When he left the Chantry the sun was high in the sky, hidden – for the moment – behind a veil of spotted clouds. It was a beautiful day, the much needed sunlight bringing warmth to Kirkwall's weary corners. No need for a cloak. ...No excuses of foul weather today. Sebastian Vael moved with purposeful strides in his short trek across Hightown, his chin held high but his palms damp with anticipation. This could wait no longer. There was much to be done, now that the Prince of Starkhaven had decided to take back his throne, but this needed to come first. He lifted his gaze to find himself already nearing Hawke's estate, and when a brisk wind blew through the vacant streets around him, he gave pause. The moment of hesitation nearly undid him, giving his mind all the time it needed to begin tearing away at that wall of confidence he had built before leaving. A sudden weight on his shoulders kept his feet planted firmly outside of her door as he anxiously ran his hands through his hair, inhaling and exhaling deeply when his heart began to race.
Nine years. It was difficult to believe so much time had passed since he first saw her descending those stairs... Yet even harder to grasp was all his inaction. For nine years now this girl has teased him, tested him, and all but torn apart his sanity; but in truth, he knew that Hawke had only ever wanted the same thing that he did... and it was his own damn fault he never did anything about it. And now... What if he'd lost his chance? If he had done this right all along, who knows where they might have been? She could have been waiting for him under different circumstances… waiting for him to come home to her…
No more waiting. No more running, and no more hiding. Maker knows those tactics never got him any answers before. In one swift motion, Sebastian opened her door and stepped inside.
The interior hadn't changed much since he broke in… and the thought was beyond shameful. But before he could dwell any further on his own shortcomings, he was surprised to find that he was not immediately greeted by Hawke's – rather terrifying – mabari. Instead the royal archer smiled when he found the furry beast sprawled on his back, asleep by the fireplace. As gently and quietly as he could, he knelt at the edge of the foyer to set aside his bow and arrows. Perhaps the war dog felt no threat by the scent of a familiar presence, he shrugged. …Was it wrong to have let himself in like that?
Sebastian's blue eyes wandered around the elegantly decorated estate, impressed by much of the detail that had been hidden from view when he had only a single candle to light his previous visit. The main room on the lower floor was immaculate, adorned with rare oddities and trinkets they had acquired in their travels. He looked to his left and noticed the bag of wares and the trunk of enchanting tools belonging to Bodhan and his boy, Sandal. It was then, he noted with a raised brow, that neither the dwarves nor Orana were anywhere to be found. Surely it was not so early in the day that he had come when they were all still asleep?
He observed, with one final glance around the mansion, that Hawke's house had a very cozy feel to it. It was warm, inviting… Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and breathed it in – that familiar and mind numbing scent that was uniquely hers... Sweet spices...and honey… like a warm day in autumn… Sebastian swayed slightly. Her room at the Blooming Rose had smelled similar. Beneath all the rich perfumes and incense that hung in the air of that awful place, there was a scent there that was…only her. And she, herself, had been like a treasure – a rare gem hidden away from the world, in the last place anyone would have thought to look… His eyes traveled up the flight of stairs and rested on the door he knew was hers, willing his tentative feet forward and moving in a state that was somewhere between dazed and dreaming.
His heart was beating fast now, his senses reeling from an onslaught of memory after memory. Every thought of her brought with it a sickly and sweet burning, feelings branded in him like fire upon his flesh. Conversations played over and over again in his mind – some recent, some from a lifetime ago. Visions and images faded in and out – some real, some invented by his torturous subconscious – all recollections of experiences with her… Inside and out, in every way possible, she was still perfect in his eyes; and he would not leave here today until she knew it. With footsteps as light as his breathing, he stopped outside her door when he found it slightly ajar.
It was wrong to intrude like this. True, he had been invited, but no one knew he was here yet, and she could be all sorts of indecent or ill-prepared... His blood froze when the soft sound of her sigh reached his ears, every ounce of air escaping his lungs when it was followed by the splashing of water. Before he could stop himself, he had moved the door open to peer inside.
Maker's breath... She was bathing.
