A/N: This chapter is basically all fluff. Enjoy!
Chapter 10
Fire
"Am I strong enough
To follow the desire
That burns from within?
To push away my fear?
To stand where I'm afraid?"
—"I Am the Fire," Halestorm
Katerina went looking for Dorian a few days later. Dance lessons had begun with a friend of Leliana's acting as the instructor, and she needed a partner. She'd quietly waylaid the messenger to the Commander, telling him not to disturb the general. She still hadn't spoken with him since sending the teas and she wasn't eager to hear him bark at her again. They had been sent against his wishes in a moment of stubbornness—something she regretted immensely now, despite the good they might do. The Commander's silence told her everything she needed to know.
Or so she thought when she came upon her companion in the garden, boasting of his imminent triumph. She followed the sound of his voice and faltered at the unlikely scene. Dorian was lounging elegantly while the exact man she was trying to avoid smirked at him over a chessboard.
"Gloat all you like," the general shot at the northern mage. "I have this one."
"Are you sassing me, Commander?" Dorian asked, fanning himself with one long hand. "I didn't know you had it in you."
Cullen mumbled something to himself before noticing her approach. He rushed to his feet, surprise slackening his face and allowing her to see something flash over his eyes before it vanished.
"Leaving, are you?" Dorian asked, not bothering to rise at his friend's appearance. "Does this mean I win?"
The general sat back down heavily, glowering at the mage. "That's not going to work again."
The other man ignored him, extending a hand to Katerina and drawing her near. She allowed it, patting his cheek fondly after he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. He'd been stuck in time with her, traveled to the Fade with her, and their easy rapport had only grown. All the way back from Adamant, Dorian had been at her side cajoling her to eat, distracting her from Cassandra's glowers and the whispers of doubt surrounding the Wardens. He'd even allied himself with the Iron Bull to keep Blackwall away from the Inquisitor—she'd wanted to hear his crass jokes about as much as she'd wanted another lecture from the Seeker.
Dorian truly was too good to her.
"Are you two playing nice?" she asked, bumping his shoulder with her hip.
"I'm always nice." Dorian shot the Commander a searing look and grinned when he saw the way he stared at the Inquisitor like a lovelorn fool. "You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You'll feel much better."
The Inquisitor snorted at his arrogant teasing and examined the board as Dorian made his move. The two men were evenly matched, it seemed. She forced herself to take it in, watching as a dark gloved hand reached out to move a black piece. It took everything she had not to look at the man that hand belonged to.
"Really?" Cullen asked, laughing proudly as he sat back utterly at ease. "Because I just won, and I feel fine."
"Don't get smug. There'll be no living with you," the other man said, rising at last to stride away from his defeat. "Did you need something, kitten?"
"Yes, for you to wrangle Varric and Cassandra into dance lessons for the Winter Palace," Kat said tiredly. "They're impossibly stubborn and I can't fight with them anymore."
"Stubborn? No, you don't say. Leave it to me, I'll have the Bull carry them there if I must." He lifted her chin to inspect her face, nodding encouragingly at whatever he found there. "You take a rest—Maker knows you've earned it. Perhaps our Commander can help you unspool a bit."
With a jaunty wave, the mage wandered off to do as she'd asked. The weariness was still there, rimming her eyes with red, though she did her best to hide it with subtle touches of kohl and rouge. He'd also noticed the way the Commander tried to catch her gaze and the Inquisitor's stubborn determination to look everywhere else. But it was a beautiful day, and Dorian hoped their competitive natures could thaw things between them—he had a bet to win, after all.
"I should return to my duties as well…"
Dorian heard the general say and he whipped about to shake his head vehemently at him, waving at the man to stay and pointing at the Inquisitor. He bit down on a frustrated shout when the fool made to rise, stopping only when he saw the mage's violent gesticulations.
"Unless you would care for a game?" the Commander finished lamely, eyes darting from the man to the Inquisitor shifting before him.
She finally looked at him, mouth forming a little 'oh' of surprise at his gentle tone and open smile. The sunlight filtered through the leaves of green and gold, the dappled light making him look impossibly golden. His complexion was healthier—still fair, but no longer sallow—and his cheeks were a bit fuller. All told, he looked healthy and not unhappy.
With a nod, she moved to take Dorian's seat. "Prepare the board, Commander."
Cullen rewarded her with a smile while his hands moved to do just that, easily setting the board to rights. "As a child, I played this with my sister. She would get this stuck-up grin whenever she won—which was all the time."
His eyes practically glowed as he shot her a lopsided grin over the table. Katerina made her first move, watching him as he spoke of his family. It was the happiest she'd seen him in a while. Since before she'd left for the Exalted Plains, she realized.
"My brother and I practiced together for weeks. The look on her face the day I finally won. Between serving with the templars and the Inquisition, I haven't seen them in years. I wonder if she still plays…" He sent out his own pawn and sat back, his smile fading as the weight of the last years settled about him like a second cloak.
"You have siblings?" she asked, trying to prod him back to that happier mood.
The grin he shot her at her curiosity was enough to set loose a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. "Two sisters and a brother."
"Where are they now?" She moved another piece and waited for the answer.
"They moved to South Reach after the Blight. I don't write them as often as I should." He glanced down at the board when her eyes flitted away from him again, though the way she nibbled her lip did not go unnoticed. "Ah, it's my turn."
"Let's see what you've got."
He made his next pass and stared hard at the board as her fingers hovered over the pieces. "Thank you for the teas. They've been… incredibly helpful."
"I'm glad," she demurred. The ivory piece clicked against the board, a sharp staccato to the rustling leaves and faint hum of prayer from the other side of the garden.
"Yes, I pulled my head out of my ass and realized just how beneficial they are." He shot her a wicked grin at that, shamelessly reminding her of the pointed note she'd sent. Cullen laughed as she flushed a deep shade of pink at that.
She dropped her head into her hand at his teasing. Katerina had hoped the note wouldn't come up—she'd been irritated and stubbornly determined to help him whether he wanted it or not. By all rights, he should be screaming at her for violating his boundaries, yet again, and going against his wishes. It was the least she deserved for crossing that line. She said as much, still avoiding his gaze.
"I was royally pissed when I saw them, at first," he admitted, his lighthearted words teasing a glance from those gray eyes he so adored. "But then your note made me laugh—the first time I'd done that in weeks—and the next morning I had a bad spell. The teas helped, and I couldn't stay angry after that."
They played in silence for a few moments, each stewing on the other's words and trying find a way to bridge the gap. It was Katerina that broke the silence, watching as he captured one of her rooks, and silently marveling at the way his large hand swallowed up the ivory piece.
"Dance lessons start this evening," she said softly, considering the board. "Will you join me?"
