Vaguely he heard someone calling his name but he was tired, so very, very tired.
“Anders-” The voice was more exasperated this time and he struggled to open his eyelids and lift his head in order to respond. It could have been a patient, someone in need, and he had to-
“ Dear ,” he finally managed to force himself awake and he turned from where he had pressed his face against the desk to see Hawke standing over him, a look of fond concern in her eyes. “It’s far past time the lantern was put out,” she said, voice soft, “Now, come home with me.”
“...Gotta work,” he muttered, even as his eyelids threatened to flutter shut again. “What if I have…”
“Everyone is gone for the day,” Hawke said and there must have been something stuck to his face, maybe a piece of his manifesto, maybe an elfroot leaf, because suddenly it looked as though she was trying to hold back a smile. “Now, will you please come with me?”
Anders thought of telling her no but the truth was that the clinic was empty and, save for an emergency, he could not rightfully expect anyone else until the morning. Besides, Hawke had begun to rub at the nape of his neck, her strong thumbs digging in skillfully, and the promise of more pampering was too great a lure for him to resist.
He rose then and let her take his hand, ambling along behind her as he struggled to hold back a yawn. He had no idea how long he had been asleep but it must not have been enough for he could have easily lain down on one of the cots and gotten in two, perhaps even as much as three hours of sleep.
Time passed quickly, as it often does for the drowsy and before he knew what was happening Anders found himself being led through the door that connected the cellar of the Amell estate to the main home and then up, up the stairs to Hawke’s room.
“I asked Bodahn to help me bring the tub up,” she was saying, “A little birdie told me that you were having a bad day and I thought you could use a good soak.”
“A little birdie?” He asked, amused and feeling a little more awake. The promise of a hot bath was only improving his mood.
“Well, what actually happened was that I went down to try and seduce you- To eat, that is. But I walked in, and, well, saw the way things were going.”
“Mm, it was terrible,” he replied, glad that Hawke had seen the mess that today had been and left rather than offering to help. She had, a few times, and all of them had ended in disaster. Hawke was a fearsome warrior, a skilled politician and a terrible healer.
She opened the door to her room, leading him inside and Anders sighed in delight at the site of the round, copper tub filled with steaming water. The air hung heavy with the scent of some kind of oil, perhaps lavender, that had obviously been put into the water and while Anders could have easily heated the water himself he was grateful that he did not have to expend even that relatively small amount of magic.
Hawke closed the door behind them and then moved to his front, looking up at him from under her short, dark bangs as she began to unclasp the gold chain that ran across his throat and then the ties which held his coat together.
“I thought,” she began, eyes dancing with mirth and something a little darker, “That tonight I could help you relax.”
“The bath is much appreciated,” he replied, even knowing that that was not all that she was talking about.
“Well, you do rather smell,” she said, crinkling her nose and making him laugh. “But I also want a moment to… Prepare.”
“Prepare?” he asked with a raised eyebrow although, frankly, he wasn’t sure he would have said no to anything she might have planned for him. Especially once she had pushed his coat off of his shoulders and began to run her hand under his tunic and over his abdomen, beginning to help him out of it.
“You’ll see,” she said, “I think you’ll like what I- What I’ve put together. I mean, most of it’s stuff we’ve done before anyway so…”
For the first time that evening Anders bothered to look beyond Hawke and the bathtub and to the rest of the room. The bed was as it always was, clean and covered in thick, warm looking red blankets. But off to one side, nearly hidden by the bed, was a short, sturdy looking trunk.
Anders said nothing but felt heat begin to pool low in his gut and when Hawke finally stripped him from his trousers she made a low noise of approval at his arousal.
“Well I was trying to relax you…”
“Trust me Hawke, it’s simply being in proximity to you.”
She laughed then, a low noise of delight. “Hush, into the bath with you.” He did as she commanded but nevertheless took a moment to enjoy her herding him along. And then, the feeling of stepping into the bath and sliding down into the warm water…
He sighed in contentment and closed his eyes. The scent was stronger now, swirling around him with the steam and he slowly let himself sink down further until the water rose just barely above his chin. Behind him he heard the shuffling of feet as Hawke began to pick up his clothes and then the tell-tale noise of a chest being unlatched.
