he was this far gone before sharing this with him because seeing it now Dorian could safely say (if only in the private recesses of his own mind), the brute had been right. If Dorian had, had the strength in his limbs to do so he'd have bolted, and if he'd had the presence of mind to really comprehend what he was looking at…
All of a sudden, The Bull's mocking jest about him fainting didn't seem so far fetched. The Bull was hung like… well, a bull.
The qunari's cock was long, and thick, and every bit as gnarled and burly as the rest of the warrior. It jutted out from him like a third horn, the thick pale shaft pulsing with want; the head, a deep dusky purple-red, gleaming and sopping with pre-cum. Dorian's mouth watered to see the level to which the sight and sound of him had managed to excite his partner, it roused his pride a bit, to see such clear proof that he wasn't the only one losing his composer over this experience.
Dorian's eyes still lingered on the wetly shining head, his tongue sneaking out to moisten his lips as he tried to imagine just what it would be like to taste it. What would it feel like to wrap his lips around that enormous girth and run his tongue over all its sensitive spots. He tried to visualize taking all of it in, opening his throat and sinking down upon his length until his…
Dorian felt a small frown crease his brow and he tried to sit up. His eyes, as they had traveled up the shaft of The Bull's cock had spotted something odd about the base; and subtle flaring bulge right at the root of that magnificent erection, just before his view was obscured by an oil soaked massive hand as The Bull began to stroke himself, coating his prick till it was positively dripping with thick oil as he made his way back to the bed; a burning hunger lighting his eye.
And Dorian quite forgot about anything beyond what was about to happen.
The Bull came in low; the bed dipping and rocking under his weight as he all but crawled over Dorian's still limp limbs.
"Hhmmm. You look every bit as delicious as you taste," He rasped, dipping his head low over Dorian's belly and licking up his seed before looking up at Dorian, his eye hot and feral with that predatory glint as he moved up, over the mage's chest til there faces were once again inches apart. "and you taste like sex~." He finished in a purr, his hot breath heavily laden with the scent of Dorian's own cream washed over the mage, like the a headiest of liqueurs.
Dorian opened his mouth in eager anticipation; tilting his head to the side, his tongue coming forward to meet The Bull's, a moment before the qunari once again claimed him a kiss that was now, not only hotter than dragon's fire, but also filthy as sin. Dark, and dirty, and heavy with the taste of Dorian's own cum, it reignited Dorian's hunger from earlier and he felt the strength and vigor returning to his limbs and spent cock with an astounding rapidity. As the qunari once again plundered his mouth with ruthless disregard for his comfort, he found himself arching up into The Bull's broad chest, his legs spreading wider and coming up to better set the angle as The Bull reached down between them, till his cock was lined up with Dorian's gaping entrance.
And this time there was no mistaking this as any thing but The Bull's cock. That huge head pressed tight up against him making and absolute mockery of his thumbs from earlier. Maddeningly, The Bull, pressed in only until he encounter that first hint of resistance, he stopped dead making Dorian snarl up at him, once again taking that thick lip between his teeth and biting till he tasted blood.
"Fucking get on with it already!" He growled into the other's mouth. His whole body trembling with frustrated want.
"Trust me, Dorian I'm every bit as eager as you are." The Bull panted over him, "But you need to keep your head just a bit longer. You need to tell me when to stop." Dorian once again opened his eyes to see the Bull looking at him in that piercing way of his.
"If you stop," Dorian panted, "I'm going to set the bloody bed on fire." He threatened trying to press himself down on that maddening almost intrusion he could feel twitching and bucking at his back porch.
"I'm serious, Dorian. When you hit your limit you need to tell me." The Bull voice was surprisingly earnest and it pulled Dorian out of his lust fogged haze some, his eyes searching The Bull's face for the lie, -because it had to be a lie- behind that concerned tone he could hear; but the Bull's face was a mask, even more unreadable to Dorian now than ever, with his mind thick and clouded over with need.
"Fine. Just put it in already!" He agreed, once more rocking back to try and further penetrate himself.
That was all the assurance the Bull needed for the next moment Dorian was arching up off the bed, shouting a long string of Tevene curses as The Bull slid into him in a long slow relentless thrust. It was like a the onslaught of the on coming tide; massive, powerful and unstoppable. Dorian could do not more than ride it out. The overwhelming aching burn of being breached by something so disproportionately large, warring with the pleasure spiked rush of endorphins his mind rewarded him with at being filled beyond anything he had ever dreamed of experiencing. This was the fullest Dorian had every been, so far beyond any previous experience that it was absurd.
