Chapter 5: Lessons in Love

When Zevran snuck back into Cat's room the next evening, she was standing near the fireplace, a glass of dark red wine in her hand and a frown on her face. It had been a tiring day. Arlessa Isolde had seemed determined to show them off to every single one of her neighbours. Come and see the heroes who saved the Arl! And of course she never failed to mention how she had been the only one to believe in the Urn's power in the first place. More than once he'd seen Cat clench her teeth in frustration, remembering all the knights who'd lost their life on this improbable wild-goose chase. Leaning against the mantelpiece, she sighed deeply, but when she noticed him, her face lit up in a bright smile.

"Zev! Would you help me with these?" she exclaimed, indicating the fastenings of her leather armour.

He walked over to her, his nimble fingers setting to work. "Your choice of dress didn't go down too well with the Arlessa, no?" he muttered as his lips softly brushed against her neck.

She frowned again. "No, she'd rather parade me around like a prize horse! Kept telling me a Teyrn's daughter should wear proper Fereldan costume. Stupid, useless woman. I should have killed her when I had the chance!"

"However," her face took on an impish expression as she let the last piece of her armour fall to the floor and disappeared for a minute behind the voluminous bed-curtains. "What do you think about this?"

Zevran's eyes widened and he whistled softly in appreciation. She was wearing a mere nothing made from the finest Orlesian silk. The lacy dark red fabric clung to her slim body, enhancing her curves.

"Where did you find this?" he inquired, joining her on the bed.

She smiled a truly feline smile. "Nicked it from the Arlessa's chest of drawers," she answered nonchalantly. "The woman has about a hundred of those, so she won't miss it. And I like the feel of it." She let her hands travel suggestively over her hips, looking up at him with a provocative expression.

Zevran raised an amused eyebrow. She seemed determined to be the one who did the seducing tonight. Well, he wasn't in a hurry, and he rather enjoyed seeing her in such a playful mood. "Tell me, my sweet Catalina, how did a nobleman's daughter become such an accomplished thief?" he asked, taking a sip from her glass of wine.

She pouted for a moment, disappointed at his delaying tactics, but then she launched into her story willingly enough. "That would be May's doing. She was a chambermaid at the castle, a reformed thief from Denerim. She'd been condemned to the gallows, you see, and had pleaded her belly. When the babe was born, my mother took her in." She made a face. "Mother made a huge show of how charitable she was, but she didn't let May forget for a second that she was keeping a close eye on her." Cat snorted. "May didn't steal a thing from my parents, though she could have picked any lock in the castle. Zev, that woman was an artist!"

He smiled at her flushed, excited face. "She taught you?"

Cat nodded. "I was eleven or twelve then, and I used to watch her little boy for her while she was fooling around with one of the footmen. In exchange, she spent hours showing me how to move silently, to pick locks and pockets..."

"And no one noticed?" Zevran asked incredulously.

"Well, Fergus did. But I never told Mother about him and the scullery maid either."

Cat shrugged off the memories, and snuggled closer to him. She wasn't going to let him distract her any further. Last night he had been in control, and she'd been grateful for his experience and skill. She vividly remembered her cousins' lurid tales of 'first nights', and she knew she'd been lucky beyond measure to have met Zevran. But tonight she wanted more than just to follow his lead.

"So, do you like me in this?" she asked again, indicating the revealing gown.

"'Like' isn't the word I'd use," he growled softly, letting his hand trail over the soft fabric that just barely covered her breasts, revelling in the feel of her firm flesh under the thin silk. She moved onto his lap, straddling him and let her lips brush tantalizingly against his.

Zevran responded immediately, kissing her deeply, taking his time until he felt her shiver under his hands. "Zev," she breathed. "Make love to me again! Tell me you still want me."

He laughed, a deep throaty chuckle. "And do you doubt that, cara mia? Of course I want you. I was afraid you might be a little sore, though."

"I was," she admitted. "But I asked Wynne for a salve. Told her I was saddle sore after the long ride from Haven."

He couldn't believe his ears. "And she bought that?"

Cat shrugged. "If she didn't, at least she didn't preach at me either. Now, don't you think I have a lot more to learn?" Her husky voice made him shiver as she touched him hesitantly, her fingers stroking him through his leather breeches.

He quickly caught her hand, placing a searing hot kiss on her wrist. "Not yet!" he commanded. "Undress me first."

Her eyes widened at his imperious tone, but she obeyed. Carefully she unlaced his shirt and pulled it over his head. Her gaze wandered over his body with frank admiration and curiosity, taking in his strong arms, his well-muscled chest, his chiseled abdomen. His skin had a deep golden colour, far darker than hers, and it shimmered in the candlelight like the silk she was wearing.

Encouraged by his stillness she let her hands wander all over his chest and belly, then her lips and tongue followed suit. He kept completely motionless, letting her explore, but he moaned softly when she sucked gently on his nipples. His eyes half-closed Zevran enjoyed her boldness, only occasionally directing her hands or mouth to a spot that gave him even more pleasure. Finally, she began to unlace his breeches, freeing his hard, straining member from the tight confines of the leather. She glided down between his thighs, planting a soft kiss on his tip and he gasped for air. His breath caught in his throat when she looked up at him with dark veiled eyes. "Teach me," she breathed, making him very nearly lose control.

"Later," he rasped, pulling her up with a powerful grip. His hands roamed her body, quickly setting her ablaze with desire. When he parted her legs, he felt her hot and wet and ready for him. She moved swiftly then, and straddled him again, emitting a soft cry as she slowly took his full length inside her. Zevran held on to her hips for a moment, letting them both adjust to the feeling. Then he let go of her and groaned at her soft careful motions. It was almost torturous for him to let her set the pace, yet he felt his own lust build up in a steady lazy curve he wasn't sure he could have achieved himself.

When he almost couldn't bear it any more, he took hold of her hips again and carefully rolled over with her. He held his weight propped up on his arms and began a slow, sweet grinding of his hips that made her writhe under him in pleasure. "Zev, oh Zev," he heard her sigh as he increased his pace, watching her, his own body taut like a bowstring. When she finally arched up against him with a hoarse cry, her muscles clenching around him, it took him only seconds to follow her.

"You really are a fast learner," he muttered, his lips softly caressing the top of her head.

She laughed softly, curling up closer to him. "I have a good teacher," she purred contentedly.