This scene is a continuation of Chapter 32 of "At Your Side", "What About Now". Fenris and Evelyn have just reconciled, which led to fast, feverish friskiness on his desk. At the time, my dear friend Biff McLaughlin complained that there wasn't enough smut in the chapter (and she wasn't the only one); recently she requested more to read for her vacation. So Biff, this one's for you. Enough smut yet? ;) {Note: this chapter, NSFW.} Many thanks to all of you who have shared this story with me and expressed your appreciation for this pairing, which is very close to my heart. Have a very happy holiday season, whatever you might celebrate, and congratulations on surviving the Mayan Apocalypse!

After a few moments, he felt her hands, soft and gentle, on the side of his face, and he shivered. How he had longed to feel her touch again. Lifting his head, he met her blue eyes, shining wet with tears. "I have missed you so much," she whispered.

Possibly it was a strange sentiment; they'd seen each other nearly every day. But he understood. "And I you, me anim," he said.

"I will never let anything part us again," Evelyn whispered. She pulled his head back down to hers, kissing him slowly, thoroughly, as if to satisfy herself he was really there. Her hands ran over the smooth leather of his armor, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to see, to touch, to feel everything that lay underneath. Breaking the kiss, she glanced at the doorway. "Is there—can we go somewhere else?"

He swallowed visibly; to the best of Evelyn's knowledge, no one had ever been farther inside the depths of the mansion than this room, other than her own visits to the library downstairs. She had no idea where it was that Fenris actually slept, although occasionally she had suspected he slept in those hideous brocade chairs he seemed to like so much.

Fenris moved off of her, climbing down from the desk where they had made love so hastily and readjusting his leggings. Evelyn sat up, hopping down from the desk and pulling her pants back into place. His silence was beginning to concern her. Was he suffering from cold feet so soon after having promised himself to her? "Fenris?"

"Yes?" And then, strongly, "Yes. I would be honored if you would accompany me upstairs."

Evelyn smiled at him in relief and held out her hand.

Fenris's mouth twitched, but there was nervousness there beneath the attempt at a smile. As he took her hand, Evelyn pulled him close, leaning in and running her tongue over his full bottom lip. He groaned, reaching for her, but she danced away, retaining her hold on his hand. "Upstairs," she reminded him.

"Hm." But she was glad to see enthusiasm had overtaken the anxiety in his eyes.

He led her from the room and up the stairs, but the progress was very slow. They had to step over wires stretched across the risers, navigate around stacks of breakables in the middle of the stairs, and avoid holes that looked as though they had been intentionally created. Finally they arrived at the top of the house, and Fenris unhooked a crossbow that was cocked in front of a closed door at the end of the hall before opening the door for her.

Hawke was saddened by the room. He'd made no attempt to clean up the debris left behind by the former servants, and had brought no comforts in beyond what was already there: a single mattress thrown carelessly at the back of the room and a thin sheet and blanket over it.

She turned toward him, meaning to express what she was feeling, but he was already looking uncomfortable, studying his bare feet. He moved backward toward the door.

"I am sorry. I should not have brought you here. We—if you prefer—"

Evelyn immediately felt guilty. There had been enough discomfort between them; she didn't need to cause more by pitying him. Instead of answering with words, she began unbuttoning her blouse, letting the silky fabric slide off her arms and fall at her feet and dropping her breastband on top of it. "Please touch me," she whispered.

Fenris raised his head, surprise and gratitude and arousal chasing each other across his face. His eyes lit with his smile. "Gladly."

And then those long, sensitive fingers were on her body, one hand curving around her waist to hold her while the other traced patterns on her sensitive skin. He turned her so that the light from the dingy window fell on her body as he cupped and stroked her breasts. Evelyn clutched at his hips to hold herself up, because waves of warmth were flowing through her, weakening her knees.

