romdeau | a fishing date;

Entry tags:

a fishing date;

There were no impromptu trips to Sundermount, in fact. Merrill had holed herself up with the Eluvian, avoiding Hawke whenever possible. The Arulin'Holm stayed at the estate, locked away somewhere, and the Dalish woman didn't want to see or hear from Hawke without good cause. Which was understandable (upsetting, but understandable), and she let Varric and Isabela take over Merrill's undertaking. They'd update her whenever possible and she was infinitely grateful, though she knew things couldn't stay that way forever. Eventually, they'd need to talk, and that would happen when Marian was good and ready. For now, she wasn't.

First on her mind was Anders and his mage underground. He would disappear for days on end, surfacing only to work in his clinic where he would refuse to go on any errands. Too busy, he'd say, occupied with his patients and his manifesto. It didn't stop him from pressing worn papers into her hands at every opportunity, the bastard. Her desk was full of Anders' scrawl, damning evidence if anyone should walk in and ask about it. She'd been certain to lock them in the bottom drawer, out of sight and out of mind, but she couldn't put him off any more than she could push aside the trouble she had with Merrill.

With her hands full of Kirkwall's smaller troubles - bandits, a few raiders on the outskirts, and a blood mage or two - she had nearly forgotten her plans with Cullen until she returned one night to a note on her desk at the end of the week. Even such a simple thing was enough to brighten her mood considerably and she packed that evening, though she wasn't to meet him for two more days.

She used the time to tell only a few that she'd be gone from the city, that no one was kidnapping her, and that she'd be very cross if she came back to find Kirkwall burning in her absence. Only Isabela and Varric gave her a hard time for her attempts at discretion, asking for details and gaining nothing.

By sunset on the second day, she was down by the docks to meet him, a pack slung over one arm and her blades across her shoulders, her eyes on the ships and the few workers lingering around. She couldn't be too careful, even now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

She obviously did. He needed both hands back on the rope coiled around the mast, his grip as much to help support him as to have something to do with his hands while she worked him up to fever pitch.

The tremors in his legs grew stronger, the rhythm of hips breaking to something less predictable. Breath hissed through his teeth; his eyes rolled back beneath their lids, and his head twisted to the side, exposing his throat. "It's not...not going to be much longer," he warned her. If she wanted to stop then, he wanted to give her that chance, not spring it on her unaware.

A rumble passed from her to him as she considered the way he was fighting for control, the small quivers in his legs making her want to smile. She fought the impulse with another bob of her head, pressing in until she met his pelvis, nearly gagging herself. Her fingers danced over his legs as if to encourage him not to hold back. She certainly wasn't.

The warning heeded, she pulled back and let her hand take her place for a few moments while she breathed, fingers sliding through slick moisture. She cast him a look and an impish smile, ducking her head to lick the tip. Moving both hands to his thighs, she took him back into her mouth and finally succumbed to a much more rigorous pacing, wanting him to enjoy that mounted pleasure before it crested. She took some care to ensure she wouldn't be fighting to breathe, though there was a certain thrill in cutting off her air supply even so briefly, and she wanted to indulge him as much as she could.

Another reason he was grateful to be standing was that he was better able to watch her than he would have managed lying down. It was an incredible sight in moonlight, her dark hair in such sharp contrast to her skin as well as his, the glitter of her eyes every time she looked at him.

When she pulled back, he shifted his stance enough to give the mast more of his weight in a lean. He rocked up into her grip, several hard thrusts while bracing himself with his hands. He slowed for the smile and couldn't help but return it, giving an appreciative hum for the teasing lick. He shook his head slightly, part of him still in disbelief this was happening at all.

He took only enough care not to choke her in that final quicker pace, giving what she seemed to be asking of him, to let go and enjoy. He watched her until he had to close his eyes again, jolts of pleasure shooting through him until it crested and broke. He cried out, legs trembling but holding while several hard pulses rocked him. "Hawke..." he gasped, his voice ragged.

That smile could make her toes curl, his look so unguarded and appreciative. She wished they were in a better position so she could admire him better without having to turn her head so much, but there were smaller, more intimate cues that she adored too, from the shift of his grip and his moans to the way his body shuddered as she touched him. And those, by far, were more honest than anything that could be said with words.

She squeezed his thighs briefly in reward when she continued, fighting back her gag reflex the few times she took him in too deeply. It was a precarious balance that would pay off in the end and it did when he finally broke, her tongue tasting the first splash before he pressed further into her mouth and spilled.

Even swallowing what she could, some of it still made its way past her lips, and she lifted a hand to catch what was left while he finished. She sucked him once more and then released him with a wet sound that only could be called obscene, ducking her head so she could run her thumb over her lips and clean herself up.