"Of course," he replied. His skin heated then and he first worried it was another bout of withdrawal symptoms flaring up. But then he felt the fluttering in his stomach and the way his heart skipped a beat—no, it was excitement over getting to hold her close. He'd have an excuse to have his arms around her in public. It would be a first, and his pulse raced with anticipation.
"Good." She smiled brightly at him, her own excitement mirroring his. "We can suffer together through bungling the steps and having someone aggressively count to eight at us."
"That… doesn't sound fun in the least," Cullen admitted, chuckling at the silly romantic image of sweeping her about a ballroom that flashed through his mind. He quickly shook away the fanciful notion.
"It's like learning combat forms or… or like learning how to count no higher than eight from a really angry tutor." She shook her head, smiling distantly as she captured one of his pieces. "I had dance lessons as a child, with Aidan and the others. Aidan and I weren't allowed to partner together after we 'accidentally' broke the dance master's lyre."
Cullen chuckled at that, easily taking her bishop and adding it to his growing collection. "Why would you do such a thing?"
"It was only the strings, and he wouldn't stop screaming the numbers at me. I remember telling him that I knew how to count, but the numbers weren't going to remind of what step came next." Katerina smiled at the memory, wondering if Aidan remembered it too. She'd have to ask him when she saw him next. "The man was nearly apoplectic—I've never seen someone's face go so red."
"You two sound like a handful," he prodded, watching her unabashedly. The sunlight fell golden through the turning leaves, glinting off of her dark hair and highlighting the slate gray ring about her irises. He'd never noticed that before. It made the bright, silvery gray of her eyes that much more enchanting.
"We were. I often think that's why we were shipped off to the Chantry with so little fuss from the family." She frowned then, the notable absence of any response from her parents resting heavily on her shoulders. Katerina darkly wondered if she'd only hear from her mother if Halamshiral was a success.
Cullen noticed her darkening expression and allowed her to sink into thought. The game went on quietly for a bit, a faint hymn ringing out from the Chantry as they played. Somehow, despite her questionable faith, the sound of it seemed to ground her. Katerina shot him a proud smile when she captured one of his pieces and the general wanted nothing more than to press a kiss to the little mole by the corner of her mouth.
"This may be the longest we've gone without discussing the Inquisition—or related matters," he said awkwardly, forcing his thoughts away from wondering where else on her body there may be little moles or freckles in need of kissing. "To be honest, I appreciate the distraction."
"We should spend more time together," Kat said, ducking her head to hide her flush at such forwardness. She hadn't intended to say the words, but she couldn't stop herself around him.
Cullen felt a wide, foolish grin break over his face. "I would like that."
"Me, too."
"You said that…" He chuckled at her redundancy and deepening flush. It dipped below her modest neckline, and he longed to follow it down. Maker, he needed to stop before he launched himself at her over the board. "We should… finish our game. Right. My turn?"
The sun was dipping low in the sky when their game finally came to an end. Each fought to win, playing fairly and slowly. Eyes scanned the board, fingers tapped. They talked more about their families before trailing off into thought again.
Cullen enjoyed the way her nose crinkled when she was concentrating—a different furrow than when she was frustrated, and wholly unlike the tightness about her eyes and mouth that told him she was beyond exhausted. No, this was stubborn and adorable as she fought to the end. When all the moves had been made and there was nowhere left to run, Cullen knew he had to admit defeat.
"I believe this one is yours," he smiled, sitting back to watch the proud grin that crossed her face. It made his stomach clench to have that smile directed his way. "Well done. I'd… like to play again sometime."
"A third game? Commander," she teased, batting her eyes at him as they rose with the dinner bell. "How delightfully forward of you."
"What? How is that forward?" he squawked, easily falling into step with her.
"Everyone knows that a man must ask a lady's father for permission to court her before they play their third game of chess." Kat nudged him with her elbow before slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. Her heart was racing at the familiar pose. Could he hear it? "Otherwise, people will talk of all that time alone spent thinking and sighing."
"I've been alone in your rooms with you before," Cullen chuckled, shooting her a nervous glance at the teasing. It struck a little too close to home for his tastes. "If a public chess game is what gets the tongues wagging, then I'll know the world has gone mad."
"The world has gone mad, but I wouldn't mind stealing some pleasure for myself." Katerina shot him a wink, thoroughly enjoying her ability to make him go pink about the ears. She cared for him, deeply, and he had to know. With a steadying breath, she ventured, "Maybe… maybe you should come up to my rooms tonight. There's something I'd like to discuss. In private."
He froze then, turning to watch her with a dazed look upon his face. She couldn't mean what he was hoping she meant. No. He was misunderstanding. Certain of that, and relieved in his certainty, Cullen nodded with a tight smile. "After supper?"
"Make it a little later. I've still got work to do and will need to clean up after." Kat rolled her eyes, heart beating easier with his agreement.
Her resolve was strong now that hurdle was surpassed. But she still had to tell him. That would be the hardest part of the night. Tonight, she would know once and for all whether her feelings were one-sided. She couldn't live like this anymore: Pining over a man, praying for an excuse to visit him, subsisting on little glances and touches—it was too much. Her heart and her nerves couldn't take it.
Should he not reciprocate, she could easily throw herself into preparations for the Winter Palace. There was an entire set of architectural plans to memorize, dances to learn, and a whole host of faces and titles to study. The only time she would have to face him would in in the war room, but it was easy to pretend she had no feelings for the man with two hawk-eyed witnesses.
With a nod in parting, Katerina gave his arm a fond squeeze and slipped away to speak with Vivienne. She had an appointment to keep with the First Enchanter and etiquette to review. Perhaps she could even have a few final words with the seamstress…
Thick clouds obscured the sky, skating across it in all shades of gray and blue. It looked like rain. Kat breathed it in deep, savoring the heaviness of the air, the tension mounting in expectation of a release. A storm was sure to break tonight, confirmed by lightning flickering distantly over the mountains. Anticipation, both for the storm and her upcoming meeting, had her heart hammering against her ribs and threatening to shatter bone with its wild beating.
Assuming he wasn't waylaid, Cullen would be here any minute. It was enough to make her hands tremble. She felt like a schoolgirl with an infatuation so giddy was she. But this ran deeper than any infatuation she'd ever harbored. Where those fizzled and faded, this burned with new life. Even when her passions weren't enflamed, she could still feel the embers of heat smoldering just below the surface. But it wasn't dangerous like a wildfire. This controlled blaze kept her warm at night, gave her comfort and security, the promise of home. This was something more, so much more, than mere infatuation. Katerina couldn't name it—or maybe she just wasn't ready to—but she knew she wanted more.
She could only hope that Cullen felt the same.
Shivering at a chilly gust, Katerina secured the robe about her waist. She'd opted to go casual this evening, hoping it would make her more comfortable. It also had the added bonus of allowing her to immediately wallow in misery should she be met with the Commander's polite rejection. She shivered again, though this time it wasn't from the wind.