The tub was large enough that, even with his tall frame, he was able to stretch his legs out and he did so now, running his hands up and down his thighs. His cock lay slightly against one thigh, heavy and hard, and while he knew that Hawke would not punish him for touching himself he wanted to save himself for what he knew would come later.
Besides, he genuinely wanted to wash the grime of Darktown off of himself and after finding a bar of soap set on the edge of the tub he began to scrub himself down. He did so slowly, leisurely, wanting to give Hawke time to set up and, frankly, wanting the time for himself. His feet and lower back ached from the long day spent on his feet and his neck hurt from spending so much time bent over patients or his mortar and pestle.
He started at his upper chest, working the soap into a lather there before moving it over and around his shoulders, trailing down one arm and then up again. The soap dipped down, lower again, and Anders sighed in contentment as he pulled his feet up and began to rub at them under the water.
Though he could have easily remained in the water for far longer he finally forced himself out. And while he had been relaxed by the warm water and the scent of lavender hanging heavy in the air he was far more awake than he had been when Hawke had originally come to retrieve him.
Standing he turned around only to find Hawke there, holding out a towel for him.
“Here, dear,” she said, a small smile on her face, “Much as I hate to cover that body with anything it wouldn’t do to get the bed all wet.”
“No,” he said around the smile he was trying to keep off of his face. “No, it wouldn’t.” He had never quite understood Hawke’s attraction to him but he had always been terribly grateful for it. Still he toweled off quickly and, once he was done, threw it to the side and stepped to her.
She approached him, her hands behind her back, and when finally she moved them he saw that she held a thick leather collar. He felt his breath catch, as it always did, and then bent down slightly and pushed his hair to the side. Closing his eyes he could feel the cool leather against his skin as she slid it around his neck and then, very gently, latched it shut.
“Alright,” she murmured, “On the bed now, pet .”
He could feel his heartbeat quicken at the word, knowing what it meant. The collar around his neck was not terribly heavy and yet he could feel the weight of it, the smoothness of the leather, could feel her eyes on him as he wore it so well.
Quickly he nodded, eager to obey her, and moved to crawl onto the bed. He hesitated at first before moving onto his hands and knees and looked back at her, waiting for approval.
“Good,” she murmured, eyes sparkling, “Head down now. I think we’ll start with the paddle.”
“Thank you Mistress,” he murmured as he leaned his head down to obey her. The pillows were soft against his cheek and he closed his eyes, knowing there was not a chance that he would fall asleep here. Behind him he heard the sound of fabric softly hitting the floor and knew that Hawke and removed the robes that she often wore around the house. He was sad not to see her yet but knew he would soon enough.
With his eyes closed his hearing became much more acute and he found himself unable to do anything but focus on the sounds in the room- The bare patter of Hawke’s feet against the carpeted floor, the slow movement of what he knew to be the paddle being picked up from where it had been placed on the bed. The light tap tap tap as Hawke idly tested it against the flat of her palm.
Hawke had always liked to tease and so Anders was not surprised when he felt the paddle gently pressed against the back of his calf, the leather cool against his skin. It was a warning, a promise, and Hawke continued to slowly slide the paddle up his leg, up his thigh, until it rested just over the curve of his rear.
And then, suddenly, it disappeared. He heard the sound of something sailing through the air and then the loud, sudden CRACK which exploded when the paddle made contact.
He hissed and buried his face further into the pillows- The paddle came down again and he groaned, the pain immediate and sharp. She switched to the other cheek and he was treated to a series of quick, not-quite-so-harsh taps before she rained a few more blows down on him.
He was breathing heavily now but still the noises he made were minimal. A part of him loved this for the way that it so consumed his attention, the building of tension as he waited for Hawke to spank him again until she finally did, a release, a relief that was both pleasure and pain.
But it was also being brave for her, the feeling of her bare palm as it rubbed over his now reddened ass and she made soft, soothing sounds.
“Good pet,” she murmured, “You take this so well, I’m so proud of you,” she leaned forward to kiss his hip, the side of his thigh, sighing softly. “Think you can take more?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice wavering a little, “Anything you want, I can take it.”
