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Dragon Age Lovers Day 14 - NSFW

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Odette sat near the fire, slowly loosening the straps on her armor and pulling each piece off. She removed her breast plate and turned it over in her hands, observing the engraved double griffon crest emblazoned on the front. It wasn’t anything special, just a standard issue breastplate. It meant so much more, though. It was something worthy and noble, something good to cling to in all this mess, but it was also a stark reminder of everything that happened.

Taking her armor off at the end of the day was always a bit of a relief. It was nice to be free of the weight and the chafing, but it also meant settling down for the night. Sleep didn't come easily to her anymore. It was in the still quiet of the night that the sounds of her mother's screams returned to her ears. No matter the exhaustion, those screams kept her awake. She blessed the morning sun each day, because the bird song, combined with Alistair’s nearly nonstop chatter drowned out the noise in her head.

She loved Alistair deeply. He had become a fast friend, maybe the best friend she’d ever had, but her affect for him was purely platonic, though she could tell he felt different. No, love wasn’t exactly on her agenda. With everything else she was dealing with, she wasn’t looking for anything serious, and that’s exactly what Alistair wanted to be. So, instead, she’d turned her gaze to Zevran.

Zevran seemed wild and unpredictable. He also wasn’t overly interested in her personal life. Sure, they’d had the odd conversation, and he’d told her all about growing up in an Antivan whore house and his dead Dalish mother.

Maker’s breath!

So maybe it was more personal than she cared to admit. Maybe she did like him quite a lot. But her interest now wasn’t so much in developing any sort of relationship. She was looking for something a bit more physical. And, from the sound of it, Zevran was happy to oblige.

Zevran clicked his tongue in disapproval as he approached the campfire. He sat down next to her, watching her rub her joints with pity. “You look so tired, my dear. ‘Tis all this constant walking and fighting. I think I know what you need.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t let on. Instead, she smirked and said, “Oh? And what is that?”

Zevran leaned in dangerously close to her ear. “My thought is this. We retire to your tent and I show you the kind of massage skills one only learns growing up in an Antivan whore house.”

Odette’s eyes fluttered, and she could feel a warm in her cheeks and a tingle at the meeting of her thighs. She leaned in close to him, cool and confident. Like she had done this a thousand times. Like she was as experienced as he was. “A massage sounds perfect,” she said.

“A willing victim it is,” he laughed. He stood and offered her his hand, which she took gladly. He didn’t let go of her hand as he stepped closer, closing the gap between them. He continued, his voice low, “if I might ask, if the opportunity to proceed past a massage should present itself?”

Odette’s heart kept to her throat. “Um…”. The last thing she wanted was for him to know just how inexperienced she was. Her confidence, or the illusion of it, was one of the few things she had going for her. She couldn’t afford to have him think of her poorly.

She straightened, holding her head high, the way her mother had taught her. “The Couslands hail from a long and proud line, Odette,” her mother had once said. “We must carry ourselves in a manner befitting that pride.” This, certainly, was not what her mother had meant. Odette was meant to be married off to some other Arl’s son, someone who would be a worthy match for her. If her mother knew she was coupling with an Elven assassin - out of wedlock no less- she would turn in her grave. The Chantry taught, though, that the dead moved on through the Fade. Her mother’s soul would rest easy, never knowing what Odette did now. And Odette? She might just rest easy in her own way tonight.

She batted her lashes, trying her best to mimic the suggestive subtleties that had been described in the romance novels she’d read. “I’ll leave that up to your… excellent judgement.” She cringed inside, but she kept up the act. It wasn’t a very good line, but she’d never admit it.

Zevran smirked. “Then why are we still talking?”

He led her to her tent. She could feel the prying eyes of her companions - Alistair in particular - on them as they walked hand in hand. When they reached her tent, Zevran lifted the flap and motioned for her to go in first. She took a deep breath and crawled in.

Zevran followed directly after. “Take off your tunic and lay down on your stomach,” he instructed.