As The Bull continued to drive into him, Dorian felt that achy fiery shudder he associated with the muscle of his leg and back when being penetrated, spreading beyond the usual bounds. Soon his arms where shaking, with it, his feet burning with it, and his lungs gasping and screaming for air from it; as though The Bull's massive cock was some how reaching so far inside him that it was crowding out his every bone, preventing him, even, from taking a proper breath with its volume. And still the fire spread. Coursing throughout his being until that act of penetration had become a whole body experience. One where Dorian's every nerve and fiber was soon crying out on the cusp of pain; the brink of pleasure.
It was so much.
Too much.
And yet, not enough.
His long fate-enforced abstinence had left the mage with a ravenous hunger which was taking in the feast The Bull had brought to his table and intended to glut itself on this pleasure. He would accept every last scrap and morsel that The Bull was willing to give him, and he would take whatever the beast would hold in reserve. He clamped his mouth shut, biting down on the treacherous tongue which had dared considered checking the qunari's advance; as he forced his lungs to draw in another -proper- breath. Using the flood of fresh oxygen to exhale through the barrier of his discomfort that would keep him from reaching the deeper well of his pleasure, and let The Bull sink deeper.
"That's it; breathe through it, Dorian. Fuck! You feel so fucking tight." The Bull's breathing was every bit as labored and ragged as the mage's as he sunk slowly deeper and deeper into that scalding hot passage. Pressing himself into the sheathe Dorian was providing with exquisite care, all the while fight the urge to simply slam himself home.
Normally it wasn't this bad, that need to bury himself till he was seated to the very hilt; his knot fully encased inside his partner. But something about this arrogant little 'vint had woken his deeper, less controllable, nature and he was trembling with the effort to contain himself, every moment like walking over cut glass, as he waited for the moment Dorian would cry 'Stop!' and he would have to cease that glorious torturous decent into paradise.
Inch by inch he progressed, sinking further in, with an agonizing slowness. His every exhale carrying out an accompanying groan of satisfaction as the mage continued to breathe his way through the burning stretch, showing no sign of calling the halt. Already Dorian had taken The Bull deeper than any male partner had taken him since being sent beyond the borders of Par Vollen and he was fast approaching the point where most women called an end to his advance too.
"Dorian." He groaned, his voice filled with a halting sort of warning, as he slowed his forward press, afraid the suborn mage had gotten it into his head that he was going to prove the 'Arrogant Qunari' wrong and force himself well and beyond what he could actually physically handle.
"Don't stop!" Was the human's immediate edict, his voice somewhere between desperate mewl and a livid snarl. "I swear to the Maker, Bull, if you stop there-" He heaved, "-I will set your horned ass on fire!"
"Vashedan! Dorian, if I go any further-" A deep moaning bellow of want cut off the rest as it poured out his chest when the mage clenched down around him, his hips jutting forward another half an inch, until The Bull could feel the slick wet heat brush against the top of his knot.
"There~" Dorian finally hissed through gleaming gritted teeth, his voice strained yet immensely satisfied just as The Bull was sure he was about to crack; knowing that if Dorian managed to take in even the smallest portion of his knot that there would be no stopping himself until he'd forced the whole of it into that burning fevered depth.
The Bull closed his eye and sucked his abused and bitten lip into mouth trapping it beneath his own teeth as he held his breath; holding himself still by sheer force of will; trying to stem the tide of his need while the human adjusted. Dorian didn't help on that front at all. Cheeky bastard kept rocking his hips in these little thrusting movements, his channel sporadically clenching down around the Bull's cock, wringing out a loud startled grunts with every pulse of pleasure.
"What are you waiting for, a written invitation?" Dorian finally panted up from beneath him and The Bull opened his eye to take in the pretty picture made by Dorian's face; flushed, strained, and absolutely dripping with sweat, those pouty lips parted and swollen, as the 'vint's hazel eyes burned up at him. "Move you great lump!"
Bull didn't need telling twice.
With a roar he hauled back, retreating from that glorious depth before sinking back in with a thrust like a battering ram that saw Dorian's entire body shift up the bed until the mage's head smacked against the head board with an undignified 'thud'. Dorian didn't seem to notice, but The Bull, still had enough presence of mind to recognize that if he did that a few more times, he was going to end up braining the human in the process of buggering him. When he withdrew again, he dragged the mage back down the bed by his hips and slammed him down onto his cock, instead.
