As their nervous steps carried them closer to the town, the reason for all the activity in the streets became clearer. Paper banners hung between houses and the distant trill of stringed instruments trickled through the waves of celebratory voices. Deep within the town center, trees were draped in red, orange and gold and a crowd gathered around a small procession of costumed dancers who waved fluttery lengths of ribbon high into the air. Avery felt her mouth drop open in wonderment, each advancing step seeming to bring her deeper into some sort of surreal, autumnal fantasy world.
"It looks like a Harvest Festival. We used to have these in Honnleath," Cullen said. His hand dropped hers and came up to rest comfortably upon her shoulders, squeezing her against his body. Avery happily let herself be drawn close, thrilling at the knowledge that there would be no hiding or sneaking around in this place.
"Perfect," Avery sighed, "hopefully we can just disappear into the festivities and no one will ask us too many questions." She hoped. Maker how she hoped. The last thing they needed was for this to come back and bite them in the ass somehow. "But do you think we should use our real names?"
Cullen thought quietly for a moment as they came to a stop at an arch in a wooden fence that seem to indicate the official entrance to the town. "I don't see why not," he said. "I don't know anyone outside of Kirkwall. You don't don't either. We can give false names to the Innkeeper though, just so no one has us on paper."
Avery nodded absentmindedly, her attention increasingly drawn by the idyllic scene before them. They wandered in at a leisurely pace, Cullen's desire for them to hurry apparently forgotten. Three blocks into the town and they came to a square that abutted a small, grassy park. On one side was a plaza that contained a row of market tables, and on the other was the elegant facade of the town chantry, its spire rising to a sharp point that towered over the expansive town center.
"This place is adorable," she said, feeling utterly charmed. "If it had cheeks, I would want to squeeze them."
Children ran gleefully down the streets around them while parents strolled calmly behind, munching on snacks pulled from small paper bags. A small quartet of musicians was set up in the park, next to the dancers. Cullen glanced down at Avery, his face relaxed and eyes bright. He leaned in for a kiss, their first kiss as an outed couple, and she melted joyfully into him, savoring the softness of his pillowy lips against hers. She let her hand slide up his lean torso as his arm over her shoulders grew heavier, claiming her possessively for all to see. She smiled against his lips, linking her free fingers into his as they slowly explored the jubilant streets of the town.
When they stopped at a bare expanse of park to listen to the instrumentalists play, the siren song of his warm scent was almost too much to bear, requiring a substantial effort not to nuzzle fully into his neck and let her hands roam to inappropriate places. She tried to satisfy that nagging urge to consume him by leaning in close, breathing the warmth off his skin, feasting her eyes over the delectable curve of his jaw, the perfect slope of his nose and brow. The dark circles under his eyes were almost gone and his skin had a healthy, golden glow. It was so rare to see him look so content and loose, and the effect on his mood seemed to come so quickly, as though they both truly had stepped into another world.
His eyes flicking down amusedly to hers, "Something on my face again?"
She laughed, "no, it's not that. It's… you just suddenly look… happy," she said. He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck with his free arm, his cheeks flushing almost imperceptibly.
"Well, this reminds me of home. It's nice. I haven't seen a Harvest Festival since before I joined the Order," he said, a twinge of sadness visible in his eyes, "And we're together. That makes me happy."
Avery sank even deeper against him, luxuriating in the solid warmth of his body. She had a sudden urge to kick off her boots and feel the grass between her toes. But the breeze in the air told her the grass would probably be cold, and her boot had a tall row of tediously worked laces.
"It's a shame you're going to be too occupied to enjoy much of the celebration," he said with a sly smirk.
She laughed again, feeling looser herself by the moment, "Oh? Is that so?"
"It is. If these are our last nights together I intend to make the most of every minute."
"Right," she said, her momentary joy abruptly eclipsed by the ever-present cloud of gloom, "our last nights."
