romdeau | a fishing date;

"If you're certain," she acquiesced, leaning up to kiss him once more, all heat and fervor. "And I'm not worried about the boat," she muttered against his lips. She supposed he'd have enough leverage to be able to hold onto her if he needed. That should be enough, or so she hoped.

She extracted herself from his embrace with some reluctance, smirking as she stood and stretched, letting him work out how he wished to position himself.

If he hadn't been, the kiss would have changed his mind. "You don't have to worry about me, either," he said, voice a little ragged.

He let her go, cool air sweeping across his lap when she pulled away and stood. Already he missed the weight of her there. With the sail and boom secured, he wasn't worried about being knocked overboard. The real question was whether his legs would hold out once things grew really heated.

He stood and turned to step up onto the seat, one hand to the mast to steady himself. The boat rocked a little side to side as he turned, leaning his weight slightly against the solid wood. Easing his hands back against it, he found that he could brace himself quite well, particularly when he found rope to grip. "This feels secure."

"Small chance of that happening," she retorted gently, watching him step up onto the bench. Why she was concerned, she hadn't the faintest clue. It wasn't as if she and her friends didn't engage in equally dangerous pastimes on a regular basis or found themselves in precarious situations. But it was another thing entirely when it was in the course of a sexual act. She wasn't certain his legs would hold him, nor that she would be able to keep him from dropping if they couldn't.

She stepped up before him once he was in place, reaching up to smooth her hands down his sides and over his hips. Even with the fabric separating them, she could feel the muscles of his stomach and thighs as her fingers moved downwards, caressing for now, admiring and possibly toying with him to get a reaction. "You can hold onto me if you need," she offered. It might throw off his balance eventually but her shoulders were there if he needed something.

Balancing up on her toes, she moved her hands beneath his shirt and dragged her fingers over his stomach and abdomen. "Take that off," she murmured, something of a command and partially a request.

His breath came faster, a visible rise and fall beneath his shirt. He felt somehow exposed standing up on the bench that way. It was more exciting than unpleasant. He bit his lower lip as he watched her, her pale hands showing up well against his clothing in the moonlight. It was more than she had been able to explore him with both of them seated closely.

"I will if I have to," he agreed. He wasn't so stubborn or proud that he would risk falling on her. If he truly couldn't hold his weight, he'd change positions before it reached a critical point of no return.

The muscle fluttered slightly beneath her touch, small twitches that weren't quite flinches. She was treading a fine line between stimulation and tickling. He nodded, reaching down to take the hem in his hands and tug the shirt over his head. He offered it to her silently to be set aside, worried that if he dropped it from that height it would catch enough wind to land in the water.

That satisfied her enough and she nodded, taking his shirt gingerly from him and setting it down in a corner so it wouldn't be lost. In the moonlight, exposed, she could see much more of him than she could earlier. She could admire the muscle structure and the way his chest rose and fell with his quickened breathing. A flicker of a smile was tossed his way, meant to be reassuring, before she went back to the task at hand.

Her fingers slowed so she could take her time, putting more pressure into the way she touched him as though she were almost attempting to massage the muscles she found. She worked her way down and fanned outwards with her ministrations, following muscle lines in his skin until she was met with the top of his breeches, where she could swipe her fingers over the fabric and hook a thumb in the side just to test how much give she had.. She leaned in so she could press a brief, teasing kiss to his stomach, one hand settling on his hip to keep him still.

He resumed his hold on the mast, the position having his back slightly arched, chest jutting forward and a little upward. He smiled, too, and then her hands were on him, cool and callused in places from her blade work. He liked that, never having been able fully to trust a completely soft hand.

He rested the back of his head against the mast, letting his eyes slide shut so that he could concentrate on how she followed every dip and swell. The waistband had a bit of give to it. He hadn't tied the lacing tightly when he had pulled his pants back on. The press of lips to his stomach sent it fluttering again, a brief tuck inward that settled once his body caught on to the fact she wasn't tickling him. His inhale was a soft hiss of air through his teeth, eyes cracking back open to slits to watch her from beneath sandy lashes.