A knock sounded at the door, and she practically flew to the top of the stairs as she called for her visitor to come in.
Cullen entered, quietly pushing the wooden door shut with one foot as he stared up at her. She was wearing that robe again, the one that she'd worn before. The same one he'd dreamed of shoving off her shoulders to explore the delights hidden beneath. Dark curls tumbled about her shoulders, a stark contrast to the ivory brocade, and he couldn't hide his smile. Looking like this, he could imagine endless nights curling up before a hearth to read together and the lazy mornings that would follow.
He had no memory of mounting the stairs, but he found himself looking down at her smiling face all the same.
"I brought wine," he said, lamely holding the bottle and glasses carried between the fingers of his left hand. "And I brought some missives for your attention, though these can wait for tomorrow."
"I'll open the wine, just put those on my desk."
Slender fingers plucked everything from his grasp, and she busied herself at the sideboard. It was nice to have something to occupy her hands. Kat could feel herself vibrating with nerves. Now that he was here, she had no idea what to say to him or how to begin. Should she wait for an opening or simply dive in? Never had she wished so badly for some experience with real romance and deep emotions—at least then she might have some sense of how to start.
Cullen could feel the nervousness emanating from her. She practically buzzed with it. He could almost hear her roiling emotions humming like a beehive. He had no idea what had caused it—perhaps she was nervous around him? Maybe there as some lingering anxiety over their previous disagreement, but he'd thought the matter fully resolved. Frowning, he watched her. Her cheeks were pink, but there was no hint of anger in her expression.
He shifted uselessly before striding out to the balcony. Open air always soothed his nerves and cleared his head. She'd been playful in the garden and adorably awkward—nothing out of the ordinary there. But this frenetic energy, the tremors of her hands, it was such a turnaround from their earlier ease. It was then that a dark thought struck him.
Josephine had mentioned fielding offers of marriage—had Katerina accepted one? Had she invited him to tell him where he wouldn't cause a public scene? Cullen felt the cracks begin to appear on his heart. His chest tightened at the thought of her becoming another's, of losing her before he'd ever even had her. His earlier happiness vanished, drying up like water droplets in a desert. If she were engaged, or engaged to be engaged, he had to steel himself for the news.
A rustle alerted him to her appearance, and he forced those feelings down. There was a chance this wasn't about anything of the sort. Cullen clung to that hope as he turned to watch her settle in beside him.
"It's a nice night," he started, taking the wine she offered him and awkwardly gripping the stem of the glass.
"Hm?" She stole a glance at him, unable to hear what he'd said over her thundering pulse. The moon peaked through the clouds, the little sliver of silver highlighting his strong features before disappearing behind the downy clouds once more.
"It's…" He rubbed the back of his neck then, his gaze darting away to scan the mountains surrounding them. "You wanted to talk to me about something…?"
This was it. There was no turning back no. Katerina's throat bobbed as she tried to swallow past the lump there. She took a steadying pull of wine as every question, every doubt swirled through her mind to war with the furious fluttering of her heart and the heat she felt simply being near him. She couldn't bear it anymore—she needed to know.
"Dammit all," she muttered, balling her fists to hide her nerves. "Cullen, I care for you, and…"
He frowned as she lapsed into a pensive silence. "What's wrong?"
"You left the templars, but do you trust mages? Could you… could you think of me as anything more?" Kat took a deep breath and met his questioning gaze as boldly as she could despite the nervous energy pinging through her body. It was like she'd mischanneled lightning: Every nerve was alive and aware with this feverish energy that she couldn't dispel.
"I could," he replied quickly, startled by her blunt question. His stomach lurched at her bright gaze. Was she saying…? His stomach lurched then, realizing that she wasn't promised to anyone. "I mean, I do… think of you. And what I might say in this sort of situation."
'Maker's breath, I sound like a bumbling idiot,' he thought, mentally pounding his head against a wall. He dragged a hand over his stubble, praying for some sort of composure or the ability to deliver clever, romantic remarks.
"What's stopping you?" Kat asked, shifting where she stood mere inches from him.
He had a million other reasons, and all of them sounded hollow—all but one. He'd never dared hope... A lead boulder sank in his stomach as he realized he was going to try talking her out of any feelings she might carry for him. He really was a damned fool.
"You're the Inquisitor. We're at war. And you—I didn't think it was possible." Unable to stop himself, Cullen shifted toward her, drawn in by her pink lips and stormy gray eyes.
"And yet I'm still here." She moved too, drawing so close that she could smell leather, ink, and the oil he used to clean his sword.
"So you are." He was a breath away now, his hands resting lightly on her hips though he wanted nothing more than to press her close. He burned to feel her body against his. "It seems too much to ask, but I want to—"
He was a breath away from her lips when a knock echoed through the chamber, shattering the moment though neither moved away. He was so close, so close, only to be interrupted at the last second. Cullen dropped his head to her shoulder, fighting to suppress the snarl of agitation that clawed its way up his throat. Another knock sounded, and he strode away from her, muttering curses all the way to the door.
Kat followed, moving refill her wine with trembling hands. Disappointment sank in her stomach, prematurely ending the quivering anticipation that had filled her. She heard the door fly open with an angry squeal before he snarled at whoever was unlucky enough to be on the other side. A few heated words were lobbed at the unfortunate individual before the door was loudly bolted shut. He returned, his face still a thunderhead, and tossed something absently on the table near the stairs before stalking her way.
The moment was over, and she was certain he'd only returned to share whatever missive before offering his excuses. There was no need to prolong it.
"If you need to g—"
She gasped when his rough hands cupped her face and pulled her lips to his. Kat was stunned at first, shocked into stillness. Surprise gave way to heat, and she tugged him closer. Their lips moved together in a dance she instinctively knew the steps to. He was hard and hot and demanding—and liquid heat pooled low in her belly as she happily gave in to his demands. Kat had never known a kiss could feel so perfect. Her heart sang with his touch, her body practically melting against his as they tasted and explored.
Cullen felt her respond and some primal, greedy instinct had him searching for more. One hand rested low on her back, pressing her tighter to him, while the other tangled in her hair. A gentle tug had a throaty moan tearing from her, and he couldn't resist a self-satisfied smirk. Masculine pride roared within him to hear that noise, to know it was just for him. He plundered her mouth, tasting her as their tongues danced. A sharp nip at his bottom lip sent a spike of arousal shooting through him, and he pressed her hips closer so she could feel exactly the reaction she provoked.
He broke away with a gasp when she ground against him, knowing that he'd lose any control if they continued. Maker, he didn't even know if she'd wanted him to kiss her, however she may have responded.
"I'm sorry," he panted hoarsely. His hands stayed firmly planted on the swells of her hips, though he didn't know whether it was to hold her at bay or draw her in. "That was, um… really nice."
"I believe that was a kiss, though I can't be sure," Kat teased, winding her arms around his neck to toy with his hair. "It was all a blur, you see."