Amidst the steamy vapors rising from the water in her tub, he could see her – her glistening body slick and wet as she ran a soft sponge over her shoulders and arms. Facing away from him she leaned forward, causing some of the bathwater to splash around her. Her long dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun, bits of loose, wet strands clinging to her face and neck. Sebastian drew in a shuddering breath, watching as she arched her back in order to reach around and wash every inch of her beautiful skin… Never in his miserable life had he seen such a breathtaking sight.
Whether from the heat in the room or the rising heat to his face he began to feel dizzy, leaning forward to brace himself against the wooden doorframe in a white-knuckle grip. Willing his eyes shut, he hung his head and clenched his teeth, feeling himself strain against the confines of his armor. His skin was on fire, his fingertips aching to reach out and touch her, help her reach all the places that she could not… In his minds eye he could see her, her eyes dark and full of desire as she lay beneath him, coaxing him… wanting him…
A strangled cry escaped his parted lips as he pulled his eyes open but kept his gaze on the floor. He had seen her naked before. For Andraste's sake, they had slept together before… But it was only once… and it was so long ago…
"Wait…"
He opened his eyes and looked down at her, her cheeks flushed and her hair tousled from their exertions. Alight with a newfound uncertainty and fear, her emerald eyes pierced his soul and begged to him, an unspoken wish. Their labored breathing and slick bodies were mere details, all fading away in the distance. Looking into her eyes, Sebastian almost forgot how to breathe.
"…Be gentle," she whispered.
But he had rushed it. He had taken it all for granted because it was the only time they were supposed to have been together. He had no idea, back then, the role she would come to play. He would never in a million years have guessed that the petite beauty from the Blooming Rose, who captured his attention all those years ago, would be the one to avenge his family, make such an impact in his life, or become the closest fried he'd ever had. Or perhaps… Maybe that was what scared him so much, that night he left her. He realized then how quickly he'd come to care for her... And here she was again, the only person who truly knew him, understood his past, looked past his flaws to help him with his present, and believed in him enough to fight for his future. Here, now, in that moment, he could not see their struggles, could no longer feel the effects of the damage they may have inflicted on one another… All he could see, through the mist and candlelight, was her… Just her.
Another soft sound reached his ears and he shook his head in an attempt to lift the fog over his mind, realizing that this time it was a gasp. Peaking down at his feet, which had unknowingly betrayed him during his poorly timed daydream, he found himself standing fully inside of her room.
"Maker's breath, Sebastian!" she huffed, standing quickly from the water and wrapping a towel around her exposed body to cover herself up.
Still lost in a daze, he swallowed thickly, fingers twitching, when he'd caught a good eyeful of her round backside.
"Surely you haven't forgotten how to knock!"
Stepping out of the tub, Hawke strode to the side of her bed, face flush and eyes averted. When he did not respond, she peaked up at him from beneath her dark lashes, her green eyes bright with a storm of emotions before she tore her gaze away again.
"I…" 'Say something. Anything…' "You… wanted to talk to me?" Smooth. Just ignore that you were caught watching her bathe.
She sighed, pulling her hair free from the twisted knot and letting it cascade down her bare shoulders and back. The sight was entrancing.
"At least let me get dressed," she muttered angrily. "And shut the door."
He cleared his throat and obliged without hesitation. Yet, ever the fool, it was without thinking that he turned around and shut the door – with him still inside.
Her exasperated sigh faded in the brief moment of awkward silence that stretched between them. All that could be heard were the sounds of shuffling clothing, the soft scraping of metal, and the snaps of fastened leather before she announced, rather suddenly, "I… wanted to talk to you about what happened in Darktown, with Anders."
"…You wanted to discuss the apostate?" The choice of topic was unexpected, to say the least, and Sebastian raised an incredulous brow he knew she could not see.
She met his tone defiantly. "Anders is a good man, despite what you think."
"The man's a lunatic, Hawke!" he shouted over his shoulder. "The only thing he cares about is freeing maleficarum and spreading panic and chaos." He didn't know why, but every nerve in him twitched to find the man and beat the life out of him. There were so many more important things the two of them should have been discussing.