The hand on her shoulder massaged gently and tried to slip down her arm but was stopped by the bulky pack still attached to her. She shrugged the pack off completely, letting it come to rest at her feet. Cullen did the same and stepped behind her, sliding both his arms around her waist and pulling her back into the cradle of his body. His chin rested on her shoulder, his nose gently blowing a rush of air past her ear, tickling loose strands of hair around her face. She closed her eyes and savored the sensation of being held.
"They will be our last nights though, won't they?" he whispered, "You probably won't want to… continue to take undue risks once we are back in Kirkwall."
The gloom grew rapidly, threating to swallow her up in its heavy darkness. She struggled to inhale, suddenly feeling like she couldn't breathe.
She opened her mouth to answer but couldn't seem to push any words out. It would be the right thing to do, the smart thing to do. The thing that would allow them both to live their lives with less fear. And it was going to happen anyway. If it happened on its own, the cost would simply be too high.
"Is this all on me then? You're willing to jeopardize your whole career, your life, and maybe mine too, to continue our secret? Is this a decision on my shoulders alone?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
He was quiet, his head dropping to rest against hers.
"No," he whispered. "No of course not. I am… I am just having a hard time looking past what's in my heart. This is the first time I have ever loved anyone like this… I have had crushes before, and infatuations, but this… with you, it's so different… I just can't even fathom…" His face pressed hard into the nook of her shoulder, "I don't want to…"
She squeezed her arms over his, bracing herself against him, trying not to crumple up into a despondent pile on the ground.
"But we should. You're right. I won't risk your safety… and I've worked too long and too hard to throw everything in my life away. If this is how it has to be…" he continued. "I hate it, but…"
"Look, let's not think about this here… if that's okay? We have so little time left to just enjoy each other. We can talk about it on the walk home or something but I… I just can't bear thinking about this right now. I can't bear the thought that…" her throat was suddenly seized by a sob, tears appearing instantly at the cusp of her eyes. She inexplicably found herself on the precipice of a wild panic, her stomach heaving and roiling. She struggled to press it down, to choke back the desire to give in to despair, her trembling hands flying up to press on her brow. She swallowed hard, blinking frantically to keep the tears out of her eyes.
"Hey," he whispered, squeezing tighter and turning her around to face him, pulling her close, "Okay, we don't have to talk about it. I'm sorry my love. I'm sorry." He kissed her gently and tenderly, sliding his thumb over the apple of her cheek. She pressed her face toward his hand, the weight in her chest reaching a crushing magnitude. She tried to breathe through it, taking deep breath after deep breath, slowly urging herself back away from the edge of an uncontrollable hysteria.
"I don't want to talk about it either. I just want to be here, with you. I'm sorry," he said again, his brown eyes shining wide and worried. She nodded, trying to shake off the feeling that she was drowning, that the air was too thick, too heavy, and tried to instead to forcefully empty her mind. She didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about it. If this was all they had, then this was all they had, but she didn't want to, couldn't bear to face that fact now, not until the last possible minute. Not until it was done and over and she was alone again, away from the prying eyes of people who wouldn't possibly understand.
She let her mind go blank as she focused on the physical sensations inundating her, trying to draw herself out of her head and away from the unexpected emotional onslaught. One of Cullen's hands on her cheek, the other resting heavy and warm on her waist. The firm swells of his chest brushing against her as she breathed, the taut muscles that rippled powerfully under her hands. The sweet song of the stringed instruments behind her, the deep, rich cello supporting the beautiful melody of the violins, and punctuated by the joyful voices of nearby revelers. There was laughter, the squeals of children, the breeze whispering through the dry leaves that clung for their last days to the treetops above them. And Cullen's scent, the seawater musk that smelled like love and safety and ecstasy and peace. She let the world outside of her swallow her up, removing her from the turbulent sea of her mind.
It worked, slowly bringing her back to a fragile equilibrium. She nodded again, taking another deep breath.
