My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  "Maker," she panted as Cullen freed his hands out from under the sweater so he could rise up and adjust himself. Her beguiling eyes popped open and she staggered up on her elbows to meet his retreating face. Lana snagged the back of his head, her lips pulling the breath from him as she kissed with fury, trying to drag him back down with her. Cullen caught himself with one hand, his arms straining against the dipping mattress while nearly all of her wrapped around him. Lithe legs enveloped his stomach, her heels knocking against his ass as she ground against him.

  It was his turn to blaspheme, "Andraste's pyre!" tumbled out of him before he could try and regain his composure. "You are a trial by fire," he chuckled at the woman who'd rip off his clothes and ride him in that instant if she had her way.

  Hot lips pressed against his jaw, her luscious bottom one nibbling against the stubble as she cooed, "As if you'd have it any other way."

  No, he wouldn't. Against his better judgement, and the screaming for more from his cock, Cullen unknotted her crossed legs, letting her fall the inch or so back to the bed. Chuckling, Lana smiled while her arms tumbled back beside her head. Her eyes traversed over his chest, the ache for him evident, while she bit down on her thumb. The image of her coyly nipping herself in anticipation nearly pushed Cullen to climb on top of her right then and there. Sliding his fingers under the hem of his sweater, he began to lift the stolen garment off her body. Lana squirmed, as if she expected it to take time, but he couldn't hold himself back. Yanking quickly, she laughed whole heartedly as Cullen rolled the sweater across her chest and arms.

  Maker's breath... He had to pinch himself every time he saw her, all of her like this. Laying back, her breasts slipped to the side, playfully heading in opposite directions - both of them swelling to full as she regained her lost weight. Those gorgeous freckles called to him, begging for his hand to stroke each one. Under the entertained eye of the beautiful woman, he ran his fingers up the curve of her waist - the beginnings of her soft stomach returning, bringing with it those glorious hips that'd hypnotized him since he was 18. Cullen's palm drifted across her upper thigh, when Lana gurgled in a dangerous chortle. Blinking, he broke away from watching her breasts jiggle with her laughter to her face. She found something hilarious for certain, but he had no idea...

  "How in the Maker's seat did you manage that?" he exclaimed. Cut into her pubic hair was the emblem of the templars, the flames licking up the side beside her thighs while the sword's hilt broke off at that hypnotizing separation of her lower lips.

  Lana tipped her head, "With a razor, a mirror, and some artistic focus."

  Unable to withstand the temptation, Cullen climbed on top of her, kissing with every ounce of heat in his body as Lana met him with her own fervor. Freed of the trap, his cock prodded against her soft stomach with only his pants separating them. Maker, sometimes they made for the best chaperone between the two. Dangling her hands behind her head, Lana matched his kisses as she asked, "Do you like it?"

  "It's impressive," he admitted, "but the sword's upside down."

  Chuckling at first, Lana sighed, "Everyone's a critic." As she tossed her head back, Cullen pressed his lips down her neck, for once taking the birthmarkless path. The change caused her to squirm below him, knocking against his already straining trousers. Wrapping his hands around one breast, then the other, he gently squeezed each, eliciting a moan from deep in Lana's chest. When he drifted his fingers across one plum colored nipple, drawing it further out, she arced her back. Going after the second, Lana lifted her entire back off the bed, her head rolling under her for leverage.

  "Oh, Maker, do it," she moaned, begging as his tongue licked circles around her breast. Slowly antagonizing her, he drew her full breast into his mouth, breathing against her skin before sucking tenderly on her nipple. She rolled her head back and forth, humming under her breath, when he gently scraped his teeth across the tip of it. "Holy sweet Andraste!" she gasped, her hand slapping against the fur blanket below.

  Hm... Cullen reached out to snatch her hand up. Her eyes lifted slowly to watch him grab her other hand. Scooting forward, he pinned both back above her head, savoring the stretch to her beautiful body. Using the sleeve of his borrowed sweater, he knotted the wool tight against one of her wrists and then the other. Lana squirmed below him, the ecstasy palpable, before she glanced up and concern broke through her bliss. "Is this okay?" she asked, trying to gesture to his half hearted attempts at tying her down.

  No revulsion crawled through his skin at the sight of her tied up in his sweater, only a burning desire to drive her to the brink and back for more. Lowering down to her, he whispered against her ear, "It is. I've never wanted you more."

  Shuddering in a breath, she cried, "Then blighted take me."

  He damn well intended to. His mouth traversed down her body, his fingers leading the charge to tantalize the skin before licking and sucking upon her. Each kiss caused Lana to squirm below him, gasps of pleasure and annoyance in equal measure as he took his time tasting her, teasing her. Gently, his fingers caressed down the shaved blade until he paused at the hilt begging for his attention. Cullen licked every flame, his tongue tracing the pattern of each before sliding down the sword to paradise. Moaning in anticipation, Lana wrapped her legs around the back of his head as his lips kissed against her lower ones. Digging into her inner thighs, he spread her open to lap up her excitement. The scent of her arousal, wet and warm, broke through every barrier Cullen threw up. He dove tongue first into her, licking and sucking first against her labia, then to her clit.