She did as she was bade, though hesitantly. She’d never been naked in front of a man before, and the idea was both exhilarating and terrifying to her. Zevran, it seemed, recognized her trepidation. He turned his head away to afford her privacy, though he said, that cheeky grin never leaving his face, “you know, sex usually requires a certain level of nudity. Though that is just my humble experience.”

She feigned a laugh. “Of course. It’s just…”. She fumbled for the right word as she laid herself down on the bedroll. “Cold.”

“Hah,” he laughed, “you can say that again.” He shifted towards her, and she could hear the sound of his palms rubbing together behind her. “Let me warm you,” he said.

His hands slid up her back, starting just below her ribs and traveling up to her shoulders. Once there, he kneaded the muscle along her collar bone. It was gentle at first, but after a moment the pain was almost too much. She winced.

“Relax,” he coaxed, “you carry so much tension right here. It’s not good for you.”

She tried to relax. It was hard with her nerves. She was ready to get the act over and done with. “Maybe,” she said, “I need some help. Relaxing, I mean.”

Zevran chuckled. “I can certainly help you do that.” His touch lightened until she could feel only his fingertips. “But first,” he said, ghosting his fingers over her shoulder blades - “a few ground rules” - down her ribs - “to insure that you and I are completely in agreement” - over her hips before lifting them from her skin.

She bucked her hips, which was shocking to her. She couldn’t help herself. The movement had been desperate and completely involuntary. She pushed herself up to her elbows in an attempt to mask it, then looked at him over her shoulder.

That damn smirk was still on his lips.

“Rule number one: if you are not 100% comfortable with what we are doing, say so and we stop.

“Rule two?”

“If you don’t like the way something feels, you tell me. That way a good time is had by all. And three…” he said, a glimmer in his eye, “well, three is less a rule than a request. I would ask you to trust me and keep an open mind. You Fereldeners seem a little… stiff. If you were expecting traditional or tame, you will not find it with me. I feel that it is important to say up front, considering this is your first time.”

Odette bolted up, then cupped her breast with a smack as she remembered her nakedness. “What makes you think this is my first time?”

“Please,” he laughed, pointing to her covered breasts, “I didn’t think it would be possible for you to be more tense than you are in the field, Odette, but here we are.”

She sucked in a gust of air and held it, sizing Zevran up with icy eyes. “If I had wished my pride insulted,” she said, “I would have invited someone else into my bed.”

He shook his head. “I am merely pointing out the obvious,” he said, “but if you prefer it, that is fine. I’ll go.” He scooted towards the door without a second glance.

“Wait!” She grabbed his arm. He stopped, looking back at her with a crooked brow. “You’re right, of course,” she said, “I have no idea what I’m doing. But I’m willing.”

He smiled. “That’s all I needed to hear.” He crawled towards her, guiding her down to the mat with a gentle push to her sternum. He followed closely, leaning over her. “You are our fearless leader out there,” he said, gesturing to the outside world with the nod of his head, “but in here, allow me to take on the burden of leader.” He tugged gently at the hand that still covered her breast, not forcing, but requesting that she remove it. She wasn’t so sure why she cared. She was about to show him way more than just her breasts, but her stern Chantry raising gnawed at her mind.

Chantry be damned, if it meant a distraction from her day job.

She dropped her hand to the size forcefully, before the Chantry mother in her head could talk her out of it. The smile Zevran flashed upon seeing her exposed was enough to make the gutters worth it. “Beautiful!” He exclaimed, tracing a finger over her nipple. She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips.

“Let’s take it slow,” he said, “just for a little while. I will handle everything. Your only job is to relax.”

He laid his full weight on top of her and pressed his lips to her. This is our first kiss, she thought. His lips were soft and smooth. Before long, she felt the flick of his tongue against her lips. She parted her lips for him, and she felt herself tense again.

He pulled back. “Are you sure you want to do this, Odette?”

She nodded.

“Can you explain to me what you’re feeling?”

“Nothing,” she lied.

He gave her a knowing look. “If you cannot trust me, then maybe you aren’t ready.”

