Chantal wanted to remember this picture for the rest of her life, regardless of how long or short it was. Isabela's beautiful, toned body stretched out, her ass in the air, and Zevran rising above her, his fingers digging into her hips as she slowly, leisurely, bottomed out in her tight sheath. Isabela moaned something that almost sounded like a prayer to the Maker, arching her back to urge him in deeper.
Chantal made a note to pay better attention to the act itself when Zevran plunged into her next time. She'd never bothered to look down at where their bodies joined, but watching him slowly withdraw from another woman's body, slick and hard, before sliding back in…
Chantal whimpered, the heal unspooling in her stomach, wetness clinging to the inside of her thighs. She couldn't decide what she wanted more as she knelt beside the other two, watching in delight and fascination. Isabela's thighs trembled, the muscles in Zevran's core clenched, and Chantal - torn between which to touch, decided to touch them both. One hand traced down Zevran's core, the other lightly brushed against Isabela's upturned ass while she stared, breathless and hot, at their joining.
"Mi amor." Zevran sighed, one hand moving from Isabela's hips to thread into her hair, to pull her, breathless with want, to his lips. She opened under him, lost in the sensation of his tongue tracing hers.
"You must be desperate, yes?" Zevran asked, letting his hand slip over her cheek, down her neck, brushing gentle across her collarbone. She arched into his touch, begging wordlessly for more. Zevran grinned, his teeth flashing sinfully against his curved lips. He lifted his other hand, lightly smacked Isabela's bottom.
"Perhaps our pirate queen would consent to return the favor you provided?" He asked, eyes absolutely wicked. "Put that mouth to good use, hm?"
"Oooh, please." Isabela moaned, breathy and earthy and absolutely perfect. "Get those trousers off, sweet thing. Let Bela take care of you."
The laces dissolved like magic underneath her fingers and she peeled down trousers and small clothes, kicking boots off roughly. One of them hit Isabela's desk, knocking off a rather impressive hat. "Sorry." Chantal squeaked.
Zevran chuckled. Isabela just reached for her impatiently, one long arm grabbing hers and tugging her closer. "Lay down, sweet little warden, before you break any of my expensive toys."
Zevran reached down to play with Isabela's dusky nipples, making the pirate moan and arch, making her pull Chantal closer even more urgently.
"She tastes just as sweet as you think, Isabela." Zevran swept Isabela's hair over one shoulder so he could lean forward over the other, watch as Isabela spread Chantal's thighs apart. She should be embarrassed by how wet she was, but both Isabela and Zevran looked at her as if she were a tasty morsel ready to be devoured immediately.
"Oh, I'm sure." Isabela purred, trailing her quick fingers up the outside of Isabela's thighs while she began to trail teasing, light kisses up the inside. "They had you locked in a tower, sweetheart? My, my, my…"
Isabela skipped right over her heated center, trailing those light, teasing kisses down the other thigh. Chantal threw her head back and moaned, bucking her hips up, desperately trying to call attention to where she needed touched.
"A shame." Zevran agreed. "She even told me the stories about orgies in the moonlight are false."
"Well, we'll have to make up for that, hmm?" Isabela's eyes gleamed wickedly, and then her fingers slipped right through the slick heat covering her womanhood and Chantal lost track of all reasonable thought. Isabela's fingers were similar to his, but so different as well. Rough and calloused from handling daggers, but softer when she stroked, much more teasing, taunting almost.
"Maker!" Just about sobbed as Isabela lapped the flat of her tongue down the length of her slip.
"For you, Warden, I'll go by Isabela."
Zevran laughed and thrust, hard, into Isabela. The motion brought a surprising and much appreciated degree of friction against her neglected clit. "Make her sing, Isabela." Zevran ordered, pinching the other woman's nipple.
And Maker, Isabela did. This, Chantal thought, must be how it felt to walk a plank, the ocean wide and expansive in front of you. Isabela didn't just lick, she devoured, her hands digging into Chantal's thighs, splayed on top of her to hold her down with a surprising amount of strength. Isabela's clever tongue never stopped, circling her clit, flicking it, pushing her higher and higher.