It made for a very pretty show as the mage arched up and writhed as he was dragged down onto The Bull's impaling length. The Altus' eyes half lidded and fogged over with pleasure, his immaculate mustache in total disarray over those bitten and kiss-bruised lips, his normally pristine perfect hair a tangled sweat soaked mess; As far and The Bull was concerned, the mage had never looked better.
But there was room for improvement yet. Yeah, Bull was gonna turn Dorian it to a proper mess before this was done, and a gaping asshole leaking out his seed seemed like the perfect finishing touch.
With a violence driven by haste, he once more fell to cover the mage's body, this time placing his bracing arm in the space between the man's long neck and his shoulder; effectively preventing the man from sliding up the bed again as he began to really pound into him. Even so, he was careful never to drive passed the mage's comfort; a task that was, for once, simplicity itself to accomplish. His knot naturally providing resistance to mark the end of each thrust. At this depth, The Bull, would actually have to try in order to slip passed that mark. Not that it wasn't insanely tempting to do just that with the mage's ass brushing up against his long neglected knot like that on every stroke. Never the less, despite -or perhaps because of- that sweet temptation, The Bull began to groan with a genuine appreciation for that extra half inch the man had taken from him. That little hitch of resistance making it almost feel like he was actually seating himself properly; a sensation he'd been denied for more years than he'd care to count.
"Fuck! You're so fucking good, Dorian! Like a proper fucking Tamassren." He huffed, his breathing hitching then speeding up till it was even more ragged and halting than the human's as he really started to move; finding his rhythm and ruthlessly taking what he wanted from that deep hot road. Not that Dorian was complaining about the rough treatment; if those delightful little cries of pleasure, The Bull was pounding out of him, were any thing to go by, the mage was positively reveling in being 'used and abused' in this way.
Dorian was most certainly not complaining, awash in a haze of overwhelming fullness and guttural pleasure as he was. Each thrust sending torrents of sensation to his every sinew and making his vision spark and flare. It was devastating and amazing and terrifying and so incredibly -painfully- wonderful, Dorian really didn't know where he ended and The Bull began any more. His whole body had turned into one giant naked nerve, dedicated to the sole purpose of feeling every inch of raw uncut pleasure the Bull was assaulting him with.
Sweet Maker! He'd never felt anything like this. Not that there hadn't been pleasantly of rough sex in his past. Fast, hasty, rutting in a dark room -both himself and his partner caring only about their own immediate pleasure- had sadly been the norm in Tevinter; but never had there been anything like this. The was nothing refined or contained about the way The Bull was taking him. Each long thrust filling him until he was sure he was going to break around it; each swift retreat leaving him feeling bereft and empty and all the more desperate for that brutal, hard return.
It was pleasure at its rawest -pure and untamed- and it would leave Dorian forever ruined for anything less.
He was aware, on some level, that the headboard had begun to bang against the wall with enough force to rouse the tower's other occupants, and that he himself had started screaming like some wailing soprano and could undoubtedly be heard even in the main all at this point. Yet, he couldn't seem to stop the shouted, pleading, cries for more that spilled from his lips in an endless stream. Nor, did it seem, he really wanted to.
No, what he wanted, was to let go. To give in, and bask in this selfish loss of control. To throw off the constrictive ties of convention and propriety, once and for all, and immerse himself in the primitive animalistic need of the moment. To give it all over, and simply subside on instinct.
He felt his shoulder as it slammed into the marble-esque pillar of The Bull's forearm with each savage thrust of the warrior's hips, no doubt leaving a telling bruise on his normally bare shoulder for all the inquisition to see come morning.
Well he could leave a mark or two of his own.
He moved his still sleeved arm, and wrapped it around the hard post of The Bull's, then turned his face into it; finally managed to still his indecent hollering as he occupied his mouth with licking up the salt laden sweat that slicked that brawny forearm, before biting into the thick gray hide with his teeth.