"Look, we're here, together and it's a beautiful day and I can hold you and kiss you wherever and whenever I want, and this town is adorable and there's music… and I love you," he said, running his hands comfortingly over her back and arms. "No matter what happens, I will still love you."
She sniffled, the tears welling up behind her eyes again. He picked up her hand and brought it to his chest, laying it over the quickened thumping of his heart.
"Do you feel that? It's yours, Avery," he whispered. A hot tear dripped down her cheek and she sniffled again.
"Damn it. That's beautiful, but it isn't helping," she said, laughing softly despite herself. "If you want to make this easier then stop saying such sweet things."
"Okay." He smiled sadly and wiped the tear off her cheek, "How about I just shut up and hold you then?"
She nodded again and melted down into his arms, letting him bear the weight of her body as she slumped forward, dampening his linen tunic with her tear-stained cheeks. "I love you too Cullen," she breathed into his chest.
They lingered through several songs, and Avery eventually turned around to watch the musicians again, her body quickly absorbed back against Cullen's chest. His hands grazed lightly up and down her arm and she rested her head within the nook shoulder, able to turn and find his welcoming lips in a mere second. Slowly she found a sense of peace again, her inner turmoil quieting and giving over incrementally to a simple gratitude. Things could be so much worse. Things could be better too; Jorah and Sadie could still be alive. But she and Cullen could still be back in Kirkwall. She could have been anywhere other than walking past the compound at just the right moment to be able to step in and offer an explanation to Meredith for Cullen's absence. They could have been discovered and brought to an end already, a much harsher and more abrupt end, with no time for goodbyes or last nights, or brief escapes from their life. All things considered, their current location and taste of freedom was no less than an absolute gift.
She sighed, resolving not to let them get too mired down in more sadness just yet. At least not until they are on their way home. Not until they walk through the doors of Kirkwall and have to say a real goodbye.
Eventually, the instrumentalists put down their bows and stood to stretch, apparently taking an intermission. Cullen joined them, arching his back and groaning as he nuzzled into her hair.
"If you don't mind," he began, his voice decisive and clear, "I'd like to visit the market tables for a moment, and then go get ourselves settled in a room. And maybe take that bath."
She nodded, slipping out of his grasp to replace her pack and take another deep breath of the cool, green scented air. He took her hand and led her gently off the grass and toward the market tables, watching her carefully with every step. She cast him a reassuring smile and quietly cursed herself for her outburst. Try a little harder to keep it together Avery. Don't ruin your last days with hysterics.
They approached the market tables and he led her directly to the Trinketmonger, positioning himself behind her and whispering into her ear. "So. What ring would my wife like to wear as a symbol of our union?"
She looked sharply over to him, surprised and confused. "I beg your pardon?"
"It wouldn't hurt to have a little bit of a back story going for us, would it?" he asked with a gentle smile. "I'm thinking newlyweds, just passing through on the way to… somewhere. Who cares. But at least as newlyweds no one will be surprised by the sounds coming from our room at all hours of the day and night."
Avery laughed and gave a little shrug, "Okay. If you insist."
"I do. The ring is a crucial part of such a story, is it not? So we should spare no expense in getting it right," he nodded toward the table, urging her to look. Avery took in a kaleidoscope of precious gems, overwhelmed by the numerous colorful options. As the offer sunk in she realized clearly that the truth was that she'd be happy with any of them. It wasn't the ring itself that mattered, it was what the ring meant, story or no story. "Would my wife like something jeweled? Maybe something aquamarine to match the crystalline blue of her eyes?" He purred into her ear. She found the aquamarine ring and picked it up. The band was a size too small, and the stone protruded too far out for her comfort. She could just imagine it getting caught on her clothing, tangling up in her hair. Or his hair. She put it back.
"Or maybe something with rubies, to match her gorgeous lips after they've spent an entire night being kissed," he continued and she quickly spotted found the ruby ring. The stone was entirely too large, and would attract all kinds of questions back at Kirkwall. If she was going to to allow Cullen to gift her a ring, she wanted something she'd never have to take off, that wouldn't call attention to itself.
