A/N: Here is the intended second one-shot to this AndersxHawke fic.

As I said before...

Anyways, this takes place during the Gallows period. I swear to fucking god that part of the game was weak as shit. No crazy sex before the coming battle? Not even a kiss? WHAT?

*insert rant here*

I hope you all have enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it.

P.S. Keeps spoilers to a minimum in reviews for others, thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own bioware/EA or any of it's characters. Unfortunately.

"Without justice and love, peace will always be the great illusion." - Archbishop Hélder Pessoa Câmara

Anders paced up and down the halls of the Gallows. So much on his mind. He had not been expecting Hawke to side with the Mages, but who was he kidding? She was an Apostate as well and wanted freedom as much as the rest of them. Though the bigger surprise was her letting him live, he thought maybe he'd blown it, seen the last of her. But the compassion in her eyes and in her gentle touch as she placed her hand on his shoulder and told him she needed him had filled him with overwhelming love. Anders shivered slightly. God how he wanted her, needed her. He wasn't sure if it was him or Vengeance that demanded that he take her, all of her. But he would not deny himself the pleasure. Not tonight when the next day they would fight for their freedom and their lives hanged on the line. No. He would take this one last night to show her how he craved her, desired her, loved her. Anders ran his hand through his hair as he approached the door to the room Hawke was staying in. Was she already asleep? Should he just leave her alone? Anders reached out and lightly knocked on the door.

"Come in." he heard Hawke's voice call and images of her waiting for him naked on the bed filled his mind and pushed him forward. He opened the door to see Hawke looking out a window, she seemed to be looking at the full moon. The light did her curves justice and he wanted to walk right up to her and take her right then and there. Instead he went up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and swept her against him, raining kisses along her shoulder, his heart leaping in his chest and then settling into a steady rhythm.

"I should of trusted you. Even with all we've shared. I never thought you'd spare my life." Anders said his lips lightly brushing against her ear. He could feel the tension that wrecked her body and he wasn't sure if it was because she was still angry at him for not telling him what he had planned, or if it was just the fact that he had come to apologize.

"If we live through this...you know I'll be hunted. No one in Kirkwall will offer me mercy. But...if you would join me...I'd rather be on the run with you then safe with anyone else." he told her his arms holding her even tighter against him, possessively almost. His heart lept out of his chest at her next words,

"Then we will be fugitives together." she said looking over her shoulder and up at him, and he knew then that they would stay together no matter what.

"We will fight for a world where our children can be born Mages and free."

"I would like that very much, Anders." Hawke whispered, her lips a sinful temptation.

Hawke buried her face against Ander's throat, circling her arms around his neck. She wanted to touch him, inspect every inch of his body.

"I intend to give you anything you want."

The velvet caress in his voice sent a shiver running through her body.

"I don't know how you managed to get around all my defenses, Anders, but you have."

His slow smile made her heart nearly stop. Hawke turned pulling away from him as she walked towards the bed.

"You take my breath away, woman." She did a whole lot more than that. His body hardened and thickened with every step she took. With her mind firmly merged with his, knowing she was thinking along the same lines as he was only heightened the ache. He swung around and pulled her to him, kissing her hard, his tongue sliding into her mouth to tangle and dance and reclaim her all over again.

Hawke recognized the hint of desperation wrapped in the hunger. She pulled back, smoothing his hair. "What is it?"

Her voice. The way she effortlessly slipped inside his head, surrounding him with warmth and comfort, enveloping him in love-he felt it now, where it hadn't been before. He didn't know what he'd done to earn it, but he was grateful.

"I'm just worried we won't make it out of the coming battle alive." he admitted and was taken back when she laughed.

"You think I will be defeated? Me the mighty Champion of Kirkwall with my oh-so-sexy dangerous Apostate boyfriend by my side?" she asked smiling brightly. He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes briefly, inhaling her scent. She felt the involuntary shudder that went through him. Her fingers stroked and caressed his hair, slid down to his shoulders and arms, and then back up. Every touch was meant to share, to soothe. His Hawke. There was no one else like her. He caught her chin and bent his head to fasten his mouth to hers. She leaned into him, her soft body pliant, fitting him perfectly.