She groaned. “Maker, won’t you just fuck me?”

He chuckled. “I plan to. So long as you are open with me.”

“I was under the impression that this wasn’t about our feelings.”

“I’m not interested in romance, if that is what you mean, he said, but I am interested in your feelings about this. If you are not comfortable, then neither am I.”

She covered her face. “I don’t really like talking about my feelings, if that wasn’t clear.”

“Humor me, just this once, and I won’t bring them up again.”

She rolled her eyes. “I want to do this,” she said, “I just don’t want to fuck it up.”

Zevran smiled. “Ah! Now that I can work with. I’m an excellent teacher.” With that, he kissed her again, sliding his tongue over her teeth. She tensed again, but, now knowing that Zevran wasn’t judging her or worried about it helped a little. She paid special attention to how he moved, and, after a moment, managed the confidence to mimic him. She felt him smile as she deepened the kiss, and assumed she must be doing something right.

Zevran broke away from her lips in favor of kissing her neck, then her collarbone, then her breasts, then her stomach. He trailed down till he reached her trousers. He looked up at her, a question in his eyes: may I?

She nodded.

He tugged her pants down till she was completely naked before him. She reminded herself to relax. He spread her legs with gentle hands and muttered something in Antivan that she didn’t understand.

“What did that mean?” She asked.

He smiled. “It meant that you are beautiful. At least, that is the polite translation.”

He slid down between her legs. She hardly had time to ask him what he was doing before he licked a long stripe from one end of her vagina to another.

“What are you doing?” She gasped, scrambling to a seated position.

“I am enjoying myself,” he said. “You said you would keep an open mind, remember?”

“Doesn’t that taste terrible?”

“You tell me,” he said, lunging forward and pulling her into a kiss. He pulled back with a laugh, sliding back between her legs. She laid back down, a smile playing at her lips.

He licked that same path up her sex again, this time slower. She felt every nerve like it was on fire. She gasped, despite herself, and threw her head back. Zevran began licking slow circles around her, sucking and teasing. One movement made her breath hitch, and he latched onto it, repeating the motion over and over. “Maker!” She sighed. She could feel the heat building.

Zevran reached up for her hand and guided it to his hair. She tangled her fingers in it, as she’d been instructed. His tongues flicked just right over her sensitive clit and she tugged, not meaning to, but the moan that escaped his lips said that she had done something right. She tugged again, and his moan was so sensual, so prolonged, and she felt the vibrations of it through his mouth.

“Maker!” She cried. A new tension was building, but this time it wasn't her nerves. “Oh!” She whispered, “oh!”

She came so hard her toes curled and she sat up, overcome by the sensation of her orgasm. Zevran pulled away with a laugh as she came down from her high. Opening her lazy eyes, she watched as he began to undress.

“You were magnificent,” he said as he stripped away his shirt. His chest had a tattoo on it, similar to the one on his face. She saw another that trailed down his hip, still covered by his pants.

Odette smiled to herself. She’d actually done it. Well, not all of it, but more than she had ever done before. She felt light for the first time in ages. Then, Zevran removed his trousers, and Odette blushed at his hard, erect member. Her nerves returned.

He sank back to his knees and crawled forward so that he was settled between her legs. “Are you ready, my warden?”

She nodded before she could second guess herself. She tried to force herself to relax as Zevran pressed himself to her entrance.

“Remember,” he said, “if you are uncomfortable, you need only say.”

She nodded, and he began pushing inside her. It felt horribly tight and even a little uncomfortable.

Zevran gasped as he pushed forward, though he didn’t go far. “Relax for me,” he said as he pulled her in for a kiss. She made a point to focus on the feel of his lips instead of what they were doing, and forced her muscles to ease. She felt him slide out of her, the press back in. This time, his movement was easy, fluid, and she moaned into the kiss. This, she imagined, was how it was supposed to feel.

“Much better, my warden,” Zevran cooed, “just live in this moment, yes?”