He was a sight just like that, practically on display for her. She took a breath to steady her nerves, on edge with arousal, and directed her smile towards his stomach in her exploration. Every dip and give of muscle, accentuated when he tucked in reflexively, was mapped with her fingers as she looked for the places he was most sensitive.

Her moth was more gentle, at first, so he knew where she was and what she was doing. Her fingers hooked into the side of his breeches, the other coming to his front to knead slow circles into his thigh, when she grazed her teeth along his lower abdomen and gave a swipe of her tongue for good measure. She brought her hand up to unlace the top of his pants, thumb sliding along the inner curve of his thigh.

He seemed most sensitive in the tuck of muscle beneath the brace of his rib cage, his entire body shivering when she touched him there. Also, close to his navel, as his breath hitched when he felt her mouth.

Maker's breath, he was already feeling weak in the knees, thighs flexing to keep him firmly planted in place. His next exhale contained voice, a soft, low sound for the gentle bite and sweep of tongue. He tightened his grip on the rope beneath his hands, nails digging into the weave.

It took all of his self control not to rock forward suggestively and keep still while she worked at the laces. He couldn't look away, glad of the moonlight.

She breathed warmth over the patch of moisture she left in the wake of her tongue, practically purring at the sound he made. It sent a little thrill up her spine and she finally decided that, yes, she wasn't adverse to leaving a reminder here. But not yet. She pulled the loose knots of his laces free so he wasn't so constricted, giving him the heel of her palm to rub against at his leisure.

"You should see yourself," she murmured appreciatively, casting her gaze upwards even as she tugged his breeches down just enough to tease him further but not enough to free him. "You're beautiful." It wasn't something she said often to a man, but it was true; the way he pressed himself back, letting his chest puff out...the control he had over his movements, even with what she was doing. It was tantalizing in a way she couldn't describe. The moonlight on his bare skin only made him look more attractive as he was bathed in its glow.

She dipped her head back down to press a more solid kiss to his muscles, laving attention over them as she made her way down to the connection of his his hip, where she latched her mouth and sucked hard enough to raise a faint mark.

His brow furrowed in pleasure, eyes squeezing briefly shut. The release of the squeeze of the laces was a boon, but it was the heat and pressure of her palm that elicited the stronger reaction. He pushed very slightly and subtly at first, just enough for slow friction through the cloth.

"Heh." It was almost an uncomfortable sound, not quite laughter, sudden and unexpected, as unexpected as the compliment. "I, ah... That's not something I hear. Ever." After another moment he gave her a fleeting smile. "That sounded ungrateful. I should have said 'thank you'."

With her mouth on him, words fled again and left him gasping. That felt so good, a slight sting from the tightness of the skin there. He rocked against her hand again, a more insistent push. If she was interested in seeing him unravel in increments, she was doing exactly the right things.

Every faint rock against her hand was rewarded with firmer pressure against him as she let him decide his own pacing. She kissed him as she might do the same to his lips, slow, languid movements of her mouth followed by small nips and swipes of her tongue when it suited her.

She chuffed a laugh against him, palming him once more and leaving her hand there. "You sound surprised, not ungrateful." She was grateful she wasn't looking directly at him, her smile slightly embarrassed.

Her hand was there to rock into at first as she closed her teeth carefully around the mark she made and soothed it with her tongue. But the next drag of teeth was lower still as she started to slide his pants further off of his hips and her hand found his smalls. She rubbed him once and then moved her hand back just an inch or two to tease him. A feral smile followed as she hooked her fingers in his smallclothes.

His eyes kept trying to roll, focus harder to maintain by the moment. How could a mouth over his stomach have him aching so hard? It was every bit as enticing as her hand, a slow tease that had him fidgeting and trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to do with his hands. Holding to the rope was unsatisfying. He reached down to touch her, a light brush of fingers through her hair and a massaging squeeze against the back of her head.

"I was surprised. Pleasantly." His voice was thicker, dropped down to a more intimate register.

He half swallowed the moan that came with embarrassing ease. When he felt her pause, he met her gaze and nodded once. "Yes, please..." he murmured, not too proud to ask.