He smiled, his sinfully sexy smirk that seemed to burn slow and mean through her entire body. "I have plans to provide service all night. Did I mention I love your shirt?" His hands went to the leather straps circling her neck. The golden leather fell so that the soft jersey drape dipped even lower. It had skimmed the swell of her breasts, but now her nipples peeked out at him. "Oh, yeah, I like this top," he reiterated and bent his head to flick each nipple with his tongue.

She shivered as his hair slid over her skin, a fall of desert silk she couldn't help invading with her fingers. "Take your Robes off, Anders."

He stepped back, bringing her hands to the buttons. "You take it off for me." His black eyes seemed to scorch her skin.

Hawke slid the buttons aside one at a time, and with each one, her lungs became a little more labored. She used her palms, fingers splayed wide on his chest, to push the shirt aside and up and over his broad shoulders. She tugged it off and let it fall. His skin glowed in the dancing firelight. God, he was beautiful. Built like a man should be built. If that made her shallow, then all right, she'd accept that. She ran her palms over the defined muscles of his chest and then down to his six-pack and narrow waist. Above her head, his features were strong-his jaw, his nose, the high cheekbones. He kept his chin up, looking over her head as she leaned in to press kisses along every delineated muscle.

"You will need to remove my shoes before you can my trousers," he pointed out.

Her heart jumped and she glanced up at him through her lashes, but he continued to study a spot above her head. She moistened her lips and crouched down to untie his shoes. She knew he could simply do it himself, but she didn't want him to and maybe he was reading that in her mind. She wanted the sensual discovery of unwrapping his body, a gift, a treasure, just for her.

He lifted his foot and let her slip off his shoe and sock, her fingers lingering on his skin, stroking his ankle and up his calf, before going to the next shoe. She set them aside and knelt up to reach for the waistband of his trousers. Her Amell top slipped further down to pool around her waist, leaving her breasts exposed. The cool air tightened her nipples even more, but Hawke found it erotic to be kneeling in front of him, half-clothed, her breasts spilling out while he stood waiting for her to undress him.

Anders's breath caught in his lungs. She was so beautiful, looking up at him that way, so seductive she was lucky he had enough control to give her whatever she wanted, because right now, he wanted to just lift her up and bury himself in her. She wanted to play. He watched the tip of her tongue moisten her full lower lip, drawing his attention to her mouth. She was inches away from the thick bulge in his trousers. He was separated from paradise only by that thin layer of material, already stretched to the maximum.

He closed his eyes briefly as he felt her fingers dance around the opening and then slowly peel the material aside. His erection sprung out, large and pulsing with need. Her cheek brushed the ultra sensitive head as she drew down his trousers, urging him to step out of them. Her fingers brushed back up his leg, inside his thigh, and then she cupped his balls in her hands. His breath left his lungs in a long rush. His cock jerked as she blew warm air over him, her lips barely brushing the broad tip.

He caught a fistful of hair and tugged, drawing her head up. "Lie across the bed for me."

"But I wanted..."

"I'll give you what you want. Do this for me."

Slowly, his gaze holding hers, she sank down onto the mattress. He pulled her legs across the bed sideways and gently pressed on her shoulder until she slowly lay back, her head at the very edge of the bed, hair falling toward the floor. Very gently he removed her boots and set them beside his shoes. The feel of his strong hands moving down her calves sent little tingles of excitement racing through her bloodstream. He tugged at her pants until she lifted her bottom and let him slide them off. She was left draped across the bed with her top pooled around her rib cage.

Anders moved around to the side of the bed where her head was, caught her shoulders and tugged until her neck was off the bed and her head was tipped back. Her breasts thrust invitingly into the air, her nipples twin tight peaks begging for his attention.

Hawke's heart jumped. She felt a little vulnerable and exposed in this position. The moon's light played lovingly over her body, almost spotlighting her. She could feel the moisture gathering between her legs, and every single nerve ending was alive with anticipation.