He slid in and out, in and out, and Odette felt herself succumb to the moment, just like he had told her to do. Everything else melted away. There was no war, no Blight. Death held no dominion over them. Sleep didn’t matter. Only the friction, the pull, only the embrace mattered. She slid her hands down his back, not thinking at all, just doing what she instinctively wanted. She grabbed his ass, digging her nails into his cheeks. He shivered at her touch.

He hissed a word, some word she’d never heard before, and pulled out just long enough to lay beside her.

“Wha-“ she started. She meant to ask what he was doing, but, before she got the chance, he lifted her leg and entered her from behind. Her breath hitched as he sheathed himself to the hilt.

The feeling was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She’d touched herself, but she’d never felt something so deep inside her. It felt nearly indescribable. It was like a tingle, like the feeling of static crackling through a woolen dress at the peak of winter. It wasn’t painful, that wasn’t the word for it, but the intensity of it made her flinch the same way touching a hot stove might. She couldn’t pull away, though, as Zevran’s grip on her leg was too tight. He squeezed her thigh, pulled out, and slammed back in again.

“Maker,” she cried, “oh, god!”

He began to slam into her with abandon, and she felt a growing tension in her loins, a building heat. She recognized that her climax was near, but she’d never felt it exactly like this. Never before had she felt so full. She was so aware of that sensation, but reality around her had faded away. She was no longer cognizant of the bedroll beneath her, the tension in her muscles, nor the distant crackle of the fire outside. Only Zevran and that unrelenting heat mattered.

“Cum for me, Amor,” he whispered into her ear, “I want to feel you clench around me. I want to know that you have tasted satisfaction.”

She heard his words, but they hardly registered. They were just distant whispers somewhere far beyond the reaches of her understanding. She teetered on the precipice of climax, the ache of tension cooling inside her, the need for release desperate.

“Cum,” Zevran demanded.

Electricity shot through her veins, and her whole body convulsed as the euphoria of orgasm ripped through her body. She reached behind her, grabbing a fistful of his hair for purchase. At her pull, he choked out a moan, and she knew that he, too, had felt the spark course through him.

The waves of pleasure edged away slowly, like the receding tide of the Waking Sea, and Odette once again became aware of the fur beneath her, the sweat that dripped down her back and between her breasts, Zevran’s slick skin pressed tightly to hers, their chests both heaving, desperate for more air.

Zevran chuckled as he, too, came down from his high. “See,” he said, “I knew this would happen eventually. I should have warned you right from the moment you refused to kill me. It was inevitable.”

Odette shifted so she could look at Zevran. They both laid on their backs facing each other. His grin was wide and bright, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him. “This was all part of my devilish plan, you see,” she said.

“Oh ho ho, why, aren’t you the saucy little minx, then. I’ve been used and I wasn’t even aware of it.” He stroked a stray hair that had fallen from one of her braids and tucked it behind her ear. “A masterpiece!” He said, and she wasn’t sure if he meant her maniacal plan to get him into her bed, or just, simply, her. “So, then, as the priestess once so famously said to the handsome actor, what now?”

She hadn’t heard that one. It was probably an Antivan idiom. She didn’t bother to ask. “I don’t know,” she said. “What do you want, Zevran?”

“Allow me to make it simple for you, My Grey Warden. What comes next is entirely up to you. I was raised to take my pleasures where they could be found, for they do not come very often. I shall ask nothing more of you than you are willing to give.”

She thought a moment. She knew exactly what she wanted. “Is it too soon to go again?”

Zevran pulled her on top of him so that she straddled him. “It’s never too soon,” he laughed. “I take it you enjoyed your first time, no?”

She didn’t meet his eyes when she said, “I guess you could say that.”

He ran his hands up and down her thighs, and she shivered at his touch. “I must admit, we have come very far from those early days where I tried to kill you and you decided not to kill me.” He reached between them, lining his member with her entrance before guiding her down onto him. She shivered at the feeling, the easy slide of their bodies. She threw her head back in reverie, already lost to the whims of her Elven lover. She did not see his smile, but heard it in his voice. “Fate is such a tricky whore,” he said, “isn’t she?”