"Or perhaps a simple silver band?" His voice was low and sultry over her shoulder, "Something practical and strong. Especially considering that even the most extravagant jewel here will only pale in comparison to her beauty anyway. It's a little unfair, really." She snorted, sweeping her eyes across the table. Her attention was caught by a flash of a honey brown color in the top corner of the table, likely a piece completely overlooked by most patrons.
"This one," she said decisively as she picked it up. It was a simple silver band, its surface inlaid with a smooth, flat strip of burnished amber. She held it up to his face and compared the ring to his eyes. Not only was the color an almost perfect match, but it glinted with changing shades, running the gamut from a bright gold to a deep umber depending on the angle from which it was viewed. It was perfect.
She moved to slip it onto her finger and his voice came again, sharp and quiet, "Wait. Let me be the one to put it on you. But not here. Do you think it will fit?"
"Yes. I'm certain it should," she answered breathlessly, feeling a growing exhilaration as she held the delicate piece in the palm of her hand. "You need one too."
"I do, don't I? Well I have always been partial to hematite," he continued. "But that has a tendency to break."
"I'm surprised you are partial to jewelry at all Knight-Ca… er, I mean," she smiled, "husband." All remnants of her emotional attack was purged from her system now, and all that seemed to remain was a giddy heart swelling with love. His hands lingered warmly on her waist, caressing and kneading into her.
"Well, the Order doesn't approve of such vanities. I will wear this as long as I can though. For you." He pressed a quick kiss behind her ear. He picked a band of two strips of matte metal that were braided together, passing over and under repeatedly, curling around each other throughout the full circle of the ring. "I think I like this one. These could be you and me," he said running his finger lightly along the curving strips. "Two separate pieces, intertwined and joined, exactly as we should be."
Avery's heart fluttered hard against her breastbone, and it was all she could not to throw Cullen to the ground and climb on top of him. She sighed, her cheeks beginning to ache.
After taking their coin, the merchant directed them to their town's nicest Inn several blocks away and Cullen clasped her hand, pulling her along with a deep flash of his amber eyes.
All that was left was a single room, and it happened to be the Inn's largest and most expensive. The Innkeeper, a matronly older woman named Greta, passed them a key with an effusive welcome and a knowing smile in response to the news that they were newlyweds. But Avery was disappointed to learn that the tub was currently in use, and there were two others who had already requested it once it was finished. It should probably be ready around sundown, Greta kindly informed them, if they wanted to enjoy the town's festivities until then.
Cullen and Avery climbed the stairs to the third floor, opening the wooden door to an expansive, well appointed room that boasted a large, canopied bed and a set of double doors that lead to a private balcony overlooking the bustling street below. In front of the fireplace lay a thick, luxurious rug, and in the corner was a table that held a bowl of glistening pears and apples. A porcelain wash basin, a stack of white towels and an oversized cask of water adorned a solid wooden countertop that sat in another corner. The last corner was occupied by an antique standing mirror, its elongated, round surface situated within an ornately carved and polished wooden frame. Avery sighed, dropping her pack and throwing herself down on the soft mattress of the bed. She pressed her face down into the comforter as she listened to Cullen's steps around the room, slipping off his own pack and rustling quietly through his belongings.
Within moments Cullen's hands were sliding heavily up the back of her legs, his body crawling up the bed to stretch out beside her. She turned to face him and found his eyes fixed radiantly on her, the two rings clinking softly together in the cradle of his palm. He reached for her left hand and held it for a moment.
"I wish that these were real," he said quietly.
She swallowed, a lump of lead suddenly present and heavy in her throat. "Aren't they though?"
"Well," he paused a moment and gave a soft laugh. "They aren't imaginary. But you know what I mean."