He spread his legs, taking a wide stance as he towered over her. His cock was engorged, thick and long, his balls smooth and tight. "Reach back for me," he instructed, his eyes on her mouth.

Her body trembled with the sudden desire to please him. To have him. To make him burn for her. He made her feel so sexy and wanted, with just a look, a brush of his gaze. She reached both arms back to cup his balls, to draw her fingernails lightly over his tight sac to memorize the texture and shape. The air left his body in a hiss and she smiled, running her tongue along her teeth. He wanted to be in control, but the brush of her fingertips, the light squeeze of her hands, the small flick of her tongue as she brought him to her mouth told her she had far more power over his body than she'd first thought.

He murmured something graphic, stepping even closer, his hands finding her hair. "Slide down a little more now, Hawke. That's it. That's what I want. You can take so much more of me this way."

Her head was back, throat arched, breasts thrust upward, her body laid out like a feast. To stay in control, he circled the base of his shaft with one hand and pushed the head against her waiting mouth, teasing her lips. Her tongue flicked out, and she did a long, slow lick, curling it at the end, like she was scooping ice cream out of a cone.

She made him wait. A heartbeat. Two. The world stood still. Time faltered and his heart lurched. Her mouth engulfed him like a silken glove, slid over his cock, her tongue swirling under the head and up over it, teasing and darting around while she suckled.

His hips jerked. A sound escaped, something suspiciously close to a rough growl. Pleasure burst through him, rushing like a drug through his system. More than pleasure. Love. With his cock in her mouth, he doubted he should have been feeling anything but lust, but maybe love drove his lust for her, because he couldn't imagine another woman more beautiful, or sexier. He couldn't imagine feeling this desire, so intense it was a wild storm crashing through him, for anyone else. His breath exploded out of his lungs. His body shuddered as the fire raced up his spine.

She ran another long, slow lick up and down the shaft, watching him, watching his reaction. He felt her in his mind, sharing the fire, sharing each wave of sensation she created as she drew him back deeper, her mouth hot and tight.

She took him into her mouth, a long, slow draw, keeping her mouth tight, her tongue flat while she applied pressure and then whipped her head up fast, meeting his thrust, taking him deeper, so that streaks of fire spread through his groin.

Hawke felt her body going up in flames. Her breasts were swollen and aching, begging for attention. The junction between her legs throbbed and was drenched with heat. He was making rough sounds of pleasure, each one vibrating through her, so that the walls of her sheath contracted and rippled and begged for mercy. He was tugging at her hair with each thrust as he began to lose his control, pulling her toward him as his thrusts deepened.

"Harder," he encouraged.

She felt him swelling and knew by his husky groan he was close. She couldn't move, locked beneath him, his hands controlling her head, the short, tight movements as her mouth moved up and down his shaft. He directed the arch of her neck, allowing her to take more of him.

"Relax your throat for me," he instructed, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. "Yes. Like that. Like that. Squeeze down." The thrusts were faster now, short and hard, but he used the leverage to go deeper, the tugs on her hair sending pulses of pleasure shooting through her body.

"You have to stop, Hawke." His voice was hardly his own, so gravelly, on the edge of desperation. Because he couldn't. Because even though he locked her down in the traditional way of his kind, he couldn't leave that hot, moist cavern, so tight as she suckled at him. It was such a carnal pleasure to indulge in, to be indulged. "Stop before it's too late."

Where had that thought come from? Why did he have such a desire to hold her still while he plunged in and out of her incredible mouth?

Hawke wanted him, all of him, was desperate for him. She felt like a woman on the brink of sanity, starving for what he had to offer. His cock thickened. Jerked. Grew hot and full. There was something terribly erotic about lying all sprawled out, held tightly in place, knowing she was pushing him past all control, even as he was controlling her. Anders thrust hard, his hands rough now, his cock jerking, the hot jets of semen exploding into her. It was the way of the man to dominate, and looking up at him, she could see the amber lights flickering in the black depths of his eyes.