Fenris dipped his head, his silky hair brushing against her skin, and took a nipple into his mouth, suckling lightly at first and then harder, as Evelyn moaned, arching her back. He was kneading the other breast as he tugged at her nipple with his teeth. Sharp spikes of arousal flashed through her. She had to taste him, as well, her mouth watering in anticipation. Pushing him back, Evelyn deftly unfastened the top of his armor. She hadn't forgotten how; far from it. In the privacy of her fantasies, she had practiced the movements over and over. Once the hardened leather was on the floor, she attacked, pressing him against the wall as her hands and mouth followed the sculpted lines of muscles in his chest and abdomen.

Lyrium sparked under her tongue, Fenris panting under her ministrations and gasping words and phrases in Arcanum. He pulled her up to him, his hands curving around the sides of her head, their gentleness an erotic complement to the savage need in his kiss.

Evelyn was throbbing, heat building between her legs. She straddled his thigh, rubbing herself against him, sighing at the contact. Fenris growled deep in his throat. His hand left her hair and grasped her rear, pulling her even harder against him. Her leg was pressed against the hard ridge in his leggings. They ground together, the only sound in the room their heavy breathing.

Lost in the haze of pleasure, Evelyn slowly became aware that Fenris was struggling with her pants, trying to pull them down without disarranging their enwined legs. She disentangled herself from him, despite his wordless protest, and shed the rest of her clothes as she walked backward toward his mattress. Naked, she lay down on it with her legs open, her hands under her head.

Fenris's eyes were blazing bright as he stared at her, nearly tripping over his own leggings in his haste to get them off. He managed at last, practically diving between her legs, his tongue finding just the spot that was in need of his touch.

Evelyn's hips came off the mattress in immediate response. "Fenris!"

A faint scraping of teeth, just there, was his reply. His tongue traced the folds and circled, circled, circled, until she was crying out, her hips moving in a desperate desire. And then he placed his mouth where she wanted him and suckled.

Lightning flashed in her vision, her blood pounding in her ears as the pleasure broke over her. Her hips dropped back onto the mattress, her arms falling limply at her sides. The aftershocks rippled through her system, leaving her weak and spent at his side. But even as her arousal ebbed, he moved to lie next to her, that splendid taut body brushing against hers, those beloved green eyes gazing at her in wonder and triumph, and she felt the released tension begin to build again.

She rolled them over until she was straddling him, the heat of his erection pressed against her own warmth. Evelyn gave an experimental movement, drawing herself along his length. Fenris's eyes closed at the sensation, his cheeks reddened and flushed with his own arousal. She bent, licking his nipples, and then, daringly, ran her tongue along one of the lines of lyrium. He drew in his breath in a long hiss and pumped his hips up against her. So she did it again.

In a single swift movement, he flipped her over and was on top of her, pinning her hands on either side of her head. There was a savagery in his eyes that told her she had pushed that particular sensation possibly farther than she should have so soon … but it thrilled her, too, and she lifted her hips against him in invitation.

Instead of sliding inside her, he arched away, removing his hands from her wrists and lowering himself to her side, his hand gently stroking her belly. "Evelyn."

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

"I want—I have desired this, desired you, too long to … hurry. I want …" He shuddered against her. "I want to go slowly."

Long, deep thrusts, she thought dizzily. Oh, yes. "Yes, please. Slow. But now. Please?"

"Mm." He bent to kiss her, moving his hips over hers. Evelyn guided him inside her, reveling in each sensation as he filled her, so slowly. And then he pulled out, almost completely, and back in again. Deliberately, without haste, with such great tenderness, kissing her cheeks and her forehead and her eyelids, his hand cupping the side of her face. Evelyn wrapped one leg around his hip, changing the angle just enough so that each movement stroked deliciously where she was most sensitive. It went on and on, the sensations too much, but Evelyn reveled in them—the scent of him so close to her, the sound of his moans in her ear, the hot, hard body pressed against hers, the hazy warmth in his green eyes as he looked at her.

Gradually his thrusts became more hurried, more erratic. "Evelyn. Evelyn, I cannot—I—"

"Almost … ah, yes … Fenris!" She drew his mouth down to hers, kissing him fiercely as their bodies thrust against each other. He cried out, shaking in her arms as the pleasure hit him, and his final thrust brought Evelyn to her release.

They lay, still entwined, their arms around each other, drifting together into the soft warmth of the Fade.