She nodded, smiling sadly, and he began sliding the amber jewel up the length of her ring finger. "But I do love you. If things were different… if I wasn't bound to the Order…"
Avery braced herself for the end of the sentence, realizing weakly that she couldn't bear to hear it. Instead she pressed forward, absorbing any further attempts to speak with her lips as she felt around his palm for the remaining ring. She broke her kiss and tenderly slid it into place on his hand, lacing her fingers through his and squeezing. He opened his mouth to speak again and she surged forward to take his mouth, sliding her tongue against his and tasting the sweet, immediate urgency of his returned kiss.
She kept her mouth sealed to his through the rising swell of heartache in her chest, pulling him closer and settling her body flush against his, trying to smother out all the flames of painful emotion. She unleashed her hands, searching him hungrily, sliding up the back of his tunic and consuming the smooth heat of his skin, the muscled contours of his shoulders. She raked her nails down his back until they came to the top of his breeches and she burrowed her fingertips beneath his waist band, pushing the obstructive fabric down, seeking out the graceful swells of his buttocks. Cullen shifted, gliding the length of his body up until it was settled fully top of her, his hips sliding into place between her legs as one strong hand cupped the back of her head. It quickly became clear that the fire of arousal that had scorched through them both at earlier points in the day had never fully died, but had only simmered quietly, ready to be rekindled at the faintest spark. Cullen's kisses grew in force and desperation, his hands pawing at her clothes as his hips grinded slowly against hers. His breeches were quickly drawn taut, a solid bulge nestling sweetly against her throbbing sex and she bucked against it, her own dormant desire blooming and igniting, quickly finding itself fully inflamed as she mewled quietly into his mouth.
But she knew there was still the dried blood to consider. She felt it every time she tried to comb her fingers through her own hair, or his. And the hidden spots of splatter pulled on the tiny follicles of her neck, and under the collar of her tunic, raising sharp prickles of discomfort. But since Cullen was making no move to cover her neck with kisses in his usual manner, she tried to put it out of her mind, concentrating only on the searing kiss he was delivering onto her mouth, the soft, skilled lips that were holding her in desperate, euphoric thrall.
Though she realized she could smell it faintly, the metallic tang of death still clinging to their skin. It stalled her desperation enough to let her thoughts break through again, but the insistent need pulsing through their legs demanded to be sated. She had no desire to push him away for the third time that morning. She only wanted to please him, to see him brought to the peak of pleasure, to be as generous with her body as he had been with his own. She realized quietly that there was one spot the blood spatter could not have reached and she put her hands up to his chest, suckling on his tongue and lips, bringing the kiss to a soft closure.
"Stand up," she whispered. He tilted his head in a confusion, but began pulling back, obeying without resistance. He came to a stand beside the bed and she swung her legs over the edge, seeing that the height of the bed was perfect for performing the act in her favorite manner. She quickly began undoing the laces of his breeches as she pressed her face into his crotch, inhaling the slightest waft of the musk of aroused male through the fabric. She nipped gently at the outline of the firm shaft, hastening the movements of her fingers as his tangled gently through her hair.
"You don't have to…" he whispered. She pulled way just long enough to pull his breeches and smalls down his legs, exposing the thick, solid mass that stood proudly out from within its nest of copper curls. In a blink it was in her mouth, pressed as deeply within as she could manage, her tongue swirling lazily over the ridges etched around the solid head and he groaned, his hips bucking forward slightly. She slid one hand between his thighs, snaking it all the way through and then up to cup and squeeze a generous buttock. His groan turned into a quiet whine as she slid her fingertips along the cleft of his buttocks, teasing up and down the warm crease that separated his perfectly round cheeks. She plunged his cock deeply into her mouth, breathing in his erotic musk, letting her throat relax and open, the way she had learned to from Anders' skillfull instruction. Cullen gasped when she pulled away abruptly, and she rolled deliberately over to her back on the bed, letting her head rest just at the edge of the mattress so that she was looking at him from an upside down vantage point.
