A/N: What's this, 2 chapters posted in less than 24 hours? Well, today I sat down to write a scene that was purely PWP (something I am generally incapable of), and finished it in under 2 hours. So here you go, have some porn!
Fenris awakes with a soft groan. Before his eyes have even opened, he is aware of how painfully hard he is, having dreamt of Hawke's soft lips around his cock. In his dream, they'd been in a crowded pub - not the Hanged Man, but one he'd never seen before. And Hawke had wanted him, then and there, had begged for him to take her for all to see. Dream Fenris had no qualms with performing in front of an audience - who was he to deny her of such an alluring request? Men cheered him on, encouraging him as he took her from behind, as if a plaything for all of their amusement. The dream ended abruptly with her mouth around his cock, her eyes pleading for him to coat her tongue with his release. And then it had ended, leaving him painfully aroused and unsatisfied.
Uncomfortably, Fenris turns on his side. Hawke sleeps soundly, her back to him as she faces the wall. To frustrate him further, at some point in the middle of the night, she'd thrown the covers off of herself, her thin white nightgown lifted, her ass exposed. She often went to bed without smalls, as many mornings they would start their day with a quick romp before carrying out their duties. It's always been a convenience. But now, her flesh taunts him, as if begging him to come hither.
He reaches out to touch her, but pulls back at the last moment. She is not awake. He's does not have her permission to touch, and she cannot consent to this while unconscious. Fenris nearly wakes her, but decides against it; she barely gets enough sleep as it is, Meredith and the entire city running her ragged at every opportunity. Her sleep is more important than his erection.
Fenris closes his eyes, willing sleep to come, but the blood refuses to leave his cock. His mind keeps flashing images of that dream - that horrible, repulsive, wonderful dream. It'd felt so surreal, he could practically feel her mouth around him, sucking him dry. He doesn't remember the faces of the bar patron's, but he remembers their voices. How they cheered when he pushed into her. How they asked him to come down her throat. Fenris' member throbs, the overwhelming need to find release unbearable. He needed to come, and he needed to come now.
He will be quick, he decides, pulling his cock free of his breeches. That first tentative squeeze of his hand around his shaft has him biting on his lower lip, desperate not to make a sound. He is careful that his movements are gentle and do not disturb Hawke, slowly palming his hand up and down his length.
As he continues to stroke himself, Fenris stares at her exposed flesh, wishing he could bury himself in her cheeks, to press against her wet heat until he slides into her velvet warmth. After awhile, he closes his eyes, mind wandering back to his dream, back to that bar where he degraded Hawke for his own needs. It's not the first time his mind has concocted images of her in demeaning scenarios that he would never put her in. Half the time, Fenris scolds himself for thinking such wretched thoughts about the woman he owes his life to. The other half of the time, he can't find it in himself to care. This seemed to be one of those times. It's not as if he has any control over where his mind went while he slept. And although he was awake now, he was simply letting his mind finish the dream on his own.
He pictures her as she was near the beginning of the dream, after he'd stripped her of her clothing and bent her over the table. He asked her to spread her cheeks for him, and watched as she parted herself for him, exposing her holes for him to inspect. Fenris gasps, remembering what it feels to push inside of her heat, to have her inner muscles grip him tight as he pumps into her again and again. The movements of his hand quicken, as he cannot find release with the slow measured strokes. Fenris sighs, his hand a poor substitute, but all the while bringing him jolts of pleasure with each stroke. The wet smacking sound of hand upon lubricated flesh fills the air, precome leaking from the weeping tip of his cock. If only it were her hole around him instead. If only -
"You need to come, don't you?" Hawke's voice breaks the silence, his fantasy slowly ebbing away as his heart drops, panic gripping his chest. Fenris lets out a slow breath, ready to explain away. Yet, when he opens his eyes, Hawke has not turned around to confront him, still facing the wall, her ass remaining exposed. In a breathy voice, she says, "Use me, make yourself come."
He springs forward as if a man possessed, mad with lust. One hand spreading her cheeks, her pushes against her to find her soaking wet. Just how long had she been awake and listening to him pleasure himself? Arousal courses through his veins as he feels the evidence of her desire, knowing that she becomes wet at the thought of him taking himself in hand. Fenris can't wait any longer. He enters her in one sure thrust, and she moans once he's seated inside.
There is nothing graceful about his movements, hips smacking into the swell of her ass. Hawke moans with wild abandon, and it surprises him just how aroused she is, with no effort on his part. Her hand busies itself between her thighs, rubbing that spot that will make her come undone around him. Fenris shuts his eyes and replays her words in his head as he thrusts into her. "Use me," she'd said. He's not sure what it is about the thought of her being there for his pleasure, but at the moment, he is too taken with the heat of her sex to give a damn about his principles. He could worry about it later. For now, all he knows is the tight heat around him, beckoning him to release inside of her.
Surely enough, with how worked up he's become, Fenris' movements begin to falter, his hips snapping forward erratically. He's nearly there, the suction of her core drawing him back in with every thrust. Lyrium lined fingers grasp at the swell of her hip.
"I'm going to fill you," he growls in her ear, and suddenly she is shuddering around him, toppling over the edge, his words igniting the fire in her belly. He crests with her, and as promised, Fenris empties inside of her.
Little waves of euphoric aftershocks convulse around him as he catches his breath. Fenris let's out a content rumble, removing himself from her warmth. A few moments later, before he can even check up on her, Hawke is snoring soundly beside him, never once having turned around during the entire time.
"Use me," she'd said. Something about the absence of eye contact and the lack of communication made the whole encounter all the more … authentic. He awoke, hard and wanting, she offered her hole to him, and once he was done, that was the end of it. He recognises the guilt, but before it can fester, he pushes it to the side. It was only pretend. Hawke said it was okay to pretend, and if Hawke was fine with it, then he would be too.
Pulling her hair out of the way, Fenris kisses the back of her neck, and settles in behind her, allowing sleep to claim him once again.