"He saved Bethany from the Deep Roads!" she reminded him, her footsteps approaching him from behind. "And he's been a good friend to me. Neither you nor I are mages, so we can't exactly speak of their plight like we know what's going on…"
He turned around to find her wearing the Champions Armor that had been commissioned for her after the Qunari battle, daggers equipped at her back. With her hair pulled back into a high ponytail, she was adorned head to toe in red, black, and brown and covered in leather straps. As always, she looked stunning.
She crossed her arms and pinned him with a glare. "He's just fighting for what he believes in."
"No matter the cost. He's dangerous, Hawke," he pleaded, hoping she would see reason.
"He's no more of a danger than my sister was! I get that your views mirror the Chantry's, that all magic is a sin meant to be purged and cleansed."
"You know that's not true." He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "Mage or not, I hold no such prejudices and cast judgment only on choice and character. You know me better than that."
"I'll tell you what I do know…" She approached him again to jab a finger at his armored chest. "I know that you're just as stubborn, pig-headed, and infuriating to argue with as the day I-"
But his lips were on hers before she could finish.
The bridge was crossed, and there was no going back.
Her eyes widened, her verbal resistance muffled by his lips pushing gently against hers.
With all the self-control he could muster, he slowly pulled back to meet her gaze, finding anger giving way to confusion, which slowly melted into pain and…something else. Beyond that broken threshold was something more, an unspoken wish hidden away within those beautiful emerald depths – a feeling he knew that they both shared. He opened his mouth to offer her words that needed saying, but found himself drowning in her taste again before he could speak.
She gripped his hair painfully as she parted her lips, giving him all the invitation he needed to claim her tongue with his own. Inhaling deeply, he breathed in her mind-numbing scent as he crushed her to his body, hands wandering over her face, neck and back as she pressed herself against him. Without warning, her two hands on his chest pushed him back; and he looked up to find a furrowed brow battling reason with her heated gaze.
He took a step backward when she marched up to him, mindful of the door at his back. Her eyes were ablaze and indiscernible. "…What's gotten into you?" she half-shouted, her voice breathless as she shoved him into her door, his armor smacking against it with a loud thud. "Are you trying to confuse me?" Her hands gripped his chest piece and pulled him to her, crushing her lips against his once again. He muttered a "No" in response to her question, but words seemed lost to both their ears.
Like a starved man he grabbed the sides of her face and held her to him, tilting his head and satisfying his thirst until air became a necessity. She moaned softly into his lips, her fingernails digging into the skin at his neck. The sensation alone brought chills up and down his spine, and he turned them around and pressed his body against her, pinning her lithe frame against the door and hoisting her up as a hand ran through her dark hair and pulled it free from its binding. Using his teeth, he sucked and nibbled on her lower lip, and she eagerly complied with his ministrations, wrapping her legs around his waist. Only now were they becoming vaguely aware that they were both wearing too much armor, but the awareness was doing little to stave off the intensity and the heat growing between them.
"Your vows are terribly convenient," she hissed, grabbing his head when he began kissing her neck.
Grabbing hold of her, he leaned his head against her chest and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath and find some fragment of self-control. "It's not like that," he tried to explain, pulling back to gently set her down. Their faces were flushed, lips swollen, and yet beneath the returning awareness the fire between them was far from extinguished.
"Then what is it like?" she asked, stepping away on shaken legs to avoid his gaze and stare out the small opening in her curtains. "I'm not a whore anymore. I haven't been for awhile."
"I made no such insinuation…" He reached for her shoulder but she shrugged his hand away violently.
"Then stop playing with me!" She faced him with fire in her eyes, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "It was hard to forget you, Sebastian. You broke my heart when you left, and you broke it again when I found you but couldn't have you!" Her eyes shimmered with fresh tears. "I've tried hard to respect your vows, to stay friends, just like you wanted, but-"
"I never wanted it," he told her simply, taking a bold step forward.
His answer seemed to derail her. "…What? Don't give me that. We both know-"
"Please Hawke. Just… hear me out."
She pouted, taking up a defensive stance as he approached her, brows furrowed and eyes distrusting. So guarded… And the knowledge that he was the cause of it made his heart wrench painfully inside his chest. He knew this wouldn't be easy. Where they'd been had left both of them burned, had built up a wall of anger and bitterness… He knew it would be hard for her, seeing past it and letting it all go, but somebody needed to back down. He would be the person they both needed him to be. He would not turn from her now. Not ever again.