He reached for her breasts, his fingers tugging at her nipples while her mouth pulled at him. Without warning, he simply bent over her, his long body covering hers, and buried his face between her thighs. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Her body bucked and writhed as his tongue stabbed deep. She was forced to turn her head and release him, and all he did was crawl up her body and pull her hips up to his marauding mouth. Her vision blurred. Her body belonged to him. To his hands and mouth and the long, muscled length of him.

"I want your heart and soul."

The whisper would have stolen her last defense if she'd had any. "You have them."

"You are safe in my keeping." And she was. As long as he lived and breathed, beyond that even, he would protect and cherish her.

His tongue found slick heat, warm honey, and he indulged himself, holding her there easily while he took what he wanted. Her hips bucked, her breath came in sobs, as he devoured her. Her body was primed for him, already shuddering with her first climax, and he was throwing her into the second one with the dancing of his fingers over and in her. She cried out his name, music to him, the soft, ragged, breathy sound, barely audible when she ground against him in an attempt to get relief. Her releases only added to the pressure building, forever building until she was chanting, Please, please, please.

Anders raised his head and pulled her around to him, lifting her upright into his arms, pushing up with his body while he held her until he was standing. "Wrap your legs around my waist, Hawke." His voice was rough and mesmerizing.

"I don't have any strength." She didn't, her arms and legs heavy, her body still shaking from the series of orgasms. Even so, she locked her fingers on his shoulders while she circled his body with her legs.

"I have the strength for both of us. Just hold on, Hawke."

She locked her ankles and closed her eyes as he lowered her over him. The broad head of his cock drove through her soft, tight folds, the friction on her already-sensitive nerve endings making her cry out and bury her face against him. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered. "It's too much, every time, too much."

How could she survive when her body was already in meltdown? Her need seemed unrelenting, the pressure building and building as he withdrew and her muscles tried to grip and hold him to her.

Andrs caught her hair and pulled her head up so he could find her mouth with his. He needed to kiss her. To feel part of her, to be inside of her. He looked into her eyes and saw need there, hot and yet filled with such love. His heart jerked in his chest, and he kissed her again, using a gentle rhythm to entice her to ride him. His hands gripped her bottom, lifting her, showing her, feeling the silken heat flash through him when her muscles clamped down.

So hot. A searing fire streaking up his cock and spreading to every inch of his body. The primitive need to possess her was a dark lust that wouldn't-couldn't-be stopped. Heat, lust, love, passion and arousal all mingled together as the bite of her muscles clamped around him and silken walls tightened until he was strangling somewhere between pleasure and pain.

Anders shifted again, tipping her back onto the bed so he was bent over her, watching them come together, watching her body stretch impossibly to accommodate his. The sight of her body accepting his was so erotic it shook him. Her tight sheath was velvet soft but scorching, so that he lost his ability to think, to control, until he was pumping into her, deeper and deeper, while the white-hot pleasure burst around him.

She rose to meet every drive of his hips, every thrust and surge, urging him to a harder, faster ride, until he felt her release ripping through her like a firestorm-catching him up in the vortex, sucking and milking while streaks of lightning raced over his cock and he exploded deep inside her, jet after jet pulsing while her body gripped him hard. He lay over her for a long while, gasping her name, stroking her back, fighting for control when his body no longer belonged to him.

Gently he lifted her all the way onto the bed and lay down beside her, his legs too weak to hold him up any longer. She burrowed close to him, her arms around his neck, her breasts pressed against him, body still shuddering with pleasure.

"I think I am alive," he said, faint humor in his voice.

"I'm not." She was tired. Exhausted, but every time he shifted, her body reacted.

He moved against her, his mouth trailing down her throat to the swell of her breast. She arched closer, but he merely flicked her breast with his tongue, pulling back as he rolled over.

She lay in silence for a long while, listening to the combined rhythm of their heartbeats. Finally she propped herself up onto her elbow, levering up onto her side so she could look at him.

"I love you, Anders."

"I love you too, Hawke."

She weaved her fingers through his looking deep into his eyes.

"Promise me no matter what, we'll stay together."

"I promise."