Bethany smiled coyly and nodded. Fenris fell to his knees before her and kissed her roughly, leaving her lips tingling and slightly bruised. "Was that the first time you had performed such a task?" He asked, his voice huskier than usual. Bethany nodded, not quite looking him in the eye. "Then you my girl, are preternaturally talented." Flattery beyond her actual skill, but Fenris did not want to put the mage off.

He took her chin in his hand and kissed her softly, trying to be reassuring. He was not by nature a gentle man, but he knew when to be cautious and bide his time. He pushed her robes off her shoulders and moved his lips down to her collarbone, pulling her head back to lap at the hollow of her throat. The resulting gasp travelled straight to his groin making him almost ache with the need of release. Keeping her head cradled in his hand, he gently forced her back until she was sprawled beneath him. Surprisingly eager lips traced up her throat and jaw, stopping just to hover over her own flushed mouth. Her warm pants washed over his face and she lifted her head to kiss him. He pulled back, just millimetres out of reach and chuckled to himself. She wanted him, he could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her fingers gripped his biceps and how her hips shifted unconsciously under him. He quickly dipped his head lower to lick her bottom lip before continuing his exploration southwards.

He kissed his way down her chest, his hand untangling from her hair to trail over her shoulder and pull down her robes until they pooled around her waist. He sat back and considered her breast binding which was only covering half of its quarry thanks to his earlier advances.

"How many layers must a man remove until he reaches what he desires?" He said, taking a minute to study the woman lying before him.

Bethany removed her arms from the robes and pushed the offending item further off her body before she kicked them away. Sitting up, she pulled her breast binding over her head and tossed it into the pile with her robes before reaching for Fenris. He met her half way, kissing blindly, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap as he sat back. His erection was now caught between them and he moaned into her mouth at the sudden abundance of friction. Sensing the cause of his pleasure, Bethany shifted back and forth in his lap, giggling a little to herself.

Growling, he pulled back to glare at her from beneath knitted brows. "Your underthings," his large, warrior calloused hands ran down her sides and hooked under her only remaining clothing, "they offend me." He pulled at them, snapping both sides, so they fell away.

One of his arms snaked back around her waist while the other delved between her legs, slowly moving through soft curls to find her warm, wet and ready for him. He ran two fingers between her slick folds, back and forth, applying more pressure each time he passed over her clit. Involuntarily, she bucked against him making no other noise then a quietly surprised 'oh' at the contact.

He kept this up for several minutes, never dipping inside, just stroking. Bethany was a mess in arms, moving in his lap trying to get more. She didn't know what she wanted more of—she just wanted, needed more. Her entire body felt like it was tingling, burning with the need to be touched. Her hands were all over Fenris, never stilling for more than a moment. Down his chest, gripping his arms and shoulders, buried in his hair, clawing at his back. She felt the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere at once but she didn't know how. And then suddenly it became hard to breath, she was gasping but it wasn't enough. Her legs were trembling and twitching and she was unable to stop them. Her arms wrapped around Fenris as she buried her head in the crook of his neck. Her entire body felt like it was trying to curl in on itself, on the hand and the sensation between her legs and then suddenly Fenris twisted his wrist and dragged his thumb hard across her swollen nub and everything changed. It felt like her body was exploding, lightning running through her veins.

Shuddering with the power of her first climax, she clung to Fenris with all of her now limited strength. Nothing outside this room, outside the two of them mattered. She felt his touch soften to help guide her through her aftershocks—kisses on her jaw and across her cheek. She leant against him limply, a soft smile playing at her lips as she took deep, shuddering breaths.

"I trust you found that enjoyable?" Fenris asked with a wry smirk.

"Maker, that was something!" She answered breathlessly. His grip on her loosened as she sat upright with a shy look on her face. She leant forward and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. "That was amazing."

"That was nothing, believe me."

He pushed forward, laying her down gently on the floor. He moved over her, putting a knee between her thighs and slowly but firmly pushing up. She mewed and squirmed against him, eyes closed tight as her teeth worried at her bottom lip. He was actually starting to enjoy himself more then he initially planned. She was a most responsive lover, every gasp or twitch an honest reaction to the stimuli he applied. With Hawke, his every touch was met with a counter caress or a responding kiss, which he enjoyed, but with Bethany she was too lost in the pleasure he was providing to do much more then arch and quiver at his ministrations. It was strangely empowering.