Her green eyes were searching his when he closed the last bit of distance between them. Squeezing her arms lightly, he dipped his head down slowly and gently touched his lips to her soft cheek – a fond gesture and a memory – and he hoped with every fiber of his being that she would feel it. He then reached for her hand and lifted her knuckles beneath his lips, planting another familiar kiss upon her heated skin. She did not pull away, and no words fell from her parted lips. Instead, her intense gaze told him all of her fears, spoke softly all of her hopes.
"Words themselves could never express my regret, my grief for my mistakes, or my most humble apologies." His eyes met hers, offering her the same measure of honesty she had always granted him. "But I've been waiting, too long..."
"For what?" she asked suddenly, almost jumping at the sound of her own voice.
As gentle as he could be, he brought his hand up to cup her face as he held her gaze. "To make up for lost time." The pad of his thumb gently stroked the side of her cheek. "To help you fight your battles, so that you never have to be alone again."
"Sebastian…" Her voice was breathless, barely above a whisper. "…What are you saying?"
He smiled softly as he stared into her eyes. "I'm saying that I'm a fool, spent of my life of defiance – that I'm sorry it took ending up here to say what needed saying all along…" With a feather-light touch, he brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. "Since the moment I first met you," he grinned, "feisty, flustered, and nerve-wrecked, you found a way into my head and an even quicker way into my heart."
Eyes softening, she leaned into his touch, and his heart soared. "A sentiment I too shared… with the curious, charming, and smug son of a mysterious, wealthy family." The light smile that had made its way onto her face began to fade as she looked up at him in earnest. "What about the Chantry? What changed? You say you never wanted us to only be…friends, yet you never put up a fight before when I first suggested it."
He looked thoughtful a moment. "Do you remember the conversation we had, the night you returned from the Deep Roads?"
She nodded slowly. "…Briefly."
"You asked me why I never sought you out all that time, knowing you'd been in Kirkwall. And I told you that I didn't know whether to blame fear, stubbornness, or immaturity," he shook his head. "But I regretted it, nonetheless. And I don't intend to let my fear or my indecision let another chance of happiness slip away from me again."
When she did not respond, he put a gentle knuckle beneath her chin to pull her gaze back to his.
"Would you hear my confession?" Sebastian's voice was light, and she could not help but smirk at his play-on-words.
"I hardly think I have the credentials for that," she joked, a light blush growing on her cheeks.
"It was difficult, at first, deciding what I wanted." He smiled down at her when she peaked up at him from beneath her dark lashes. "But I've had a lot of time to think about it – far too much time – but I know now what it is. In fact…I've known for quite some time."
She seemed afraid to ask, but found her voice. "…And what is that?"
"You," he breathed, taking both her hands in his. "Mara Hawke, I love you." Her mouth fell open as a small gasp passed between her lips, her eyes glistening in the firelight and drawing him in. "I won't spend another day wishing or regretting. No more restless nights or empty mornings, and no more fleeting moments to suffice for our encounters." He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "I refuse to live a life without you by my side."
It was difficult to tell, then, whether or not he was still standing. This daze felt more like a waking dream now. He barely registered from the hand now resting on her shoulder that she was trembling. Closing her eyes briefly, she drew in a shaky breath. And a small smile graced her beautiful lips. "Your vows… I… Are you saying-"
"Princes are not meant for chastity," he grinned. "And when I return to Starkhaven, I'd prefer it be with my future bride. Will you-"
But her lips were on his before he could finish.
Inhaling deeply, she pulled back and smiled. "Admitting to be a fool didn't hurt your case much," she chuckled softly.
"Is that a yes?" he grinned, holding her close as his gaze fell to her lips.
"Yes." She met his eyes, her gaze darkening. "But… you really have a lot of time to make up for…"
The look in her eyes sent a white-hot sensation coursing through his veins, waves of goose bumps rising over his skin. It was like being consumed in fire and electricity all at once. Years of isolation and pent up feelings seemed to burst from their seams, and a deep chuckle sounded in his throat.
