romdeau | a fishing date;

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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.

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"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."

She chuckled, the sound lighter than usual as he stroked her. Her toes curled against the bottom of the boat. "Surprisingly so." Considering how small the boat was and how eager they were to undo one another. It was a wonder the little thing hadn't capsized.

Fingers tugged and toyed with the fabric of his trousers, incapable of keeping her thoughts too clear when he was kissing her shoulder and pressing his fingers up against her. That just wasn't fair. She turned her hand so she could fit it to his hip, rubbing circles there instead.

She chuffed another breathless laugh as she pushed up against his fingers once more, shivering at the sensation. "Maker, Cullen," she whispered. "What do I even say to a compliment like that?"

"When I feel especially flustered, I find a 'thank you' can't go wrong," he teased, delighted to have turned the tables. He hadn't been sure it was possible. He kissed her again through his grin, a soft chuckle shaking him under her.

He was liking the position more by the moment given just how much of her reaction he could feel and the way she was able to keep touching him, too. He was perfectly warm with her in his lap and cool air blowing across his back. A shift of forearm forward allowed him to get a deeper penetration, still mostly shallow unless he curled his finger. As he rubbed back and forth, he did so once, testing how much leverage he could get. He latched onto a spot further down her shoulder with his lips, slowly suckling up a small red spot. He hadn't yet decided if he wanted to leave a bruise, but he was leaning toward a yes on that.

He got a pinch to his hip for that and she shot him a look that tried to be a scowl. It failed horribly; she broke into another grin as he kissed her. "Thank you."

Her fingers curled against his side as his fingers explored her further, rubbing against her folds. She shifted and started as he curled his finger, a quiet hitch in her breath following. Her thighs tensed and her hips rolled forward without her bidding from that gesture alone. She squeezed his leg to encourage him further as she sucked her lower lip between her teeth to worry at it while he continued. Yes, this was most definitely a good idea, even if it left her aching for more, heat coiling within her ever so slowly.

His grin blossomed fully for the look she shot him. She was fun to tease. He realized he'd be enjoying this date regardless of what they had chosen to do, or where. He decided he'd keep that in mind for future dates so they wouldn't be so far from basic amenities.

He didn't need much encouragement to continue. He wanted to pleasure her, to give her the same sort of toe curling stimulation she had given to him. He gently worked his index finger in beside the middle and began to squeeze both up and slightly back, a rhythmic twisting of his wrist helping them deeper.

When he drew his lips away from the faint bruise, he let his tongue follow the line of tendon in her throat, peppered soft kisses behind and against the hinge of her jaw, and gave an affectionate caress of his cheek along the side of her hair. A cup of her breast in his free hand allowed him to toy lightly with her nipple, rubbing a callused fingertip across it to see how she liked to be touched.

After seeing his almost always neutral expression in the Gallows for three years, it was pleasant to see him smile so much. It suited him much more than the scowls the Templars tried on to discourage trouble. If nothing else came of this night, she'd still try to find reasons to get him to smile when she saw him in the Gallows.

The further he pushed, the more sounds he received for his troubles. Hawke did her best to keep herself quiet and, indeed, she wasn't making as much noise as she could have been. But now her breathing was deepening as he stimulated her, small moans attached to every other exhale as his fingers twisted within her.

She leaned back into his touch, into his lips and his cheek. She rubbed back in a half-nuzzle with what little leverage she had, fingers working over the muscles in his sides and massaging them gratefully. A particularly delightful twist of his wrist, coupled with his finger rubbing over her nipple, had her squirming. "Oh," she whispered intelligently, her body responding as well as it could. She wanted to be back against him and rolling forward into his hands at the same time, and this was something she couldn't accomplish, much to her dismay. She pressed her head back against him and his shoulder instead as she hummed, nipping down on her lip to keep as quiet as she could manage.

He was too spent for full arousal again. The noises she was making had his body giving a valiant effort, a few stirs between his legs having him groaning softly. His kisses grew more sensual, all along the side of her throat and jaw where he could reach.

He offered her a steady rhythm of thrusting with his fingers, wrist strong and capable of precision. Always he sought to go a little deeper, limited by the position. It pressed him harder against her clit. He could feel it rolling against his palm and let out another soft sound.

He wanted his mouth on her again, made up for it with another suckle closer to her ear. Like her, his breath was coming deeper and more quickly. He couldn't do this and not be affected.

She pressed up against his fingers in time with the rhythm he set for her, breathing uneven and her leg muscles beginning to quiver from the strain. He was brushing all of the right places, the callouses on the pads of his fingers stimulating her just as well. He coaxed far too much out of her just by doing that.