"Yes, well…" Cullen laughed at that, the sound free and delighted—boyish, even. He was so happy, truly and completely happy, that he couldn't be bothered to think of anything more to say. He'd always been a man of action, so he settled for capturing her lips in another kiss.
Kat didn't know how much time had passed as they explored the other, only that she was content to live in that perfect, happy haze for as long as her Commander would let her. Heat thrummed through her veins, languid and hungry for more. She nipped at his bottom lip again and pressed her hips against him, nearly purring to discover the hard evidence of his arousal.
His lips dropped to her neck, nibbling and sucking at the delicate skin there as he explored those places that made her mewl and writhe against him. Cullen was determined to memorize every reaction and little noise that came from those lips, often going back to those spots she seemed to like best. Smugness coiled within him as she shuddered in his arms and clutched him closer. Fingers worked through his hair and her nails rasped over his scalp, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.
Cullen pulled back then, breathing ragged, to watch the woman in his arms. She was flushed and lovely, eyes hooded with pleasure, her skin pink with his ministrations and the roughness of his stubble.
"We should stop," he panted. He nearly groaned at his instinctive chivalry as the words left his mouth. He didn't want to stop—he wanted to claim her, to show her the full extent of his adoration and watch as she shattered in his arms. Fingers yearned to explore her and learn each noise she could make in the throes of passion. Lips hungered to taste her and take her over the edge. But reason won out.
"That doesn't mean we must." Kat's voice was husky with desire as her fingers toyed with his soft hair. "You must know, Cullen, how much I want this—want you."
"I think it's obvious that the feeling is mutual." He gestured helplessly at his lower half with a weak chuckle.
"We're both adults," she continued. One hand slipped between them to toy with the sash of her robe. "I'm not inexperienced, so there's no need to treat me with kid gloves."
"Nor I," he breathed, fingers joining hers on the amethyst silk. "And Maker knows how I'd like to… treat you."
Kat laughed at his lame words, hands rising from the sash to toy with his hair. "But…?"
"But we—I need to wait." He dropped a kiss to the silky skin of her wrist. "I want to do this right. When I'm not weak with lyrium withdrawal and can fully enjoy the experience."
"Alright, Cullen. You lead, I'll follow." She smiled up at him before her brow furrowed. "Where does that leave us on kissing and other things?"
"Fully in favor." With that, he captured her lips again and savored the taste of her. Kiss-swollen lips moved against his, tongues danced, and heat suffused Cullen's limbs. It was a languorous, delicious torment to have limits when all he wanted was to sheath himself within her. But it would be better if he waited. He didn't want anything dulling or detracting from that moment.
Kat had no idea how long they embraced, only that her robe was discarded at some point. He'd also shed his armor and boots before they ended up in her monstrosity of a bed, their bodies entwined. She stretched one leg out from beneath her sleep shirt to drape over his.
"The commander of the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste," she hummed, head resting against his chest. His heart beat steadily under her ear, the rhythm reassuring her that this wasn't a dream she'd awake from—this was real. "That will have people talking."
Cullen sighed, fingers toying with the soft curls falling down her back. "You wouldn't believe how quickly gossip spreads through the barracks."
"Does it bother you?" she asked, staring determinedly at the ceiling. Katerina didn't risk glancing up—if she did, she feared she might see regret or shame. Her heart couldn't bear it.
"I would rather my—our private affairs remain that way." His voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating against her ear. Cullen felt her shiver at that and gathered her closer. "But if there were nothing here for people to talk about, I would regret it more."
Kat nuzzled his chest, a fresh surge of happiness filling her own until she felt so full she could burst. "How long had you wanted to kiss me?"
"Longer than I should admit," he chuckled. "Honesty, I couldn't keep my eyes off you, but we'd only just met, and…"
Cullen let the words trail off as he nuzzled her hair. The scent of honey and lavender tickled his nose, unfurling any remaining worries encircling his heart. She was willingly in his arms, she was real, and she was his. He was determined to hold her like this as often as possible to remind himself that it wasn't a fever dream.
"You don't have much patience for nobility," she said at length, fingers tracing patterns over his chest. "I'm glad my title didn't scare you off."
Cullen stilled at that, his brow furrowing. "I hadn't considered… I have no title outside the Inquisition. I hope that doesn't—I mean, does it… bother you?"
In all his time imagining finally having her and constantly reminding himself why it could never happen, Cullen hadn't considered her status as a noblewoman. She was the Inquisitor, a mage, a highborn lady, and hero to many—and what was he? A commoner from some Ferelden backwater. A bitter taste filled his mouth then. He had nothing to offer her.
"No, it doesn't bother me," Kat answered. Her fingers never stilled on his chest. "If you care for me, that's all that matters. My mother might care, but that's contingent on her actually wanting anything to do with me."
"I wasn't trying to put you on the spot," he said, rolling his eyes at himself. "I'm not very good at this, am I? If I seem unsure, it's because it's been a long time since I've wanted anyone in my life. I… wasn't expecting to find that here. Or you."
"Cullen? You're better at this than you think." She peered up at him, dark lashes fluttering around her bright eyes. "Now kiss me, please."
He happily obliged.
"My dear, may I have a word?" Vivienne's measured voice called to the Inquisitor as she perused the library a few days later.
Kat had been floating ever since she and Cullen had confessed their feelings. She'd found every opportunity to interrupt his day and steal a few minutes alone. He'd give her a brief update on troops or red templar movements before sweeping her up in his arms to plunder her mouth. Anything to give her a plausible reason for visiting.
Sometimes she'd drag him out to stroll the ramparts as they talked. The afternoon sun warmed her skin, glinting off the snow-covered mountainside below. They chatted as they passed by the patrols, careful not to touch lest they spur any further rumors after his late-night visit to her rooms. She could feel the guards watching as they walked along the battlements. Katerina did her best to ignore them while talking about troop movements and discussing the soldiers' infiltration of the Winter Palace. Only once they'd passed through another tower to overlook the slow repairs of a crumbling wall where they left utterly alone.
"Another patrol should be through here in a moment," Cullen said, shooting her a glance dark with want.
"Oh?"
Without another word, he backed her against the tower wall. Cold bit through her leathers as the shadows enveloped them. The heat of his lips warmed her when he caught her in a kiss. It was hard and fast, full of a barely controlled desire that tore through her like wildfire. Katerina responded in kind, her fingers curling into the fur mantle and tugging him closer. The plate armor was cold, sandwiching her between the chilled metal and the wall. She shivered with delight as their mouths warred, branding the other.
The far door to the tower screeched as the hinges moved and Cullen's thigh pressed hard between her legs, pulling a whimper from her before he tore himself away.
"Gatsi and his men should be finished with this section by the time we return from Orlais," he said. His lips were a little swollen, the only overt sign of their frantic kisses when the patrol came through mere seconds later.