"Trust me, sweetling," She squeaked in surprise when he drew her even closer to him, sliding his hand behind her neck. "I intend to do."
Running the pad of his thumb along her lower lip this time, he smirked, causing a terrifying and exhilarating chill to run down her spine. It was a familiar look, a hungry gaze she had seen, once upon a time. Only this time, Hawke smiled, there was something more, something stronger and deeper hidden within the darkening depths of his beautiful blue eyes.
Only he had ever done this to her, only her foreign admirer, her blushing Chantry brother, and her charming prince. His name fell from her lips in a whisper, "Sebastian…"
With a controlled tenderness in his intense grip, he tilted her head to the side and dipped his head down to capture her lips. All else forgotten, she succumbed to his offer and without hesitation parted her lips, ever so slightly. It was all that he needed to claim her tongue with his own, warm and inviting as she sighed into him and threw her arms over his neck. He responded immediately, running his fingers through her soft hair and tugging lightly to pull her in and drown in her sweet taste and her soft whimpers, holding desperately to a memory – and now, a moment – that neither wanted to ever let go of.
Hawke barely had time to register what was happening when his warm hands covered her own and he broke the kiss, the searing gaze of his unabashed longing causing her legs to weaken and pools of warmth to spread throughout her body when he pulled her with him. Not once did he break eye contact until he had her pressed against the edge of her mattress, shaking his head as he surveyed her clothing.
"You, my love, are wearing far too much for my tastes…"
One of his hands slid underneath her thigh as he pushed her back, admiring the smooth texture of the leather on her pants before giving her round bottom a desperate squeeze. The other, previously entangled in her chestnut-colored locks, slowly massaged its way down her neck and shoulder, square-tipped fingers sliding along her collarbone and stopping at the fabric of her chest piece.
"Believe me," she breathed, "If I'd have known this is why you were coming over, I'd have simply stayed in the bath…" She reached one of her legs up and rubbed it along his inner thigh, earning a low moan that inwardly bolstered her actions. "Besides," she grinned wickedly as she sat up in front of him. "I've spent many nights alone, dreaming of relieving you of this armor…" Her delicate fingers ran beneath his belt. "Why spoil the fun?"
His voice was low, his brogue thick. "Then by all means…" He stepped back to give her the space she needed, raising his arms in surrender. "This night is yours. As am I. I owe you that much, I think."
She stood slowly, meeting the heat of his smoldering gaze and matching it with her own. "That and so much more…"
Like a lion stalking its prey, she circled him once, spurred by that trademark smirk of his. She had longed to see it, every time she teased him, innocently tormented him… She'd wanted to see that look he had given freely to her, all those years ago – the one that spoke darkly to her, promised an endless night of pleasure, putting her imagination to shame and fulfilling her deepest innermost desires…
His lips parted as he watched her, his blue eyes entranced by her graceful movements as she reached for the straps on his shoulders. "Enjoy your games while you can, love," he whispered. "For my unspoken desires will beget more than tender caresses and playful banter, I promise you that."
His words were like fire, kindling the burning she already felt within and she fought hard to keep control of herself, forcing down the building rush of need and biting her lower lip as she met his eyes again. With steady hands, she slid her fingertips along his chest plate. "If only I'd known…" she purred, "Your secrets would have been safe with me." She leaned up to run the tip of her tongue along the shell of his ear as she began freeing his left shoulder of its armor. "I'd have pushed you just a little further…" Her delicate fingers slid against his belt buckle.
He swallowed thickly, his hands clenched tight at his side when she knelt before him and slowly reached her fingers around each of his legs and removed the metal protecting his knees and shins. She looked up from beneath him, illuminated by the light of her fireplace and innocently batting her lashes while her hands unclasped his belt.
"I assure you I am paying the price for my negligence," he groaned. "Were it not for my willpower I'd have you undone," He breathed deeply as he watched her. "But I am a man of my word, and this game is yours to play."
"Is it now?" She grinned wickedly. "Well I wouldn't be me if I didn't put such willpower to the test…"
Sebastian's eyes followed her every move, gently setting aside his white armor plating before she stood and moved to the buckles of his chainmail coat.