"Fuck yeah!" The Bull thundered, his steel blue eye loosing the last of its color to The Bull's pleasure blown pupil and the qunari rewarded Dorian by bending lower over the 'vint till Dorian was all but smothered under that expansive chest; the warrior's rutting reaching even greater speeds. Dorian twisted his hand and really snarled his nail into The Bull's bicep, even as he shifted his mouth and again sunk his teeth into the strong sturdy flesh this time on the warrior's peck. The Bull bellowed his rapture, clearly getting almost as much enjoyment from the added sting of pain as he was from plowing into Dorian like he was so much un-tilled earth. The Bull's head dropped lower until Dorian could feel his humid breath cascading over his ear in loud jagged pants. Dorian turned his head and arched his neck back so that he might graze his teeth oven that long rough stubbled chin and was rewarded with a deep rumbling moan that harmonized pleasantly with his own tenor whining.
Then he snuck his hand up over hard ribs to and a hard expanse of one pectoral before following the line of The Bull's neck up passed a twitching ear to on grab a hold of the Bull's thick horn; hauling the brute's head down, drawing him closer, and using his grip to provide the leverage he needed so that he might change the angle of his hips. Shifting and rolling his pelvis in time with The Bull's titanic surges until…
"There! Yes! Maker's puckered As- Bull~!" The name dragging out in a long lamentation of need as Dorian went rigid again. Holding the angle as, The Bull, hammered into him, battering his prostate with every earth-shattering strike of his over blown cock as one equally over blown hand forced its way between them and took hold of Dorian's seeping cock in a grip like a vice, letting their combined motion do the work of stroking Dorian against his tough battle worn palm.
"Yeah! That's it! Com'on Big Guy. Give it to me again. Cum for me again, you beautiful Bastard." The Bull grunted into Dorian's ear, the words heaving and desperate and encouraging as The Bull's rhythm began to stutter just before Dorian's cock kicked in his hand and the mage was coming. Spending his load like it was his first time this evening. The product pulsing up over The Bull's fingers and spilling all the way to the upper reaches of his chest. Satisfied that the job was done, The Bull, released the mage's cock, placing his soiled hand over Dorian's other should, irregardless of the mess it made of the sheets as he took his chance to see to the last of his own needs; claiming his own orgasm in four hard jerking thrusts. Spilling what felt like a river's worth of blisteringly hot cum deep into Dorian's ass with a deafening roar of satisfaction. Finally sated, he allowed himself to collapse to his forearms nuzzling his face into the crook of the mage's neck as best his horns -and their not inconsequential height difference- would allow.
Beneath the press of the massive warrior's weight Dorian lay, panting… gasping… spent…
And unrepentantly desperate for more.
A/N: Oh yeah. I'm so~ not done with you yet, my pretties (cue the maniacal laughter – Mwahahahhaha!) We still got a whole 'nother chapter to go! ('Cause I am apparently incapable of giving you a lemon without first growing a whole damned lemon tree).
So you made it to the end, which I hope means you weren't too freaked out by my little additions. There will be more about The Bull's 'Knot' in chapter three (it's the focus of the whole bloody chapter, honestly) if you're interested/curious, OR if you're still not sure about it, please bear that fact in mind. For those of you who aren't already A/B/O or Omegaverse fans I hope it wasn't too much to take; however if it has intrigued you and you're hungry for more, I recommend reading some classic Omegaverse.
It's not massively common in the DA Fandom yet, but you can finds some brilliant examples of it in the works of Ao3's xxMad_Donaxx's two series ' A Mage's Haven' & 'Angel Hawke', and also in Secretbraintwin's 'Heat' (all of which are amazing reads and I HIGHLY recommend). For those of you who are, however, already fans of the trope I want to assure/warn you that this story isn't going to turn into that; I'm just stealing that one physical Alpha trait - 'Cause I LOVE it, 'cause it's HAWT, and because it seemed the most plausible, (and least disturbing) thing I could do to make The Bull's cock interesting and special.
Again, my sincerest thanks to all you amazing people. The only thing that could possibly make me love you more is to hear a review from you!
'Til next time my Doves,
P.S. - (Author's Asides Cont'd.)
3) Qunari – In order to avoid any MORE confusion around the 'Qunari' as a race vs 'Qunari' as a religious designation, I have broken it down as such: When I capitalize the 'Q' (Qunari) that is referring to a follower of The Qun in good faith no mater what their physical race, but seeing as Bull says that the name of the parent race is not a valid substitution for his kind (and Because using 'Tal Vashoth' as a descriptor is murder on a story'e pacing), I am now using the lowercase 'q' (qunari) whenever describing the race. So: Gat would be a Qunari elf, while Iron Bull is a Tal Vashoth qunari. Hope that clears thing up.