But it wasn't enough, not near enough. Chantal whined and Zevran took one of Isabela's hands, guided it to her sopping entrance. Isabela took the cue immediately, slipping one finger inside, then another. And yes, she needed those fingers, needed them to fall into the rhythm Zevran had taken up behind Isabela, his dark eyes ravenous on her body as she trembled and twisted.
Chantal mewed in need, raising her hips up in blatant invitation, bringing her hands to her own breasts, cupping them as Isabela closed her lips around her clit, sucking gently, and curling those devious fingers inside her.
Chantal broke like waves against the docks, shattered as if she'd fallen off the cliffs. Her body rolled, her moans echoed in the cabin, and Zevran was thrusting faster into Isabela, he could feel his thrusts in the way her fingers slipped back and forth inside her.
"Some help, little witch?" Zevran grunted, pulling Isabela back up, letting the pirate's fingers slip from within her. And he lifted up one her thighs, giving Chantal a perfect view of his cock splitting the pirate queen's sex in two.
Chantal knew what he wanted, didn't have to ask. She stretched, leisurely, bringing herself to her still trembling knees. Slowly, she threaded her fingers through Isabela's dark hair, staring into the other woman's eyes as she trailed her hands low, teasing over the softness of her stomach, the clenching muscles as Zevran fucked her.
"Warden…" Isabela moaned in surrender, dropping her head back on Zevran's shoulder. Chantal captured her lips immediately, a conquest if she'd ever made one, and let her fingers circle the little bud that matched hers.
The smallest spark was enough to cause the pirate to explode again, and Chantal swallowed her moans greedily as Zevran's hips stuttered unevenly. Then he was moaning too, wrenching her lips from Isabela's roughly to claim them himself as he spilled inside her.
They stayed on the boat until dawn painted the sky pink. Chantal didn't feel particularly well rested, but she certainly felt satisfied, and that was something. Zevran slipped his arm around her waist as they ambled through Denerim. He was humming something under his breath.
"What is mi amor?" Chantal asked, stifling her yawn. "You say it sometimes."
"Ah, nonsense in Antivan." He grinned, but he didn't quite meet her eyes. "Not nearly the poetry you deserve, but I doubt they make poetry to honor women such as you, yes? You are too rare."
She flushed in delight. Zevran continued on, as he always did. She suspected he took almost as much pleasure in making her turn pink as he did in the things they enjoyed in the bedroom.
"I must admit, I am concerned that they are locking up all of the most eligible damsels in towers, as if waiting for a fairy tale prince, yes? Should we send Alistair to investigate?"
She giggled, letting her head rest against his shoulder. Alistair could go obtain all the rest of the girls in towers, if he wished.
She'd escaped her own and found an assassin who clearly lied about his skills picking locks to impress a newly liberated circle mage. Better, she thought, than a storybook prince.
"There you are!"
They were still a block from the inn, but when they rounded the corner, Wynne was waiting. Her arms crossed over her chest, jaw trembling with anger. "Where have you been?" She demanded.
Somehow, she didn't think Wynne was very much going to like the answer. She bit her lip, chanced a quick glance up at Zevran.
The bastard was grinning like a cat that had gotten into the cream, so Chantal supposed she was taking the fall for this one herself.
"You look… you look…" Wynne scanned Chantal, shook her head in shocked disbelief. Chantal didn't know exactly how she looked, but she could make an educated guess that it probably looked like she'd spent all night having a threesome with a pirate.
"This!" Wynne rolled her eyes skyward. "This is the best reason for getting rid of the circles! You take a well mannered, reasonably intelligent girl out of them and she becomes possessed by the demon of mischief! She loses her damned mind!"
"Wynne…" Chantal tried to soothe.
"Do not dare!" Wynne held up one finger, then jabbed it toward the inn. "You'll clean up, and then we'll spend all day searching this city for that damned scholar. I don't want to hear one word about how exhausted you are or if you've got any diseases you've picked up from wherever he dragged you to!"
"I think the baths are big enough for two, my warden." Zevran winked down at her roguishly.
Wynne's sputtering shouts of rage could most likely be heard all across Denerim.