"I heard similar claims of prowess from a brazen young man I knew, many years ago," she teased. "But never from the pious Chantry brother before me."
"If only you knew…" His remaining armor fell to the wooden floor with a thud. "The sinful thoughts of my prayers and confessions…" He gripped her arms suddenly and spun her around so that her back was flush against him, his evident arousal pressed against her from beneath his clothing.
"Sebastian," she hissed, grinding her hips against him and running a hand through his hair to grip at his neck. She tossed her head to the side when his mouth found the crook of her neck, his tongue working tricks he apparently had not forgotten. His hands began their quick work of unbuckling and discarding every strap of leather and metal adorning her and leaving it all in discarded piles amongst his own armor.
"Cruel temptress," he growled, nipping lightly just below her throat. Using both hands, he roughly yanked free her entire top, turning her back around to face him and exposing long-forgotten flesh to his hungry eyes. "You have no idea what you've done to me," his words were low and sensual as he brought them back to the edge of her mattress, "What you still do to me…" His warm breath fanned out across her breasts, generously rising and falling with every gasp of air. He pulled back to admire her toned, golden skin, so radiant in the firelight of her darkened room, her face clearly flushed as her eyes followed his exploring hands.
Worrying her lower lip between her teeth she studied him, watched his hands and eyes wander all over her body, half-exposed to the chilling air. She slid her tongue across her bottom lip as she reached bold and practiced hands out to pull his tunic over his head and slide her fingertips along his chiseled muscles, wanting to re-learn every inch of him. She watched his eyes darken when her fingers stopped along his waistline and slowly circled around his back before sliding up and hooking inside his doeskin trews and pulling him forward. Offering him a coy smile, she locked her green eyes with his blue ones and leaned up to capture his lips in a soft caress, grinding against him and drawing him in further.
"Why didn't we do this more often?" she whispered in between rough kisses. Gripping his hair tightly, her legs surrendered beneath her and she brought him down with her to the mattress.
"A mistake I intend to make up for," he breathed huskily, crushing his lips to hers, "Every night…" Meeting her lips with all the force of his need, he pressed himself further against her. "Every morning…" Looking down at her, he pulled back slightly to peel away the rest of her clothes. "I will show you pleasure you could never begin to imagine."
His mouth explored her naked chest and she buried her right hand in his auburn hair, bucking hard against him and bringing her other hand to her mouth to bite lightly on the skin of her knuckle. She could not think, could not reason... All was lost to her when she felt his soft lips meet the heat of her skin.
"Don't hold back," he commanded, grabbing both of her hands and pinning them above her head. "No one is here." His tongue circled her flesh once before flicking across her hardened nipple. "I want to hear every sound that passes through your lips." Holding her wrists in one hand with little effort, he slid his other hand down to cup her soft breast while he took the other in his mouth. His square-tipped fingers splayed over her chest and gripped her ribcage before slowly sliding down beneath her pants and underclothes.
He leaned forward, bracing himself on his one elbow and pinning her lithe body beneath his, the heat of their skin meeting and sending them both further into oblivion. In wild abandon he bit down at the juncture of her neck, sliding his fingers between her legs without warning and shoving them inside her. Her cries of pleasure only spurred his actions, and he added a third finger while his thumb found her swollen pearl. "I want to hear you beg my name," his deep brogue whispered. "Tell me what you want me to do," he ground his hips roughly against her so that she could feel his need.
"Sebastian," she breathed, her voice light and her breaths coming in desperate pants when his hand quickened its pace. She arched her back, pushing into him further, knowing she was nearing her peak. When she did not respond, however, his actions slowed and she opened her eyes to find that smug, knowing grin on his face.
She knew he wanted her to submit. Her body was trembling, but her mind fought madly against it. Control was something they both sought here. And she had pride to match his own.
Smiling devilishly, she leaned up and pressed her fingertips against his pectoral muscle, feeling his erratic heartbeat within. She slid free of his hold and, with practiced dexterity, flipped around so that he was beneath her, propped on his elbows while she slid silently off the bed.