She grasped his hips with both hands and pulled him back in again, letting her head fall back to make a her mouth and neck into a perfectly aligned channel. She took him in again, her eyes feasting on the round bollocks and firm cheeks that lie tantalizingly behind his engorged shaft. With her hands still clutching the sharp protrusions of his hips, she pulled him deeper than ever, keeping her throat relaxed and loose to stifle her gag reflex, feeling every detail of his perfectly shaped cock with her tongue. She urged him to move within her, trying to guide his thrusts in and out, showing him the depth that she could take, her jaw wide and taut as she eagerly suckled on the satiny skin over his solid thickness.
"Oh Maker…" he sighed, his voice drawn shrill as she brought him fully back into her mouth. "Oh… fuck… Avery…."
The throbbing bundle of nerves between her legs began to sing as he grunted and moaned, the sound of his voice saturated more and more with need. Finally she released his hips, letting him control the speed of his thrusts and he continued along, bucking gently against her lips. His body curled forward as one hand landed heavy on her breast, and then began pulling on her tunic. Her hips squirmed, her clitoris stiff and aching to be touched, and she slid a hand down her belly, reaching for the laces of her own breeches, quickly pulling the flaps loose. He groaned again as his hand pulled her tunic up her body, and then fumbled around in an attempt to remove the band keeping him from the mounds of her breasts. He stopped to try to free her body from the constraints of her clothing, keeping his cock buried to the hilt in her mouth as he worked at the fabric on her torso. She tensed her tongue against the underside of his shaft, suckling forcefully while gyrating and swirling her tongue.
"Oh Maker!" he cried again in response, his roving hands pausing as sensation seized his body. She almost smiled around his cock, reveling in his reaction to her mouth, in the urgency in his voice. Finally her fingers reached her sex, sliding deep circles around the nub of aching, throbbing nerves at the apex of her slit and then her body jerked as a ripping sound pealed through the air and the scraps of her tunic and breastband fluttered off to the side. One broad hand grasped her breast, squeezing and cupping, while the other slid down her stomach to the waist of her breeches and finally he resumed his thrusting into her mouth, each stroke eliciting a desperate, raspy groan from the depths of his throat.
"Fuck, Avery…" he rumbled through heavy breaths. She suckled hard as his hand finally joined hers in her breeches, his fingers probing within the slickness of her folds, curling under to enter her, teasing a long moan from her own throat.
"Maker!" he breathed again as her moan hummed against his shaft. His thrusts picked up speed, sliding evenly in and out of her mouth, saliva trickling down her cheeks as his groans grew in their urgency. His hand left the inner sanctum of her breeches and pushed the fabric down, trying to tear it away from her hips. Not wanting to lose yet more clothing she helped the breeches along, sliding them down to her thighs and exposing the raw, aching cleft of her sex. She let his hand take over for her own, melting back into the realization that his fingers now knew exactly where to press and how to expertly build her up to her own incinerating release. He strummed the strings of her nerves gingerly, hitting just the right notes the way a musician plays his instrument, one long, elegant finger sliding up and down her slit with just enough pressure in the right places, and she couldn't help but buck against his hand, letting loose more of her own moans. The more she moaned, the more he tensed, his cock vibrating into the softness at the back of her mouth. She brought up her newly freed hands, using one to circle and cup the soft flesh of his bollocks, the other to slide up his thighs and explore the voluptuous curves of his cheeks. Her finger, still moistened from her own sex, slid easily into the crease of his buttocks following along the firm bulge of flesh within his perineum, and landing slick and centered right on the bud of his rear. She swirled her finger around it, loosening the taut ring of flesh before breaching gently with just her fingertip, massaging lazy circles as she advanced incrementally into his hot depths.
At the moment of entry, his moans reached a fever pitch and his hands grasped down hard, his fingers at her sex pushing deep into her, palming the entirety of her mound while his other hand pinched the tip of her nipple until a delicious shock of pain pierced down her torso.
"I'm coming love…" he panted as his hips tensed, pausing a moment to allow her to pull away. Avery tightened the suction on his shaft and slid her finger deeper into him, humming low against his cock and turning his moan into a gutteral, urgent yell.