The touch of his fingers caught her attention immediately and she tilted her head back into his hand, a quiet hum slipping out against his lower stomach. She nodded, finally moving her hands back to remove as much of his clothing as she might dare, her fingers caressing over the bare skin shown to her.

Once he was exposed to her, she finally saw fit to look back up at him, giving him a faint smile. Her grip tightened on his hips, fingers digging into the fine muscle there as she looked on him. The first touch was simple, one hand straying down to simply cup him gently and glide her thumb over the tip. She shifted her stance enough so shouldn't need to do so again, dipping her head. She exhaled purposefully, spilling warmth over him.

She was beautiful, something he had noticed on many occasions in a more abstract, detached way. Now it was close and intimate, every one of those caresses of lips and fingers having him shivering, skin sensitive and reactive. It was all the more so from being touched so rarely and almost never there, a vulnerable place he didn't typically expose in the presence of others.

He held his breath, lower lip worried between his teeth. His erection leaped gently forward into her touch, another harder twitch from the passage of her thumb. When he felt her breath he could no longer hold his own. It came out in bare vocalization, a sound softer than the steady chop of waves against the sides of the boat. His toes curled against the soles of his boots.

She wasn't altogether certain he had made any sort of sound, though she glanced up at him once. Her eyes went back to the task at hand as she loosely gripped him, stroking him once, twice for good measure. But then she was putting her mouth to good use, taking him in just past her lips. Her tongue swiped the head of him gently first, and then again with a bit more force to gauge which one would give her the better reaction.

One hand stayed at his hip to anchor herself, fingers digging in and massaging tense muscle. The other continued to stroke him in slow, careful measures, motions in time with the way her mouth moved. Carefully, she took more of him in, one inch at a time.

He kept his desire to rock forward into her hold partially in check. He couldn't bring himself to be quite that lewd. He wasn't that far gone. It didn't stop the smaller contractions of muscle, the subtle presses. His head tipped back abruptly against the mast with the first touch of her mouth. The groan that followed was completely audible. His hand at the back of her head clenched in her hair.

He continued gasping past parted lips, ragged breaths that he had to fight to keep from turning into moans. It was embarrassing to be reduced to this so quickly. Had she felt the same way earlier? Oh, Maker, he hoped so. He wouldn't want to be the only one. The control keeping him from thrusting forward felt as though it was eroding by the moment.

The hand tightening in her hair had her nearly groaning, her shoulders tensing. She took him deeper just the same, working her mouth around him and stroking the underside of his shaft with her tongue. Her fingers kept going, moving up and down, caressing what her mouth hadn't gotten to just yet. It allowed her to see where was most sensitive, where she might be able to get more of those moans of his.

She backed off briefly for a breath, relaxing her jaw muscles. And then, with a quick squeeze of his hip, she took as much of him as she could, until he was brushing the back of her throat. She was careful not to take him too far, not enough to gag her, but enough to test her own endurance.

The only thing preventing him from losing himself to sensation entirely was the need to stay upright and balanced. In a way he was grateful for it. He wasn't sure what he'd be doing if he were lying down right now beyond writhing helplessly. Every flick of tongue just beneath the head and slip of her fingers close to the base had small jolts passing through his hips and thighs.

When she pulled off, he caressed her hair, his grip loosening. "This feels amazing," he murmured. He had drawn a breath for more only to lose it altogether in the warm, wet, tight plunge downward. He groaned, his head tossing back hard enough to impact the mast with some force. "Oh, Maker..." he gasped. "Maker's breath...Hawke..."

"Mm?" she mumbled against him, eyes flicking up to his face. She had no intention of stopping, sliding him partly out of her mouth only to take him deeper once more. She gave a squeeze to his hip affectionately, pleased to already having him gasping. He was rewarded as she slowed only long enough to stroke the underside of his length with her tongue, rough pressure to offset her more languid pacing.

Her other hand was exploring too, testing his boundaries just as she was testing her own. Her touch lingered further down, over his balls, massaging with the tips of her calloused fingers. She groaned once more for good measure, this time with a very clear intention in mind.