“Mm, good,” she replied with a chuckle, “I wanted to get more use out of this.”
And then she brought it down again. He cried out, unable to muffle himself this time. But, though he could not see it, he could feel Hawke’s grin of satisfaction.
Hawke enjoyed caring for him, enjoyed teasing him, but more than anything else she enjoyed breaking him.
“So lovely,” she said, running her hand over the smooth globe of his ass and then bringing her palm down, nearly as harshly as she had the paddle. “I love turning your ass red,” she continued, raining down the blows without rhyme or reason. The unpredictableness of it only made it more exciting as the moans and the cries she wringed from him turned harsher and harsher.
And then, finally, she stopped.
The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of Anders panting, struggling to get himself back under control. His ass stung and he could only imagine what the skin looked like. Bright red, most likely- the thought had him groaning softly into the pillows where he had partially buried his face.
He could feel Hawke slowly running her hands along his thighs and then up around his lower back, gently pressing her thumbs into the divots there. He knew that she was waiting for him to raise his head, waiting to make sure that he was capable of going on.
Finally he did so and Hawke scooted forward a little onto the bed in order to grasp the underside of his chin and pull his head up to look at him.
“Dear,” she said, stroking the scruffy side of his jaw, pride in her eyes, “You did so well, I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank… You,” he finally replied. He could not tear his gaze away from Hawke’s face, at the love and pleasure written all over it. All he had ever wanted was to please her, to make her happy, and to see that he had done so created a warmth in him that went far beyond sexual.
“Sit back a little,” she said, “I want to use the ropes on you.”
Anders nodded and sat up a little before very, very gingerly moving into a kneel. He closed his eyes then, idly listening as Hawke moved to retrieve more items from the chest and only opening them when she moved in front of him again.
The rope she favored was soft against his skin and had been dyed a strong red color. The same red of her clothes, of her crest, of the stripe she wore across her nose. To feel her begin to wind it around his neck and then dip down to his chest felt like ownership. She’d told him, once, that she had picked the color because of the way she had imagined it would look against the paleness of his skin. But whenever he would look down himself and see the crisscrossing lines that ran across his body he could not help but feel as though he had finally been claimed.
“Your arms, love,” she said and he automatically pressed his forearms together and held them out to her. Though a rogue by training she always took far longer with the ropes than he knew she needed to. A part of the game he supposed, for her to trail the end of the rope against the sensitive skin of his inner arm and to gently wind the cord around his wrists.
When she was done he tested the give of the rope and then placed his now bound arms back in his lap. The ropework around his chest did little to restrain him but he enjoyed the feeling of it all the same.
“On your back now-” Hawke began, helping him as he made the transition. She moved over him, pulling one of the pillows down to rest under his head a little better and then sat back, looking at him with a gleam in her eyes as she idly ran her hand over his stomach. Every so often she would trail her hand down to his pelvis, coming closer and closer to his cock but never quite touching it.
“Arms above your head,” Anders obeyed immediately and did not miss the way that Hawke’s eyes roved over his chest now that it was more fully on display. “Spread your legs.”
He did as he was told, feeling his heart rate increase.
“Do you know what I want to do to you, pet?” Hawke asked, her voice silken. Her hand had not stopped moving and Anders was torn between the feel of it tracing over his skin and her question.
“Anything,” he breathed, “Please, Mistress, use me. However you want.”
Hawke smiled at him and he felt instantly gratified.
“I want to reward you,” she said, the back of her hand barely brushing against his cock, “Something that we've talked about.”
Anders resisted the urge to lift his hips up to try to move against her hand, no matter how much he desperately wanted to.
“What… What thing?” He finally asked, his thoughts fuzzy.
“Me. Fucking you.”
Anders smiled softly and nodded quickly, not caring if he seemed overly eager. “Please, H- Mistress, please.”
Hawke chuckled lowly and shook her head, “No love, not like that.”
Anders blinked and then his eyes went wide as realization struck him.
“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. “ Yes. ”
Hawke leaned over briefly to kiss him and then quickly hopped off the bed in order to rummage around in the trunk. He watched avidly as she pulled out a black harness and then, slowly, stepped into it and pulled it up to frame her pelvis. She took a moment to tighten the straps until the harness fit snuggly around her hips and thighs.