"Fuck! Avery!" he gasped as he emptied into her throat, his cock throbbing and twitching as her mouth was flooded with a hot, salty liquid. She swallowed, sucking it down eagerly, milking every last drop from him as he arched and unleashed, his hips pulsing gently with his release, his fingers digging hard into her flesh as his chest heaved. His voice became a series of uncontrolled sobs, sputtering and gasping, distracting her from her own building climax.
Finally his body uncoiled and he slipped out of her mouth, his hands leaving her slick folds and dragging away as he stopped to gaze down at her with wide, black eyes. He was panting for air, his cheeks flushed and damp, speckled and glistening with sweat.
"Maker's Breath, love," he croaked. "How did you… I've never…" he cleared his throat and smiled languidly as he dropped to his knees, peppering her temples with kisses and caressing through her hair.
"That was…" he paused abruptly, his brows furrowing in disapproval, "wait, you didn't come, did you?"
She shook her head, her fingers trailing back down to her sex. "Not yet," she gasped, filling her lungs with sweet breaths of air. "I can take care of that, though," she offered, unable to keep her pleased grin off her lips. Maker, she would remember the sounds he'd just made until her dying day.
"No you don't!" he cried as he kicked his breeches off over his boots and stepped around to the side of the bed. She sat up on her elbows, watching curiously as he grabbed her hips with a roguish grin, and tugged her body toward the side of the bed, positioning her so that her her hips rested right at the edge.
"I can't believe I haven't tasted you yet," he growled as he pulled her breeches over her boots with a single, swift motion and plunged deeply into the folds of her sex. The stiffened tip of his tongue immediately found the throbbing nub at the same time that his lips formed a tight seal and sucked. Her back arched at the immediate peal of intense sensation and she groaned as he pushed her thighs forward, opening the full length of her to him. His mouth left her nub and traveled downward, his tongue thrusting into her contracting channel, lapping voraciously as soft mewls escaped his own throat.
"You taste so fucking sweet," he gasped as he pushed her thighs forward more, his tongue sliding out of her and traveling further back, finding the sensitive opening between her cheeks and tonguing it eagerly. He slid back up to her apex and groaned hungrily, his voice buzzing against her aching pearl, sounding as though he was savoring a delectable treat.
"Maker!" she gasped at the deft ministrations of his mouth. His tongue swirled around her sizzling sex and then pulled away to bite gently at the flesh of her buttocks. She sighed, groaning, writhing, her body aching and desperate. His tongue found her slit again, sliding back up to her nub as dual fingers simultaneously pressed upon her two ready entrances. The suction on her aching pearl increased, his tongue teasing rivers of growing sensation out of her nerves, flames of need rippling under her skin as his fingers worked slowly deeper, curling and pulsing against the tender places inside her. She wound her fingers into his hair as he began to thrust in and out, drawing out an incinerating buzz of pleasure that built higher and higher, dragging her toward an imminent, mind melting explosion. She bucked into his mouth, following behind the movements of his tongue and his hands, chasing that perfect intensity of friction, and finding it, holding it, guiding it into blissful harmony with her body's hunger.
She looked down between her heaving breasts to see his bright amber eyes staring intently back at her, sparking with a deep, lustful gratification. She held his gaze as she felt the wave of sensation cresting quickly, building high and piling over her head, readying itself to crash down and shake every cell loose from her body. He must have sensed her closeness, heard the climbing note of urgency in her moans as his tongue increased in speed and force, flicking, swirling, pressing and lapping, guiding her into a shuddering inferno. Her vision went white, flooded out by a blinding display of colors as her back arched, her body raging with a delicious climax, her nipples tingling and her inner walls clamping and contracting against his firm, curling fingers. Colors became sounds, sounds became sensations, oozing like honey over the electrified wall of her flesh. She sighed, her ecstasy peaking and stringing her high and frenzied as wave after wave of pleasure shuddered through her. She pressed hard against him as the wave of feeling crashed and slowly began to wane, his suction on her quivering mound turning to kisses, and then a playful nip and tug on her labia.