He tangled his hands with hers and raised them above her head, pinning her underneath him. He kissed her fiercely, his tongue taking possession of her mouth. Much like her older sister, she was quite intoxicating, if more reserved.

A hand slowly stroked down her arm, making her squirm and giggle. He filed that away for later use, although for what reason he did not know. As he came to her ample breast, his fingers ghosted over a nipple. Bethany gasped and arched into the touch. His mouth came down to replace his hand as his fingers danced over her delicate frame, ever downwards. She spread her legs wide to give him easier access. His lips formed a smirk around her nipple. Teasingly, he diverted his hand to trace up her knee, causing her to let out a small huff of exasperation.

"All good things to those who wait," he growled

Her hands moved to tangle in his hair and pull him up to her. "I'm tired of waiting."

Darkened eyes studied her from beneath his white locks of hair. Never breaking eye contact, he moved to kneel between her legs. His wandering hand settled on her hip. "There will be pain." He whispered, she only nodded mutely in reply.

He positioned himself just outside her entrance. He then steadied himself on his forearm and slowly pushed inwards until he felt resistance. Bethany made a small whine and clamped her eyes shut. Fenris pulled back a fraction before thrusting in forcefully to push past the barrier of her virginity while claiming her mouth in hope of distracting her from the pain. He stilled himself inside her, allowing her to become comfortable with the feel of him inside her.

He leant down and whispered in her ear, "Use your magic."

She looked up at him in confusion, but he only gave a small, curt nod. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the healing magic to wash over her and ease the pain.

It was a peculiar feeling being inside her as she healed herself, her magic made her body hum, which in turn made his lyrium bands tingle like he was activating them. But the white hot burn that he normally felt was replaced with a cooling, numbing, almost pleasant sensation. Her grip loosened in his hair and she smiled up at him.

"All better."

He kissed her softly on her lips and resumed his movement, thrusting in and out of her at a slow and steady pace. He nuzzled into her jaw, laying soft kisses over any flesh he came to. He hit a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear and Bethany giggled and squirmed. Her giggling caused her to tighten her walls around him, causing him to buck into her hard. There was no holding him back now. He would take her, claim her. He pulled out of her slowly and thrust back in as hard and deep as he could, repeating the process until he was on the very brink of release. Every time he slammed into her, Bethany's breath hitched and her eyes fluttered closed. He could keep himself on the edge all night if need be but he wanted to make sure she came again before he did. She was throwing her head side to side, biting her bottom lip to keep in the sounds of pleasure she was too embarrassed to let fall from her lips.

"Don't do that." Fenris demanded, his voice low and gravelly, punctuating each word with a thrust. "I want to hear you."

"Oh Fenris…oh Maker, please…Fenris…I just…I need…"Her hips rose to meet his as he worked in her. Her thighs clamped tight around his hips, nothing but a jumbled chant of Fenris' name mixed with the Maker could be recognised from the litany that spilled from her mouth. He redoubled his efforts, thrusting faster, deeper, harder, angling his hips so as to rub across her clit with his motions. "Yes! Oh Maker there! Just there!" She arched under him; he bent to catch a pert nipple between his teeth, biting softly and sucking hard. His name was the last thing she screamed out before her climax stole all her breath and noiselessly she spasmed and shook around him. His thrusts became erratic as he felt her orgasm around his cock. With one final thrust he emptied himself into her, biting her shoulder to quell his own yell of release. Bethany yelped at the pain but held onto him through it.

They lay naked in front of the fire in Fenris' drafty mansion for what seemed like an age. Neither one sleeping, nor talking. They merely laid in silence. Fenris had one hand tangled in her hair, Bethany clutching Fenris' arm with both hands. As the fire began to die, leaving only glowing embers, Bethany lay one final kiss on Fenris' shoulder and without a word stood up, retrieved her robe and headed for the staircase. Only when she paused at the door did Fenris turn to look at her.

"I…" she paused, "Marian must never know."

Fenris said nothing only inclined his head in agreement, with the lack of light it was hard to distinguish, but Bethany knew he would not go against her wishes. He listened to her soft footsteps as she descended the stairs and the foyer, the rustling of her robes as she replaced them on her now sated body. He heard the front door of the mansion close and moved himself to the bed on the opposite side of the room. He lay down and examined how his lyrium brands shone in the moonlight, trying to understand why this experience was so different.

His eyes drifted closed as he slipped into the fade and for the first time since he had met them he did not dream of Marian Hawke, but her sister, Bethany.