The pair of soldiers sent the Inquisitor questioning looks, easily noting her tousled hair and pink cheeks. Thankfully, they said nothing as she shot the general a half-hearted glare.
The memory sent chills through her as she recalled the way it felt to be pressed against cold stone by his warm, hard mouth. Shaking herself out of it, she joined Vivienne with a warm smile. She genuinely liked the First Enchanter, finding the woman to be practical and cunning. The pair linked arms as they walked up to the dark-skinned woman's preferred perch overlooking the main hall.
"How can I help you, Madame de Fer?" she asked, their footsteps echoing on the stairs.
"I wanted to discuss the preparations for the Winter Palace," Vivienne replied with one of her unreadable smiles. "Have you settled on who's to join us?"
"I was thinking Blackwall or Cassandra, and Varric." Kat cast a curious glance at the First Enchanter. "I'm leaning towards Cassandra since I'm sure she has more experience with the nobility than Warden Blackwall."
"Take the Warden," the other woman replied, patting the Inquisitor's hand fondly. "It will remind the court of Adamant and force them to acknowledge that we have the support of the Grey Wardens."
Kat nodded as they settled comfortably on the divan in the Enchanter's nook. "That's a fair point. We need as much cache with the court as possible."
"Precisely." Vivienne watched her for a beat with those discerning eyes. "Lady Montilyet mentioned to me that you've received proposals from a slew of suitors, including Prince Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven. What do you make of that?"
Katerina shrugged as she tried to put her thoughts in order. "It's flattering, but I have no interest in pursuing a political match, especially not with Corypheus still out there."
The Enchanter hummed as she nodded, arranging her skirts about herself. "Understandable. I would also be hesitant to give up the power and independence that comes from such a singular station."
"Exactly! I've either lived by my parents' dictates or the Circle's my whole life—why would I cede everything to a man now, of all the times?"
Vivienne laughed at that, bright eyes sparkling with mirth and patted the younger woman's hand fondly. "You, my dear, are delightful. You remind me of myself before I met Bastien. I'd just had my first true taste of independence and was loathe to give it up, but he never asked that of me. He wanted only my companionship and provided for me as I did him. That's what women like us should aim for—a partnership that gives everything and detracts nothing."
"How is the Duke de Ghislain?" Kat asked, her head tilting with the polite inquiry.
"He's been in poor health recently, and I've been tasked with finding something to help." The slightest of frowns creased the lady's face for a flicker of a moment before she smoothed her expression. "I asked you up here because I need your help, my dear."
"Of course, Vivienne. Name it."
"I need you to bring me the heart of a snowy wyvern."
Katerina felt her brows shoot up at the odd request. "Alright. Is this for the Duke?"
"Yes."
A world of heartache was housed in that single syllable. Her heart panged for her friend's woe. To see a loved one suffer, to know they were ailing while far from their side couldn't be easy.
"Then of course I'll do it. I recall seeing an entirely white wyvern in the Exalted Plains and can ride out tomorrow to fetch the thing." Katerina nodded determinedly, already planning the expedition to help the First Enchanter.
"No, my dear. It must wait. The heart is only good for three days even if kept completely in the dark—we can ride out after the peace talks and return immediately to Halamshiral."
"Consider it done," Kat said firmly. She would do everything in her power to help the Enchanter and the man she loved. It was the least she could do, even as the other woman tried convincing herself that waiting was the right thing.
Vivienne easily hoisted a smile upon her full lips and regarded the Inquisitor with hooded eyes. "Now tell me, darling, is it because of power that you wish to remain unwed, or does this choice have anything to do with a certain strapping templar?"
If Katerina had been drinking anything, she would have choked on it. Her face heated and eyes blew wide. "I-I don't know what you mean. I've never wished to wed or bed anyone for power—you know how my mother tried, and how I rebelled."
"You're a terrible liar," she laughed. "But I do remember. Did I tell you that your mother actually wrote to me about finding you a patron in Val Royeaux?"
"No! How embarrassing," Kat groaned. She couldn't hide the eyeroll at her mother's shamelessness.
"She mentioned your gifts and hunger for knowledge, harped on the Ostwick connection—I started out at the Circle there—and tried convincing me to take you under my wing." Vivienne reclined on the divan and cast her gaze about the hall. "What a strange coincidence that we end up like this after all, you the Inquisitor and me preparing you to charm all of Halamshiral."
"And no patrons in sight."
"I do rather like it that way. You're a clever woman, Inquisitor, far too clever to be held back by marriage and heirs." The Enchanter smiled wistfully at Katerina then. "One word of advice: With proposals come power, leverage. Any rumors of a lover and those will dry up. For all their boasting, men don't enjoy competition for a woman. If you wish to use those offers to the Inquisition's advantage, you must be careful with the Commander."
"But how do I balance the two? I truly care for him and want to scream it from the rooftops—I'm not going to," she rushed to assure the other woman. "It's a tricky line to walk between not leading anyone on, preserving the Inquisition's reputation, and allowing my personal affairs to thrive."
Vivienne rested a hand reassuringly on the Inquisitor's knee, her gaze soft and expression full of understanding. "That's the cost of power, my dear. Conduct your affair in secret—meetings with notes and reports to give plausible deniability, public walks while you discuss business, and no more late nights in your rooms. It may also help if you allow Josephine and myself to manage your would-be suitors. We'll not force you into anything, and we'll manage the egos of all involved."
"Thank you, Vivienne."
"And, darling, I recommend you work on bluffing. You truly are a horrid liar." The Enchanter rose with all the grace of a panther, gesturing for the younger woman to follow her. "Now come, we have dance lessons to attend."
Dance lessons with Vivienne always left Cullen flustered and frustrated. It was like learning swordplay all over again: The clumsy footwork, wooden movements, and tight muscles from too much thinking while his drill sergeant counted and shouted advice from the sidelines. But it was worth it to hold Katerina in his arms. She'd whisper jokes to him, coo flirtatious nothings that only he could hear in an aim to distract him. He loved it.
Today, however, that single enjoyable aspect had been taken from him when the First Enchanter paired the Inquisitor with Blackwall. To watch her laughing at the other man's two left feet and whispering jokes to him under her breath had Cullen stewing.
He moved woodenly through the steps with Cassandra, his gaze flickering between their feet and Kat whose cheeks were flushed with the exertion. When he trod on Cassandra's foot for the third time, she viciously pinched him.
"Pay attention or leave, Commander."
"Sorry, Cass," he murmured absently. He stole another glance at his Inquisitor and a storm cloud settled over his brow at the way the Warden's hand sat too low on her back. His head throbbed in time with the music, the pain growing behind his eyes a combination of lyrium craving and jealousy. The man was mere inches away from pawing at Katerina.
The Seeker spared the other pair a look, humming when Kat forced the wandering hand to a more appropriate spot. "She does not care for him as she does you."