And on the other side, he was pressing intimate kisses along her throat enough to have her melting back into his body, hands insistently moving because she could do little else. "Yes, like that," she gasped softly, a whimper following her words. She pressed into his fingers to take them deeper on her own, even if he couldn't do it properly with the angle he was in.

She could feel how wet she was because of him, embarrassingly so. The thought alone had her toes curling and her muscles tightening. If he kept pressing his fingers against her clit, it wouldn't take long to finish her. She grasped him tighter and moved her hips more, refusing to be passive even when he was doing most of the work.

He nodded understanding and gave her as much of his hand as he possibly could. It helped that she pushed forward. The change of angle allowed him a little more play that he took advantage of. His hand at her breast was more insistent, too, a sharper tug of nipple as he cupped upward with his palm.

He moved with her, flexes of thighs helping to rock her over him. He was aching to taste her again, prompted by the slickness he could feel against his fingers and spreading down his hand. There was no way he intended to stop or slow. He wasn't out to tease her.

"Turn your face toward me," he murmured. "I want to kiss you."

It was enough to nearly drag a growl out of her throat, short blunt nails digging into his side. She shifted, feeling herself clenching down on his fingers enough to have her twisting pleasantly in his hold. Spreading her legs just a little further allowed him more room to work but it also gave her the chance to twine her leg with his and rub her foot over the outside of his calf. She was eager to reciprocate and desperate for friction.

Hawke could sooner stop the world than deny him his request; she turned enough to the side so neither of them needed to strain themselves, her hand reaching up to curl at the back of his head. She offered him her mouth and pressed hers against his hungrily.

Edited (what the heck was that formatting) 2012-09-11 13:18 (UTC)

He pressed back against her leg, flexing his calf and ankle beneath the touch of her foot. In rocking up under her, he discovered he could angle her to work his fingers in up to the third knuckle. It was even easier when she twisted in his arms.

He kissed her hard. His arm wrapped across her held her well in place, hand lifted in the back of her hair in a tight clench. Mentally and physically, he found himself responding to her hunger for this at a visceral level. The boat was rocking again, but it was something he registered only at a distant level. They were in no danger of tipping as centered as they were.

His teeth raked her lower lip, tongue slipping past both for a deep twine against hers. He could taste himself in her mouth, so erotic it had him moaning. His hand in her hair slipped down to the top of her shoulder, a kneading grasp. There was no way he could be still now. His fingers within her glided easily from the wetness, thrusting and twisting in a tight press.

His fingers buried in her, his wrist twisting, had her arching back into him, which didn't force her to change how she was seated so she could kiss him. Nerves standing on edge, every touch dragged more sounds from her throat that she could only muffle against his lips in the vain attempt to smother herself.

The hand in her hair had her breathless and she curved a smile against his lips. She gave him back everything he gave, the hard press of his mouth mirrored by hers. She slid her tongue against his and drank in his moan, her fingers sliding into his hair. Her hips rocked into his fingers eagerly, careful not to move too fast.

She was so close, evident when his next twist had her whimpering, and she closed her teeth over his bottom lip and worried at the skin there. She swiped her tongue over the bite in apology moments later and she murmured his name quietly, desperate.

He wanted that for her. He could feel the change in her, the tightening of muscle, the way she clenched over his fingers. He liked the bite, growling soft approval. He pressed his palm in hard against her clit, letting it rub with every thrust of his fingers.

"Yes," he gasped between the desperate kisses. He hardly knew why beyond the fact it was something his whole body was saying. Yes to more contact. Yes to more pleasure. Yes to her release, nothing else in the moment mattering at all.

She rubbed herself on his hand, shivering at the feeling. Yes, that was perfect, and she tilted her head to capture his lips in another needy kiss. She could feel his body moving with hers, helping to rock her into his hand, movements almost in sync. It brought her that much closer to what she needed.

"Shit," she whispered, the sound half-broken by his lips. Hips bucked into his waiting hand as she felt her blood boil and her threadbare control snap. Her grip tightened in his hair moments before her release and when it hit, she arched once more up against him with a sharp cry. Her body shuddered and she could heel herself pulsing around his fingers, breathing coming hot and uneven. She let her hips continue forward, rolling against his hand a few more times in an effort to ride out her orgasm.

He drank in the cries, holding to her tightly enough to keep her from losing her seat in his lap while giving her the freedom to move the way she needed to wring out the last of the pleasure. He slowed with her, slowed his hand and then stopped moving it altogether. He kept it in place, knowing she'd let him know when she had enough.

He kissed her shoulder, her throat, languid, affectionate presses of lips. Releasing her hair, he caressed his hand lower along the side of her shoulder and arm to gather her in close. He found himself still rocking slightly, still heated from what they had just done. He nuzzled against the side of her neck, quiet while she was recovering her breath.

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