His legs were rubbery enough that he didn't trust them to hold him without the aid of his hands on the mast to come down to her. He felt as though he had to, right then, wanting nothing more than to kiss her deeply, intimately. He wobbled a little, stumbled into her, and drew her into his arms.

Despite being spent, he kissed her hard, one arm across her back, one hand at the back of her head. His breath was noisy through nostrils, still not fully caught from the intense orgasm. When he had to breathe, he turned his mouth just slightly, only enough to part lips and draw in the air. He could taste himself on her lips and tongue. "That was so good," he murmured. "Maker's breath you had me dying up there."

She lifted her head as he came down, reaching out a hand in case he needed something to steady him. "Careful—" she protested, afraid he'd trip or fall. Whatever else she might have had to say was quickly cut off by his lips and the arms pulling her against him.

It only occurred to her moments later that he could probably taste himself, the thought eliciting a soft groan against his mouth, her fingers digging into his back. She was just as breathless as he when they parted, her eyes bright with mirth as she watched him from under her lashes. "I was afraid your legs would give out," she whispered back, fighting back her smirk.

"Mmmm," he hummed under his breath, smiling and nuzzling against her. "Worth the effort," he said. "And then some." He kissed her again, lashes fluttering as he closed his eyes.

He massaged a circle against her back, fingers squeezing into muscle. Pulling away from the kiss, he whispered close to her ear, "I want to do something else for you, too." He tugged playfully at her shirt hem. "You're a little too dressed for it, though."

Maker, that smile of his was almost too much for her. She ducked her head briefly, pleased, and was all too happy to take the second kiss offered to her, her fingers threading into his hair. How they had managed to come this far so easily was still a mystery to her and she didn't dare to question it just then. Not when she still couldn't quite think past how nice it was.

Hawke shivered when he pulled close to her ear, smiling at herself. She turned her head towards him, raising an eyebrow. "Hm?" She kissed his shoulder while she had him there, lips curled against his skin. "What do you have in mind, Sera?"

"Something I hope you're going to enjoy," he said, deliberately being a little mysterious. He reached up between them to begin unfastening her shirt, taking his time and letting the backs of his fingers brush her skin.

"You'll get to sit again on the most comfortable seat in the boat." He could get very used to the weight of her in his lap. The air was just cool enough that it felt extra nice having body heat against him. He knew he'd need to remember to pull his breeches back up before they sat. She had a way of distracting him from the details.

She chuckled, letting him take care of her shirt. Her hands found a place on his shoulders until he was ready to remove the garment hugging her torso, and then she would give him the room he needed to do so.

"With an offer like that, who am I to refuse?" she teased gently, tilting her head to take his lips again in a much slower, more sensual press. It wasn't meant to distract him but she wouldn't complain if it did. He'd worked her up and she was surprised to find how much she liked touching him and being close.

Once he had the shirt open, he playfully tugged her against him by both ends of the shirttail. He liked the press of body to body without the cloth in the way. He didn't break the slow kiss, merely holding her there by the pressure of the cloth until he finally needed more breath than that.

Reaching down to his breeches, he tugged them up along with his small clothes but left the laces untied. There was no need to bother with them. He stepped a couple of steps back and took a seat where he had been standing. Sliding a hand down her arm, he tangled his fingers loosely with hers to draw her closer to him so he could work on her pants.

She grinned as he tugged her in, but she couldn't help the faint sigh she let out as he pulled them flush together. He was warm even with the slight chill in the air and she was more than happy to remain where she was until he wanted her otherwise, lips on his.

Anticipation had her almost squirming when he broke away and she watched him curiously, her fingers mingling with his. A thin eyebrow shot up in surprise when he went for her trousers. "I thought you said —" But he hadn't specified when he said she was wearing too much, had he? She shook her head, reaching up to smooth calloused fingers over his shoulder and across his back. She was dying to know what was running through his head.

"That you were overdressed?" he prompted, grinning. "I did say that, yes." He tugged the laces gently and loosened them with his fingers before taking her breeches down over the swell of her hips, down her thighs, and just past her knees. "That should be far enough," he said. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her lower stomach, his hands in a light squeeze of her hips. "Maker's breath, you're beautiful."

He prompted her to turn around with a twist of his grip. "Take your shirt down? I'd like to feel your back against my chest. If you get cold, we'll figure something out." He didn't intend to allow it if he could help it.

"Yes, that." She smiled at his impish behavior, her body tensing as he ran his hands down her legs. She was beginning to guess what he wanted but she didn't vocalize her suspicions; she wanted him to show her what he had planned instead. The suspense, after all, was a game in and of itself. But that didn't stop the tingle of a shiver up her spine as he kissed her lower belly nor did it keep the faint warmth out of her cheeks. Her smile broadened and she ran an appreciative set of fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

It was a gesture that didn't last long with him coaxing her around and she shot him a glance over her shoulder as she tugged off her shirt. "And the band?" she asked, a hint of suggestiveness in her tone.