"What?" he choked, clearing his throat before continuing more normally. "I don't know what you mean."
"Liar," Sera called from where she was whirled awkwardly by the Iron Bull.
"I'm sure. Blackwall has served us well. He fights honorably and is more than willing to lay down his own life for hers." Cassandra watched the blond man with her stern, stoic mask firmly in place. "She thinks of him as an uncle, nothing more."
"I trust her, but have you seen the way he looks at her?"
"Yes," Cassandra replied simply, her stiff steps matched by his pained bumbling.
Vivienne's voice cracked through the air over the sound of Maryden's lute. "Cassandra, stop leading him. Ladies are supposed to follow the man."
"This is pointless," the Seeker huffed, pushing back from the general. "I do not intend to dance at this affair and see no point in relearning these foolish steps."
The music ground to a halt and everyone drew back from their partners to watch as the Seeker squared off with the Enchanter. Cassandra's glower met Vivienne's stern coldness. The air crackled with tension and Cullen felt a headache bloom behind his left eye.
"Do you not wish to make a good impression and further the Inquisition's cause?" Vivienne asked. Her voice was eerily devoid of emotion. "Or have you given up on the endeavor in its entirety?"
"Of course not! But I do not dance."
"A moment, Vivienne." Katerina appeared at the Seeker's elbow and quickly whispered in her ear. Whatever she said had the woman's cheeks flaming and lips twitching with amusement. She pulled back, nodding encouragingly, before stepping away. "Perhaps a change of partners is all we require?"
Vivienne's lips pursed briefly before she nodded her assent. "Very well. Sera with Blackwall, Cassandra with Iron Bull. Inquisitor—" For a brief moment, Cullen's heart fluttered with hope. "—you're doing well, come count for us and I'll test the Commander."
That hope sank like a boulder in a pond. Katerina simply nodded before graciously moving beside the minstrel. When the music started back up, Cullen's hands moved to grasp the mage and he forced himself not to count aloud or stare down at his feet. It was odd to dance so with the First Enchanter. She was a tall woman, graceful and proud as they came. The truly unnerving thing about her, Cullen decided, was her gaze. She had the power to make him feel like a bumbling Templar-Recruit again with a single arch glance.
He moved stiffly through the steps, his brow furrowed with concentration as he tried not to trample the Iron Lady.
"My dear Commander, it's a waltz, not a war. Stop glowering and try to enjoy it," Vivienne tsked, her light tone belied by the way she searched his face.
"My apologies, Madame Vivienne," he murmured, trying to smooth out his frown. The dull ache blossomed, sending hot lances through his stiffening neck.
Something of his unease must have lingered for she quirked a brow at him. "Would you look slightly more rapturous if you were partnered with another? The Inquisitor, perhaps?"
That caught him off guard and his gaze snapped to meet hers, bewildered amber meeting knowing brown. "I beg your pardon?"
"I know of your… amorous pursuits, Commander." Vivienne's voice was low and didn't carry further than his ears. The music and Kat's instructions provided the other mage the perfect cover for this conversation. "I've noticed the furtive glances and your late-night rendezvous in her rooms are all the talk among the servants."
"Idle gossip," Cullen scoffed. His brow furrowed again, his jaw tight with agitation as he fought past the throbbing in his head. "It's only natural that the Inquisitor should have meetings with the man overseeing her army."
"Katerina confirmed your involvement, though you're a better liar than she." Vivienne allowed the shock of that to sink in as she moved gracefully through another eight count. "I don't say this to pry, simply to let you know that rumors are already swirling about the two of you—rumors that could seriously limit the alliances on offer. Caution is key."
He nearly growled at that, his nose wrinkling with displeasure and the sharp spikes of the headache driving into his eyes. "Are you in favor of her marrying off to better the Inquisition?"
"Of course not. She has the power to bring entire nations to their knees. What can a political marriage offer that she does not already possess?" The Enchanter met his surprised gaze with a small smile. "I merely suggest that you take precautions to limit talk while the ambassador and I work to turn those proposals into more palatable alliances."
"Very well. I will do what I can to curtail the issue," Cullen ground out before drawing back from the mage. "If you'll excuse me…"
With that, he hurried away from the music and laughter for the solace of his dark, quiet office.
It took four days of steady riding to reach Vivienne's townhouse in Halamshiral. It was really more of a sprawling chateau than anything else, located opposite a park in the heart of the city. Sparkling white marble, blue slate rooftiles, and glinting gold accents lent the city an ethereal air. It looked like something from a children's story when snow began to fall. They were just inland enough for the chill air to allow it to accumulate, dusting the tops of manicured greenery and frosting over the windowpanes.
Katerina was grateful for her warm, fur-lined cloak as they rode through the cobbled streets. She gathered the deep blue wool closer and wishing she were surrounded by the heat of a certain blond general instead. It had been almost a week since they'd been able to steal a moment alone. Between preparations for the Winter Palace, coordinating troop movements, and making sure the Inquisition wouldn't crumble without the four key players in Skyhold, they'd barely had time to sleep much less exchange kisses in secret. Kat stole a glance at the man riding on her left and shared a small smile with him before Vivienne called her attention elsewhere.
"Inquisitor, I took the liberty of preparing a few little luxuries for the ladies in preparation for the entertainments this week," the Enchanter said, looking at ease for the first time in weeks. A hint of a smile played around her lips as she took in the bustling winter scene of the city.
"Will there be any time to do a little gift shopping?" Katerina asked, noting the neat row of shops and their offerings peeking out from behind glittering glass.
"Of course! I'll be sure to give you my recommendations," the other woman said with a grin. "Just remember, darling, that I look divine in yellow."
The Inquisitor laughed at the woman's wide smile, nodding as she replied, "Noted, Madame Vivienne."
The party dismounted before the looming façade of the mansion, quickly retrieving their saddlebags before servants whisked their mounts away with a hasty bow. Gravel crunched underfoot as they made their way inside the marble foyer where a polished brass chandelier cast its golden light. Vivienne's servants worked efficiently to lead everyone to their rooms, already made up and filled with the finery commissioned specifically for the week.
Katerina's sprawling suite was the height of luxury. Intricate plasterwork decorated the ceiling and brass fixtures spread a warm light through the room. A hearth was carefully screened with a fire crackling merrily, spreading its heat through the room. The massive bed was made up with a red silk duvet stuffed with the finest eiderdown and the ornate headboard glinted with gold trim. A large rosewood wardrobe dominated one wall where she was certain her new gowns, undergarments, and dancing slippers were located. Beside it sat a matching vanity with an array of fine pots and jars lining the silver tray atop it.
A second doorway revealed a washroom situated with a large marble tub sunk into the middle of the floor. A water closet was neatly tucked away in the back, and stacks of fluffy towels, scented oils and soaps, and wide-toothed jade combs littered every surface.