She lay quietly in recovery as time turned into liquid, and rolled her eyes open in time to see him prowl up her body and pull away the tattered remains of her tunic and breastband. He suckled gently on one tingling nipple and then kissed up her chest before coming to rest beside her, pulling her up onto the bed and wrapping her in the warm bulk of his arms.
Avery sighed contentedly, her body loose and drained, the salt of his seed still clinging to the back of her throat. She opened her eyes to see him watching her face with a grin. She closed them again, nuzzling contentedly against him, her body and heart full to the point of bursting.
She hadn't even realized she was slipping away into sleep until Cullen's body jerked violently beside her. She woke immediately, turning toward him, ready to offer whatever comfort he needed, only to find his eyes already open, blinking away sleep. She pressed her hand into his chest, her eye caught by the flash of amber on her finger and she smiled despite her concern.
"Cullen?" she asked.
"I'm fine, love," he whispered reassuringly. She twisted her body so she could look comfortably up into his face, only for their awkward state of dress to be brought to her attention. She was entirely naked, except for the presence of her knee high boots, while he wore only his boots and his linen tunic. She searched his face for a moment, reassuring herself further that whatever woke him was receding from his thoughts and was heartened to see his lips curl into an amused smile as he observed the remnants of their lustful disarray.
It was still fully light, their nap apparently brief but seemingly restorative. As she eyed the glassy double doors she was sure that any passersby on the street had to have heard them. Especially Cullen, his cries rising to a volume that had probably been audible for blocks.
She snaked a leg through his and pushed herself up to settle upon his chest, resting her chin on the back of her hand as she peered quietly up into his face. He stroked at her hair and caressed her cheek, his hand dropping down to finger her amber band as his smile spread slowly.
"I had no idea that, uh… mouths were capable of that… sort of thing," he said eventually, his eyes glinting. "I mean that was different than just the usual sort of… that…at least that I've ever felt." He stopped, his cheeks flushing pink. "Do you… enjoy doing it?"
She laughed softly. "Absolutely. Anything that makes you come that hard I definitely enjoy." Their boots clacked together as she slid her leg in further, luxuriating in the warm skin of his thighs. "I might have a few other tricks up my sleeve as well…"
He fingered a tendril of her hair, looking beatifically into her face. "Oh do you?"
"Perhaps," she teased, wondering if he might allow her to use her magic. Ever since Anders had taught her his electricity trick, she'd delighted in any opportunity to use it, not that there'd been many since. Only Anders and Fenris, and Anders was so much better at it so she usually left it to him. She'd been nervous about the possibility of using magic to please a Templar, but there were very few boundaries left between them already.
"I don't need any tricks, love. I only need you."
She smiled, nuzzling her nose between into his chest and inhaling deeply before peppering kisses all over the front of his tunic. She slipped her fingers up the bottom of the loose fabric, tracing the defined ridges of his abdomen and curling her fingers around the soft whorls of hair below his navel.
"Well I hope you have an extra one of these, because you ripped the only one I had," she smiled as she tugged lightly on his tunic. "I'm not going to have any clothes left to wear out of the room at this rate."
He laughed quietly. "I do have an extra, but you'll swim in it."
Avery shrugged. "I'll make do. I'm sure it won't be on for long anyway. Maybe you could rip some of your own clothes off for a change."
His smile relaxed as his eyes deepened, growing full and soulful, his lids drooping heavily over vivid amber isises.
"I love you," he purred quietly. Her own smile receded as she plunged into the stormy depths of his eyes, wanting to climb in and soothe every pain within his soul, wanting to wrap herself completely in the essence of him and drown there. She tried to stop her mind from going to the place it instinctively sought in response to the looming absence of him, to resist the dark well of sadness that drew her to it like some sick inverse of a bright flame drawing an insect.
"I love you too."