"Yes," he said. He reached up to run his fingertips down her back, a gentle touch with a hint of nails. "The band, too, if you please." It was a provocative view. She was a natural tease, and he was enjoying every minute of it.

He leaned back against the mast, lids dropping lower as he waited for her. It didn't matter to him that he was physically spent. Mentally, he was eager to do this for her, wanting more intoxicating contact.

Edited (Splelling. Wat is?) 2012-09-10 07:35 (UTC)

It was easy to undo the laces on the back of her band and remove it, and she made no great show despite the heated look she gave him as he ran his hand over her back. She pressed back into his hand briefly then with a crooked smile.

Once discarded, it was a little more difficult to step back towards him with her pants around her knees, but she was certain he'd guide her into the position he wanted her in.

He guided her back to him with his hands at her hips, careful not to pull her faster than she could manage with her breeches down. "Right here," he said, giving her his lap. He reached down to push the pants down further so that she could spread her knees comfortably. "If you want to kick them off, go ahead. I didn't want you getting cold."

He curled forward then, chest to back, and wrapped his arms around her, one hand lifting and cupping across a breast, the other in a warm spread across her stomach. He rested his chin at the top of her shoulder and pressed the side of his head against hers. "I think I like this position. I can touch you wherever I want." He moved his hands in a slow caress, for now focused on warming her and teasing exploration.

Once seated, she made herself comfortable, a lazy smile on her features. "Oh, you're right. Best seat on the boat." She was more comfortable than she'd admit, the contrast of cool air on her front and the warmth of his body just out of reach. She wriggled once, debating whether she wanted to kick her trousers off or not. "I have a feeling I'll be warm enough with you," she decided, shucking them off.

And she was right about that. With his front flush against her back, he heated her skin well enough. His hands added to that, wrapped around her front and a hand closing around her breasted. She bristled contentedly as he explored her, chuckling. "You say that as if I can't touch you back." Her hands reached back to settle on his thighs to prove her point.

He smiled and leaned in, letting his breath tickle the side of her throat as he spoke. "That just makes it all the better." He lipped lightly over her pulse and ran his tongue up to her ear, playing along her earlobe and the outer shell. Going back in, he tugged at it gently with his lips.

All the while he let his hands explore, feeling the softness of her stomach, the harder contours of her ribs, the pleasant weight of her breasts against his palms. He pushed one hand back lower to caress along her inner thigh, enough pressure to spread her legs further.

"Mmh," was all the response he would get out of her for that comment, warm breath ghosting over her throat. It was very, very hard to imagine it had been a long time for him, not with the way he could easily have her wanting. Perhaps it said more about her instead, that it had been quite some time since she'd been with anyone.

She didn't let those sorts of thoughts distract her. His hands occupied her mind instead, and she kneaded small circles into his thighs in reciprocation while his fingers glided over her skin. At his bidding, she spread her legs a little more and she glanced back at him in question.

He smiled slightly when he met her gaze, his hand sliding up the rest of the way and cupping against soft hair and softer skin beneath it. He spread his fingers slightly, fitting them against the shallow folds and teasing her with a promise of more.

"Until I can get you into a bed, this is going to have to do," he murmured. Not that he particularly felt like he was settling for anything lesser. what they lacked in true comfort they seemed to be making up for in a willingness to adapt. Having her flush against him where he could feel every breath and squirm was no less intimate than it would be on a mattress.

He kissed down her neck and across the top of her shoulder, rubbing her with his fingers and supporting her in the cradle of his other arm. He wanted her to be able to relax as much as possible.

The smile she returned to him was interrupted when she sharply inhaled, his fingers dipping into her smalls. Her body pressed back into his chest and she tried once more to grin, succeeding, though she was already close to squirming against him.

"You're doing just fine without one," she encouraged quietly, knuckles brushing into his legs. Too late she realized this would leave her far too open and vulnerable for him eventually. The way she spread her legs said she didn't much mind. Not at the moment, at least.

She arched into his touch, hips pressing forward to meet his fingers. "You're...very good at this," she mumbled appreciatively.

"I think we've both managed pretty well all things considered," he said sincerely. He doubted he'd have taken much more pleasure from anything she had done to him yet just by virtue of lying down.

He ducked his head and pressed his smile against her shoulder. A little more heat radiated from his cheeks. "Thank you." He gave her a playful nip to distract from how easily she flustered him, a less playful scrape of teeth closer to the juncture of her neck. He took care not to mark her anywhere someone might see it.

He was content to let her set some of the pace when it came to how he touched her. Sliding his middle finger between her lips he pressed up to encourage her to rock her hips again. He hummed softly and murmured, "Have I mentioned you feel really good? If I have it bears repeating."

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