She was overwhelmed by the finery. While she grew up the daughter of a teyrn, most of her life had been spent in a Circle overseen by the Chantry. It was a simpler way of life, the sort not given to such ostentatious displays of wealth or overflowing with amenities. But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it while it lasted.
Decision made, Katerina quickly stripped out of her travel clothes and ran a steaming bath. She quickly found a scented oil and matching soap before luxuriating in the hot water. Muscles stiff with cold and riding relaxed in the bath, the heat working its magic to unfurl the tension brought on by travel.
Katerina didn't know what to expect from this week. The schedule was carefully regimented, and Inquisition forces set to infiltrate the palace were currently camping in the forest surrounding the city. But that wasn't what she was unsure of. She had so many meetings with powerful people lined up, teas and elegant dinners to attend—she wasn't sure how she would be received. She was a mage in a society where that was distasteful, an unmarried woman in power who had no crown to her name, and only a very general grasp of how to play the Game.
She scrubbed at her skin with the scented soap as she tried to block those thoughts out. They wouldn't do any good. The last thing she needed was to be even more nervous.
A knock sounded faintly from the door to her rooms, and she called for the person to enter, assuming it was Vivienne or one of her servants. Instead, the sound of heavy boots echoed across the thick carpet. Her visitor was a man. Cursing, Kat flew out of the bath and hurriedly wrapped herself in one of the oversized towels.
"Hold on, sorry, don't come in—" The words died on her lips when Cullen poked his head in the bathroom. "Hello."
"There you are." A soft grin crossed his face. "I was starting to think I'd missed you."
Kat just shook her head, failing to keep a too-wide smile from her lips. "You caught me in the bath."
"Don't let me interrupt," he said. Instead of leaving, though, he pushed the door open wider and leaned against the jamb. He wasn't wearing his armor now, instead sporting a simple doublet and dark jerkin with glints of red and gold warmed his appearance. His strong physique was on display in the outfit, broad shoulders and long, well-muscled legs highlighted by the dark colors and subtle detailing.
Suddenly bashful, she clutched the towel tighter about her body. "I—you want me to bathe in front of you?"
Cullen just shrugged, fully aware of her wandering eyes. His pink ears told her he wasn't as confident as he was trying to appear. "I wanted a few moments alone together, and I thought… well, now's as good a time as any."
She shifted, skin tightening with cold now that she was no longer submerged in the hot water. A puddle was forming around her feet. "Alright… but you have to turn around until I'm back in the water." He did as instructed, and she only hesitated a moment before she slipped back in with a pleasured hiss. "You can turn around now."
He did and chewed the inside of his cheek to keep any hasty requests from slipping free. She was dwarfed by the massive tub and the water did little to obscure her figure. "Do you mind if I sit and talk while you wash?"
"Not at all," she gestured to the stool tucked neatly under a marble vanity. "What would you like to discuss, cariad?"
"What that word means, first of all," he teased, folding himself onto the stool.
Kat couldn't hide her smile, so she busied herself with washing. "Only good things, like I already told you."
"That's not an answer." Cullen's eyes tracked the cloth as she dragged it over her skin. His tongue darted out to wet his lips when it disappeared under the water, and he tore his gaze back up to hers. "How are you doing with all this?"
"Do you mean 'bathing in the lap of luxury?' Or the plotting and scheming to protect an empire that hates mages?" She tried to keep her words light, but he could sense the unease underlining her joviality.
"The first, obviously." His words teased a smile from her. "Because you look perfect."
"Would that have anything to do with my current state of undress?"
"It has everything to do with it." Cullen laughed when she splashed some of the bathwater harmlessly at him. "But tell me: how are you, really?"
Kat unpinned her hair and fully submerged herself. She wanted a moment to organize her thoughts away from his astute gaze, knowing that he would see through her in a heartbeat. How did she feel? Kat, not the Inquisitor. The woman underneath it all. It was getting harder and harder to discern between herself and the title. Somehow the two were blurring together until she couldn't tell where she ended and the public façade began.
Surfacing, she began washing her hair and the smell of honey filled the room. "Honestly, I don't know. I'm so overwhelmed by what's expected that all I can do is move forward. It's… it's like the room is on fire and everyone is panicking and I'm the only one with a bucket of water. I want to panic too, but I can't because someone will get hurt."
Cullen quickly removed his jerkin and rolled up his sleeves while moving to sit beside the tub. "Here, let me…"
She nearly purred when his hands replaced hers in massaging her scalp and working the soap through her hair. His touch was sure and steady, sending little waves of pleasure washing over her. It was intimate, something that no one had ever done for her save a nanny in childhood. Cullen quickly rinsed her hair, his hands slicking the bubbles away before combing hair oil through her sopping locks.
"I hope you know that you have support," he said as his hands worked over her hair. "There are people who are here to help you—"
"Here to help the Inquisitor, you mean, not me." She sighed under his ministrations and allowed her eyes to flutter shut. "That feels good."
"I used to help my sisters with their hair." Cullen kept working through her hair with a frown that she couldn't see. "Do you truly think, after all this time and everything that's happened, that we only care about the mark?"
Her shoulders moved in an approximation of a shrug while he began rinsing the oil from her raven hair. "I've made friends, certainly, but the only thing truly remarkable about me is the mark—it's the only reason I wasn't executed after the explosion. It's the only reason I was given the title, and it's the only reason—"
"Katerina, stop." His words cracked through the room, and she noticed his stern scowl for the first time. "You have proven yourself more than capable of greatness. You've made the hard decisions and kept everyone around you alive. That was you, not the title and certainly not the Anchor. Do you really believe that any of us would follow someone less capable if their only qualification was a glowing hand?"
She shifted in the tub, chastened, water sloshing against the marble as she moved. "It sounds rather silly when you put it like that."
"We all care about you. You must know that." His voice was gentler now, coaxing her to meet his eyes with a feather-light touch of his fingers to her cheek. "I care for you, deeply. Do not doubt that."
She dropped a kiss to his palm, her heart skipping a beat when she heard his breath hitch at the gesture. Kat held his gaze the entire time, watching as heat smoldered in his molten eyes. Her stomach flipped with anticipation. Would he decide to throw caution to the wind, haul her from the tub, and have his way with her? Excitement eased when Cullen shook his head and grabbed her a fresh towel.
"Here, you should probably get ready to join the others downstairs." With that, he hurriedly retreated from the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.
Katerina quickly dried herself, cheating a bit with magic to dry her hair, and slipped into clean smallclothes. Simple cotton was soft against her skin as she tied the knickers firmly about her waist, her breasts covered only with a thin lace chemise—it was something she'd carried with her since the Circle, her one dispensation towards luxury that she often wore under her standard issue robes. Now that she was Inquisitor, she didn't often go about in robes or gowns. Wearing the chemise again, soft with age and more washdays than she could count, felt safe and familiar. It was a comforting taste of her old life, of before.