And then she bent over and pulled out a long, lovingly detailed dildo.
Anders felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of it, appearing so much thicker in Hawke’s slight hands.
She giggled at the look on his face and then grinned at him, a purr in her voice, “I cannot wait to watch you take this, pet.”
Hawke attached the dildo and after picking up a jar of salve slowly walked to where Anders continued to lay on the bed, legs outspread. His face had turned red and she watched as it slowly creeped across his chest. His eyes followed her avidly as she finally settled between his thighs, running her hands over his hips and down his legs.
She took the jar of salve, slowly unscrewing it and setting it aside. Anders watched as she dipped two fingers inside, coating them evenly. Hawke leaned forward then, a wicked grin on her face as she trailed a single finger down the length of his cock.
He could not help but react, groaning and arching his back slightly in desperation. It was the first time all night that Hawke had even spared his cock a second glance, let alone touched it but as her finger continued to move downwards he found himself having to hold back a whine of desperation.
“I'm sorry dear,” she said, the expression of glee on her face belying her words, “But I have other plans for you.”
She grasped one cheek with her unlubed hand and Anders grunted at the feeling of being spread, exposed to Hawke’s gaze. He could think of few things that were more intimate, and then Hawke pressed a single finger to his hole.
Hawke progressed slowly despite the way Anders twitched and begged. Though he was sorely tempted to wiggle, to try to fuck himself further down on her finger, he knew that it would only earn him more of the paddle.
Hawke was going to do what she pleased and if he wanted her to continue he was going to have to lay there and be good.
She introduced the second finger soon after, taking care to move slowly at first. Anders whimpered and when she spread her fingers slightly in a scissoring motion he groaned. She repeated it, again and again, until he began panting for her to fuck him, begging her for some sliver of mercy.
“Please,” he entreated, as the pleasure spiked hot through his legs, “Please, I want…”
“You want what, pet?” Her voice was calm, measured, but her cheeks were high with color as she watched him squirm beneath her. The rope around his hands and arms kept him from reaching for her but his legs still tensed as she moved her hand, in and out.
“Mistress, please ,” he looked at her, eyes blown wide with lust and his lower lip reddened from where he had been biting on it. “Please fuck me with-” He choked a little as Hawke added a third finger even as she continued to look at him, forcing him to go on. “With your cock, please, fill me up, U-use me, I want… I want to please you so badly, please, please -”
“Shh,” Hawke said suddenly, leaning forward and running a hand down the side of his jaw. He turned his face to kiss the inside of her palm, running his lips down her wrist, desperate to touch her. “You beg so well,” she murmured, her voice fond, “So prettily, so desperate. Obviously I have to reward you.”
Anders nodded fervently but his face remained nuzzle against Hawke’s arm.
“Thank you, thank you,” he said when finally she drew her arm back. Slowly she pulled her fingers out of him and he groaned softly. Their absence was quickly replaced by the blunt head of the dildo, now covered in lubricant, as she pressed it against his hole.
Hawke did not move until she made sure that Anders was looking at her, a small smile on her face that made Anders’ heart clench a little in anticipation.
And then, slowly, she began to push.
His mouth fell open at the feeling of being stretched open so wide and although he wanted to bury to his face against the pillows, to throw his head back, he kept his eyes locked on her, on the expression of rapture on her face.
“Good, love,” she said as a low whine escaped his throat, “Being so good for me, so lovely, taking all of this.” When she finished her first, smooth thrust inside of him she stopped, merely looking down at him.
“Too much?” She asked, cradling the side of his face. He felt almost obscenely full but shook his head. Hawke felt so good, laying over him as she was and feeling her between his legs was…
“Good,” he managed, “So… Good.”
“Good,” she replied and then chuckled a little. “Mm, I’m going to start thrusting, you remember your word?”
Anders nodded but when Hawke smiled at him like that, well, he wondered that he was even capable of speech.
She moved her hand away then, grasping onto his hip with it and she gently eased back and then thrust in again. The material of the dildo did not have much give to it and yet when she pulled back and moved forward again, angling up somewhat, he felt the head press against his prostate.