His eyes were fixed on her as she carefully removed his boots and his pants, leaving him in nothing but his smallclothes. Slowly, she stood and stretched, leaving much for his hungry eyes to view as she spun around and locked gazes with him from over her shoulder. Twisting her hands around the edges of her pants, she never broke eye contact as she bent over and slid her remaining clothes down her legs. Satisfied with his audible gasp for air, she kicked her garments aside and grabbed one of her daggers, sauntering back to the edge of her bed and nudging his legs apart. Gripping her single blade and turning it once in her hand, she leaned forward and cut through the cloth of his smalls. She smirked at his wide-eyed stare and tossed her weapon aside, running her nails along the tops of his thighs and tearing the ruined clothing away.
Never once breaking their gaze, she took him in both hands. "My Prince is rendered speechless…" she grinned, and lowered her mouth to take in his entire length.
His breath hitched, a low, guttural moan escaping his throat as he fell back and gripped at her bed sheets. Now it was her turn to take the reigns once more. Her left hand gripped the base of his erection while the right stroked him with her mouth, and she reveled in every twitch and every pulse from her actions. She stopped once to circle the tip with her tongue, and the sound of her whispered name passing through his ragged breaths was like music to her ears. Gripping him tighter, she swelled with excitement at her victory; but his hands on her shoulders abruptly pulled her up and had her beneath him.
"You think you've won this little game, do you?" his husky voice sounded in her ears as his hands gripped her hips and yanked her to her knees. Bringing a hand up her round backside, he gave her a quick spank for good measure before setting himself at her warm, slick entrance.
Sliding against her opening, she surprised him then by leaning back and taking every inch of him inside her. His surprised gasp was drowned out by her cry of pleasure; and with a triumphant smirk, he grabbed her hips and thrust into her again. Waves of satisfaction consumed them both, and his head fell back as her warmth surrounded him, molded to fit him, and he fell forward against her as she met every one of his thrusts with a roll of her hips.
Their breathing was heavy, sweat forming in tiny beads across their heated bodies as they moved together. Another cry of surrender left her lips, but their game was lost to him now, just as it was surely lost to her. Memories, words and feelings, all melted away until there was only this moment, and he promised himself again that it would not be their last. This night would be the first of many where he could show her, let her feel just how much he wanted her, how much he needed her…
He slowed his movements, pulling out of her for only a second and sharing in her disappointed moan at the loss of warmth. Strong hands lifted her gently, turned her over so that he could look at her. Lying on her back, her eyes found his as she fought to control her soft breaths. The warmth in her gaze spoke all of the feelings that words could never say.
"You were my first…" Her smile was heard in her soft voice. "I never would have changed it."
As he lowered himself down, bracing his weight on his elbows so as not to hurt her, he ran his fingertips down the side of her face.
"And you were my last…" When he entered her again he held her gaze with all the love that he could offer. "I intend to keep it that way."
Mirroring his movements, she set her fingertips against the skin of his cheek. "I love you," she whispered, and sealed her claim with a slow, passionate kiss that put writers and poets to shame.
She arched her back as he pushed into her, again and again, never breaking their kiss and neither letting go of their hold on one another. The feeling of wholeness, of completion moved them in ways that could never be described, and in an effort to make sure that it wasn't a dream, they strengthened their grip. Breaking the kiss, Sebastian dropped his head to her chest as her body clenched around his, bringing him to his release as waves of pleasure racked their bodies and brought them to that height of blissful ecstasy before gently setting them down again.
His labored breaths warmed her already searing skin, and time was lost to them both as they lay there, finding their minds and not quite willing to move their numbed bodies. The sounds of the crackling fire were the only things to ground their senses in her dimly lit room; but the smell, feel, and taste of her was soaked into him, and as she ran her gentle fingers through his hair, Sebastian had never known a more beautiful peace in his entire life.
In the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware that the world was still moving, that life and duty still called for his attention, but for the moment, everything was right. He rolled to the side and took her with him in his arms, cradling her petite body against his and breathing in her perfect scent. His perfect, fiery little duelist. His future bride. His love…
A/N: Yay! :D The moment we've all been waiting for! (Rated 'M' for a reason…) ^^ I hope you all enjoyed it.
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Enjoy and stay tuned!