A thick robe, perfect for shielding her from the cold, was secured over her underthings before Kat stepped back into the bedroom. Cullen was perusing the small collection of books set atop the mantlepiece. She took a moment to admire him and the way he seemed like an embodiment of flame and heat as he stood cast in firelight. He was all golden curls and flashing eyes. His touch seared her skin, marking her in a way that both laid claim and set her free. But he was also safe, familiar, comforting—he reminded her of home, or, rather, of what home was supposed to be.
When Cullen caught her staring, he shot a small smile her way. "Vivienne really has thought of everything."
"She's the consummate hostess," Kat shrugged, moving closer to join him at the hearth. "I'd trust that woman to run the whole Inquisition if something happened to you, Leliana, and Josie—she thinks of everything."
"The soldiers are intimidated by her," he chuckled. His hands reached out to cup her hips, drawing her near. The scent of her soaps and oils tickled his nose and Cullen breathed deep. It felt like ages since he'd been able to hold her like this, just the two of them alone and entwined, enjoying the feel of the other pressed close. "But I don't want to talk about our hostess."
She sucked in a shuddering breath when his nose tickled along her jawline to nuzzle into her throat. Stubble scratched over her skin, soothed by his lips. Kat's body seemed to come to life at the simple touch. Awareness shot through her followed by frissons of excitement, ricocheting to her fingertips and toes before coiling low in her belly.
"It's maddening," she murmured, twining her fingers through his silky hair. "You've barely touched me, but I can hardly think straight."
A smug smirk flitted over his tempting lips. "That's… good to know."
With that, he captured her mouth with his, plundering and tasting like a starved man at a feast. She nearly melted in his arms at his ferocity. It was so easy to allow herself to be swept up in his passion, to submit to his silent commands. Her limbs went heavy with pleasure and suffused with a lazy heat, but Kat had never been one to play the damsel for long.
Cullen swallowed the little noises spilling from her, his body responding to the desperate gasps and moans. When she nipped at his bottom lip, a flood of desire settled low in his belly and his breeches suddenly became too tight. He nearly came undone when her clever tongue traced the silvery line of his scar before her teeth nipped and lips sucked at the sensitive flesh of his ear. Unable to think beyond the haze of pure want, he lifted her in his strong arms and whirled so that she was trapped between his body and the cool stone wall. On instinct, Katerina's legs wound about his waist. Their lips never broke apart as the dance continued. He growled against her, his hands kneading the firm globes of her ass and tracing the toned muscles of her bare legs.
A rush of liquid heat settled in her belly, setting her skin ablaze and leaving lines of lightning in his fingers' wake. She pressed closer until she could feel the hard line of his arousal straining against his laces and pressing torturously against her hot core. She devoured his strangled groan and moved herself against him again. His hips jerked in response, his teeth nipping at her delicate throat. Red blossomed over her skin, glaring against the ivory column of her throat, and he quickly kissed and laved to ease the delicious sting left by his teeth.
His hips continued moving against her, a pantomime of the full extent of his lust. Cullen wanted to bury himself in the velvet heat of her, to feel her tight body enveloping his cock and pulling him deeper with every thrust. He wanted to fill her with his seed and feel her walls flutter around him as she shattered with pleasure. He wanted to claim her, to know her fully and never let go.
But that couldn't happen right now.
Cullen reined himself in with a stranglehold on the last vestiges of his self-control. However willing they both were, he knew he wasn't ready to take that particular leap just yet. She deserved better than a quick rut against a wall, and he deserved to be fully present for the experience. He slowed their kisses to long, shallow things that cooled and teased. His lips silently promised her more as they ghosted over her silken skin; he promised her soon when his mouth moved slowly over hers.
She responded in kind, accepting the change of pace with a smile in tacit acknowledgement of his need to progress slowly. It was so unlike anything she'd experienced at the Circle. The few partners she'd known dropped kisses perfunctorily, like it was an obligation rather than something to be enjoyed. It was always such a race to the finish line that she'd never truly known how pleasurable it could be to just feel someone's lips moving against hers. That something so simple could feel so good had her toes curling in anticipation of everything else. A thrill had danced through her when Cullen had pinned her against the wall, but this was somehow better. They brought each other back down to earth. Kisses slowed to mere brushes and eyes fluttered open to take in flushed cheeks and disheveled hair.
Kat felt herself smile shyly up at him, watching his answering lopsided grin through her dark lashes. "You're really good at that."
He nuzzled her hair and dropped a kiss to her temple to hide his pleased flush. "So are you."
She shifted against him, legs still wound about his waist. Teasingly, she said, "We should probably move. Can you imagine the scandal if someone were to see us like this?"
Cullen's hands squeezed her full rump again, the motion pulling her tighter against him. "Let them. I don't care who knows that I'm the lucky man who gets to hold you like this."
Stormy eyes narrowed at him as she searched his face before widening with her delighted laughter. "You're the jealous type, aren't you?"
"I don't—No!" he defended weakly, fighting against an answering chuckle.
"You absolutely are." She actually giggled at him, fingers twisting through his hair and rubbing light circles over his neck. Still, she made no move to extricate herself from him. "You do know that I'll have to talk to and even dance with other men, yes?"
"I'm aware, you minx." He tried to shoot her a stern scowl as he moved them to the settee before the hearth.
She didn't move from his lap even as he settled onto the cushioned seat, something Cullen couldn't complain about. Her solid heat in his lap and strong legs pressing against his thighs was reassuring—she was really here, it was real. His hands stroked down her thighs, feeling the lean muscles that quivered beneath his touch. There was no chance of him waking to find that this was a dream, no chance of coming to and realizing this was a trick of the Fade. She was too right.
"I may even have to dance with other women!" Kat teased, happily straddling him. The lacy chemise peaked out from the gaping robe, and she subtly encouraged it to fall further open. Despite taking things slow, she could at least give his imagination some fodder for when he was alone. "Can you handle seeing that, or will you storm the dancefloor and cart me away?"
Cullen's eyes locked on the delicate lace that barely obscured her full breasts from view and bit back a groan. Her rosy nipples pebbled in the cool air beneath the creamy lace, and his erection twitched at the mere sight of them.
"I won't mind that so long as these dance partners don't seek to become more." His words were nearly strangled with the sheer torment of looking at her, having her so close and knowing that all resolve would fly out the window if he so much as touched her.
"How could they ever compete?" She lifted one of his hands to rest against the cool skin of her chest, pressing it so he could feel her heart beating a steady rhythm against her ribs. "I only want you."
Words stuck in his throat at her simple words. He stared at her for a beat as he tried to gather himself enough to speak. It didn't matter; he couldn't formulate the right words to express the fullness of his heart, the sweet ache filling his chest and lightness rushing through him to make his fingers tingle. Instead, he caught her lips again as he poured everything he couldn't say into a kiss.