Thirty-One: Nathaniel
He released her arms with a huff, unable to keep the serious frown on his face. Leliana had a gift -- one of many, he admitted -- for making him laugh, something no one had really been able to do in years. It felt good, even if it was entirely inappropriate in the middle of an intimate...interlude.
It wasn't better that he was half-naked and more than half-hard from the sinful feeling of her hands on his skin.
He'd let her take the lead at every step so far in their relationship, terrified of overstepping, or painting a target on her back, or tainting her with his reputation. He'd waited until she approached him, made her be the one to flirt first, let her set the pace. He'd had to stop himself from asking her over and over again if she was certain she wanted to do this.
But he wanted her -- oh, how he wanted her -- and he was done with waiting. She had shown him in every way possible the feeling was mutual, and it was time to stop agonising over it and make a move. She deserved someone who would show her exactly how desirable she was, not someone frozen in condescending indecisiveness.
"I have a different idea, you little imp." He reached for her, cupping her face in his hand and tilting her chin up so he could apply his lips to her neck. She hummed in his ear and turned her head further to give him room to work. Emboldened by the obvious permission, his other hand fumbled with the laces on the back of her dress, until he felt it fall loose around her slender frame. When she stepped away again to let the dress fall at her feet, he closed his eyes briefly, sending a prayer of gratitude to the Maker.
He wished he could see her; he understood the need for privacy but would have given much for some light. Instead he stepped closer, pulling her against his chest, only to hiss as he realised she'd worn nothing under the dress and her bare breasts were pressing against him. He kissed her desperately, trying to convince himself to take his time despite the pounding of his heart and the butterflies racing in his stomach. Her arms tightened around his neck as she moaned and wriggled against him; he could feel her hard nipples dragging across his skin and he gripped her ass almost involuntarily.
Without thinking, he pulled her up into his arms; she wrapped her legs around his waist to help as he stumbled across the tent to the bedroll they'd shared the night before. He was surprised to find more there than he expected -- a few extra layers of blankets across a larger space big enough for both of them -- and was grateful for her forethought. He knelt, laying her across the blankets gently without breaking the kiss, and then shuffled to the side, propping himself up on one elbow to lean over her. He teased her with his tongue, dipping into her mouth briefly before withdrawing to slide softly along her lower lip. She growled under her breath, and he chuckled before being drawn into a deeper, soul-shattering kiss.
Then, finally, he had the chance to touch her the way he'd been dreaming of for months -- since the moment she'd walked through the door in his father's estate in Denerim. One of her arms was pinned below him, her fingers stroking his back and neck; the other was free and kept urging him on. Wanting to take his time, he took her hand and held it tightly with the arm underneath her head, then allowed his other hand to roam from her cheek, to her ear, down her neck to her collar bones. She gasped and writhed underneath him, and he made a mental note of each place that elicited a reaction to return to later. When he closed his hand over one supple breast, she shuddered and arched into his touch, and he pulled out of the kiss to curse under his breath as a spike of arousal traveled down his spine.
Leaving his hand where it was, he followed the path his fingers had taken with his lips and tongue, sucking and licking the smooth skin before peppering her chest with ardent pecks. She wove her fingers into his hair, and apparently impatient, dragged his face to her neglected breast. They both groaned as he lapped at her firm nipple before suckling gently.
He spent an eternity there, switching back and forth between her lush breasts, trying to commit every gasp and sigh to memory. He'd never been so turned on. She was delectable and sinfully sweet as she twisted underneath him, and he had to pause more than once to adjust his trousers and take a deep breath before he spilled before they'd even gotten started.
Thirty-Two: Leliana
She thought she would lose her mind; he'd played with her body, driving her mad with teasing licks and touches for what felt like hours, until she couldn't take it anymore. He'd reclaimed her free hand, so she could do nothing but wriggle and pant under his talented lips and fingers.
"Nathaniel, please!" she gasped, and finally -- finally! -- she felt his hand creeping lower, across her smooth stomach to the gap between her thighs. He paused to stroke over her mound, stirring the hairs there and leaving her panting for more. And then his mouth closed over one nipple, sucking hard, as he began stroking her lower lips. She bucked, surprised and aroused by how skilled he was, drawing out her pleasure effortlessly.
He hissed through his teeth when he finally dipped his fingers into her soaked folds, and she might have been embarrassed by how wet she was if it hadn't been entirely his fault. Instead she squirmed, alternately trying to press herself against his questing fingers and trying to free her hand to take care of the burning need herself. He hushed her, taking her lips in a passionate kiss, stroking her cleft more firmly now, teasing against her opening.
She mewled into his mouth when he stopped, withdrawing his clever fingers and his soft lips. "Wha-?" she whined, reaching for him even as he lurched to his knees beside her.
"I need to taste you," he soothed, and she felt something deep inside her clench deliciously at the thought. His tone was low and husky in a way she'd never heard before, and it sent shivers down her spine. She was too aroused to be self-conscious as he settled down between her thighs, his breath warm against her crease.
And then his mouth was on her, and she lost whatever train of thought she might have been following. She became nothing but a bundle of sensation, thrusting her hips up towards the pressure of his lips and tongue. He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder, pressing the other up towards her chest to open her to his questing mouth, and she cried out as his tongue swept from her opening to her aching pearl. She didn't even notice when her fingers clenched in his hair to urge him on.
He groaned and licked her again, before stiffening his tongue and plunging it deep inside her. It was too much and not enough at the same time, and she thrashed and ground herself against his face desperately. He tasted her almost leisurely, switching between the deep strokes she craved and the soft, tentative licks that just inflamed her more. When she whimpered and tried to pull him closer, he just pinned her hips and held her while he continued his deliberate exploration. She closed her eyes and threw her head back with a muttered curse, forced to just endure the rising pleasure.
She gasped when she felt one finger slide inside her, quickly joined by a second; they pumped into her gently but persistently as his tongue stroked over her pearl more intently. When she felt his lips wrap around the firm bud and suck, she arched and stiffened, crying out as she thrashed and came undone.
He continued to lick and stroke her as her orgasm faded, wringing several devastating aftershocks from her overwrought body. When she finally went limp, she felt him gently extricate himself from her tangled limbs and crawl up beside her. She could taste herself on his lips when he kissed her, and she moaned, helplessly aroused but too wrung out to do much about it. Somehow, he'd shucked his trousers during the transition, and she could feel his hard length against her hip.
"I won't ask who I should thank for that," she sighed, and smiled when she heard him chuff a laugh in the dark. "If this is my punishment for tickling, I think you may have made a mistake, yes?"
He kissed her again, and she lost herself in the feeling of his tongue teasing hers, his hand back on her breast, fingers tweaking her nipple softly. He shifted over her and settled between her thighs, and she flexed her hips and pulled him closer, her heels resting against the backs of his thighs, his length nudging against her damp folds.