His hand continued to flex and clench, rubbing lower over her neck. He massaged into the muscle there, the squeeze both affectionate and encouraging. His cock pressed back against her tongue, motion out of his control entirely. A delicious heat coiled in his belly and spread outward, all the way through his fingers and toes. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

His hips jerked slightly, the vibrations from the sound she made causing his muscles to clench and hold the tension. He rocked several short thrusts, careful not to plunge deep. His other hand released its grip of the mast behind him, seeking her shoulder and arm, to touch her anywhere he could reach.

Hawke responded with an appreciative purr, pressing back into his fingers when she pulled back enough. She hollowed out her cheeks and sucked this time, her hand gripping him tighter for leverage. As he pressed against her, she opened her mouth wider and backed off just enough, searching for a rhythm to match what he wanted. It would be difficult without eventually taking him too deep but... Well, she wasn't afraid of that for the time being, too caught up in the sensations and the sounds he was making to much care.

She broke away for just a moment for a deep inhale, lips moist with saliva, though her hands never left him for a single second. When she was ready, she shifted the weight on her feet and stepped back in to have him once more, a few more shallow sucks before she relaxed her mouth again to draw him in as deep as she could allow. Her nose brushed his pelvis, a faint groan reverberating through her at her success.

He shifted his hand back into her hair, lifting it away from her forehead and tucking it back, more affectionate touching. It was the only way he could reciprocate in the moment, to let her know what she was doing to him, how amazing it felt. His breath came in harsh rhythm, sometimes through his nostrils, sometimes through the part of lips when he was too breathless for anything else.

"Andraste's pyre," he groaned softly, eyes squeezing shut. He held still for her, back arched and body straining an arc of intense pleasure. His thighs quivered, and he locked one knee to bring himself back to better balance. He didn't want to have to stop her to change position, determined to fight to hold what he could for as long as he could. It was increasingly a challenge.

She could feel the strain in his legs through her fingers and she massaged insistently at his hip, her hand slipping behind to cup his arse briefly and then move lower. She worked into the muscles at the backs of his thighs in some effort to relieve the tension, even as she made it worse with her mouth. The last thing she wanted was for him to push himself too far and end up falling.

Her tongue slid along whatever she could manage while he was in her mouth and she let up only so she could find other areas for her to lave and give attention to. After a time, she came up for another long and slow inhale through her nostrils, then through her mouth as she attempted to steady her breathing. One look at him was all it took to have her flushing further, briefly smirking before she took him in again. The pace was a little harsher this time, determined as she was to get him to let go as much control as he dared give her.

Not at all for the first time that night, he found himself wishing he'd had the forethought to get them a flat bottomed boat. It would make all of this so much easier. The massaging, no matter how good it felt, wasn't enough to offset the things she was able to do to him with her mouth. Just the fact that she had wanted to and seemed to be enjoying herself was enough to have him breathless.

During her breathing break, he cupped both of her cheeks with his hands, thumbs gently rubbing across the soft skin. If he had thought he could bend forward without possibly rocking the boat, he would have kissed her then. The moment passed, and with the renewed assault, he had to reach back again toward the mast. He needed the extra support with his hips jerking harder. They were still small motions. He had enough control for that, but his vocalizations were coming more frequently, low groans on his exhales. The pleasure was slower to build than it would have been before his first release. He still didn't think it would be long. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he murmured.

If he knew what he was doing to her. The hands in her hair, massaging her neck and scalp, the heated look he gave her when he cupped her face... It was enough to have her breathless on its own, her heart racing. She was loathe to let go of him for even a moment, mindlessly just wanting to touch him and have him, but she relented and settled a hand on his briefly as he took her cheeks in his grasp. She faintly smiled, pressing moist lips together absently as she tried to get her head working again. It spun in wound-up circles of ideas and desires, all culminating in what little she could give him in the position they were in.

With another squeeze, she quickened her pace just a little more, though she was certain to keep it at a manageable rhythm with what little movement they could safely afford. The bobs of her head were somewhat more shallow as she tried for a faster pace, but she would offset that every so often with a slower, deeper suck, a hum of a groan for him to feel, and a faint squeeze at the base of his shaft. Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

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