He moaned and Hawke heard him, beginning to increase the pace of her thrusts as she hit it again and again. She gripped his hips, holding him down and giving her almost complete control. It should have been terrifying but with her it was comforting, to allow himself to so completely let go.
There was no need for him to move or to struggle, and although his body instinctively wanted to move back against hers he forced himself to lie back as the heat that was pooling between his legs slowly built and built.
And then Hawke reached forward and wrapped one hand around his aching, neglected cock.
He gasped, eyes flying open again. She’d been watching him the entire time and she did not stop now, her dark eyes locking onto his as she slowly pumped his cock with her hand. Her thrusts had slowed down to match the rhythm of her hand and he groaned, panting heavily as she worked over him.
He closed his eyes again and this time Hawke let him. Everything was so overwhelming- The pull of the rope against his skin as he shifted against the covers of the bed, the slick pleasure of Hawke’s hand and the way she mercilessly beat against his prostate.
It was easy for him to get lost in the sensation as she so completely took control of him, as his mind focused so acutely on the things he was physically feeling, the things she was doing to him. He felt safe here, in this space that Hawke had helped create for him. Here where he completely belonged to her, where she could do whatever she might have wished to him.
It should have been a terrifying thought and yet he dreamed of nights like this, of Hawke doing to him exactly the things she was doing now.
“Mistress” he gasped, her pace having sped up considerably, “I can’t… I don’t think I can keep…”
“You can,” Hawke replied, “If I asked you to, I know you would. You’re so good, I know you won’t disappoint me.”
“No,” he said, opening dazed eyes to look up at her, “Never… I never want to disappoint you.”
Hawke looked down at him, so much pride and love in her eyes that he thought his heart might burst.
And then a mischievous smile crossed her face as she began to pump into him.
“Pet,” she said, “I am going to make you come.” Even if she hadn’t spoke the words he would have already been dangerously close. As it was the words had him suddenly racing towards his climax and he groaned loudly, his back arching.
“Please, please, can I?” He begged- It wasn’t a rule that he always had to but he knew that Hawke enjoyed hearing him.
“Beg harder pet,” she said, her voice almost saccharine sweet. She was merciless with her hand and Anders found himself having to grasp onto the very edges of his control to keep from coming all over her hand.
“Anything,” he gasped out, “Please, I’ll be so good, please let me come, please- ” He was so close, barely hovering over the edge under Hawke’s relentless assault. He struggled against his bonds, panting and tossing his head back and forth as Hawke pushed him and pushed him.
And then, just as he feared his body would betray him and he would disobey her, she spoke: “Come.”
He wailed as his body reacted to the single word, all of the tension that had been building suddenly exploding from within him. He clamped down on the dildo, hips riding it as he thrust back up into Hawke’s hand, spilling hot, sticky come all over it.
She kept stimulating him until finally he begged for mercy and she stopped, letting him collapse into a ruined mess beneath her.
His chest was heaving, eye closed as he tried to get himself back under control. He swallowed, heavily, feeling suddenly terribly thirsty.
“I’m going to pull out now,” the words were spoken gently but, incapable of speaking yet, he just nodded.
He winced as Hawke removed herself and a few minutes later heard the sound of what must have been the leather harness and dildo hitting the floor. She returned only moments later, kneeling by his head and quickly untying the ropes that bound his hands and chest. When she offered him a glass of water he finally forced himself to open his eyes and look up at her.
“Love,” he said, voice a little raw from all of his yelling, “That was…”
“Good,” she finished for him, when it didn’t seem like he could. Smiling softly she leaned over, running her clean hand through his hair. “Here, drink some water.”
He nodded and finally took the glass, drinking half of it in his first gulp. Hawke laughed at him but he just gave her a crooked grin.
“Come here, you,” he said, careful to put the glass down on the bedside table before pulling Hawke down onto him.
“That,” he said, “Was lovely. And wonderful. And… And I love you, Hawke.”
“Funny,” she said, “I just happen to love you too, Anders.”
He snorted, but instead of rolling his eyes he just leaned up and kissed her, a surprisingly chaste one given all that they had just done.
“Now,” he said,” his hand slowly, but not at all subtly, beginning to move down her side, “About you…”