  Lana's legs clenched tight against his head, muffling his ears, but he could feel her moans through her body. A few slow licks earned him a soft sigh, and a rapid thrumming of his tongue caused her to lift her lower half high off the bed, screaming for him to get closer. Slick with her arousal, Cullen drew his finger across her inner lips before plunging it inside. Those sumptuous inner muscles pulsed, straining to clench against first one finger then a second.

  Raising away from his tempting work, Cullen whispered, his voice throaty with desire, "Do the spell."

  "Really?" Lana squeaked, her eyelids flying open as she tried to look down at him. He only smiled wide and returned to work, chasing that perfect rhythm against her. Unable to taste anything but Lana, he could only feel the hair on his arms lift at the veil parting into their world. He didn't know what she was preparing on her hands knotted tight above her head, but judging by the building mana it was powerful. Maker, what did he get himself into?

  Her clit throbbed under his tongue's lavish attentions as he drove his fingers inside of her - shallow at first, but reaching deeper and deeper. Even while she put her mental focus on casting a spell, Lana panted - her body trembling as she squirmed to try and thrust with him. It wasn't long now. Her vagina clamped tighter against him, trying to draw his fingers deeper in. Cullen kept the same lick, twist, suck motion up while he dipped down into the nothing of templars.

  "M-m-m-maker," Lana moaned, her thighs straining beside his head as she walked ever closer to the end. Thrusting as deep inside as he could reach, Cullen blanketed her in a mana cleanse, wiping away the spell. The hit was instantaneous, something in it pushing her right off the cliff. Her entire body snapped rigid, only the pulses of her ecstatic vagina responding as she rode it out as long as possible. When Lana's legs fell slack off his neck, Cullen drew his tongue back from her. "Sweet, damn, holy..." her words trembled in time with her body.

  Sliding off his trousers, he climbed over top of her. Lana lay in rapture, her eyes slipped shut and a grin etched upon her face. He wished he could imprint that picture of her in euphoria onto his heart. Sensing the man hovering above, her eyes rolled open - a blissful sheen across them - and she smiled, "That was, holy beyond the void of...um, perfect."

  Cullen squared his knees beside her hips and bent down, his fingers tracing her cheek, "I'm not finished yet."

  With her hands still knotted in the sweater, Lana threw them behind his head, draggin
g his face towards her for a never ending kiss. While their lips mashed and sucked, he shifted his weight to be able to cup her breast, pinching her nipple between his fingers. Lana gasped, her bound hands digging into his skin in surprise. Quickly, she wrapped one leg then the other around his stomach, pulsing the hilt of her sword right above his own. Instinctively, he thrusted forward, his cock slipping right on up across her lips.

  She paused in her kissing to shrug, "It's all on you. I'm afraid I'm tied up at the moment."

  "You are," Cullen growled in hunger from the depths of his soul. With almost all of her hanging off him, he shifted his weight to the side to grab onto himself and guide the head of his cock inside her. Lana bore down, her wetness driving him deep through her. "Holy Maker!" he gasped, his hand flying out to the bed to catch himself.

  "I'm the holy Maker?" Lana smirked. He froze above her while she drug her heels up and down his back, those mischievous eyes taunting him.

  Cullen placed his forehead against hers, trying to ground himself, "In this moment, yes." Slowly, he drew himself out, savoring the cushion of every bump and turn inside of her. Lana groaned, her legs lifting higher as she tried to encourage him to bore out all of her, but he kept the thrusts shallow. Beads of sweat percolated off her collarbone, the shine drawing his lips to that birthmark. The moment he kissed it, tasted the petals of her sweet skin, he drove his cock deep.

  Incoherent cries of pleasure erupted from Lana, her back arcing as she tried to push him further in while also exposing her neck. Maker, the woman was a challenge. Each touch of his lips was met with a thrust, the rhythm languid but gaining in speed while the woman he loved clenched with each one. She adored torturing him, watching him squirm above and below her.

  "Ah ha," he paused, feeling sweat drip across his shoulders and down straining biceps. Swallowing back the urge to drive himself to the brink, Cullen slid out of her - the head of his cock bouncing against the warm perfection it yearned for.

  Lana bunched up her lips in consternation, then her eyes traveled up to his. Yanking her hands off from behind his head, she sat up, Cullen following her for fear she might head-butt him off the bed. While perched on his knees near the edge of the bed, he watched slightly confused as Lana kissed him. Her lips ambushing his for a heated kiss, then she bent over. He caught on to her plans the breath before her tongue danced across his quivering cock.

  "By all the..." Cullen groaned from the depths of his balls while she plied him with every trick she knew - her bound hand managing to slide up and down his shaft to trail that tantalizing tongue. Her fingers reached lower to cup his balls, gently rotating them in her palm before she pushed a finger against the skin directly behind them. Bending her finger over, she massaged his taint, the combo of tongue and digit stimulation drawing all discipline from Cullen's body. He couldn't stop her if he tried, but it was Lana who lifted her head, removed her fingers and smiled at him.

  Wet with the juices from both her lips, Cullen shuddered to drag himself back from the explosion. In his state he barely noticed the smell of magic rising in the air until Lana tapped her fingers together and then touched herself. Watching her add that vibration spell to her own clitoris pushed him to the limits of desire. "I need you," he groaned, reaching out to cup her breast.

  Lana lifted her eyebrows, rolled that captivating tongue in her cheek and shrugged, "Wanna go for mabari?"

  "Are you, can you remain up long enough?"

  She spun around the bed to place her hands before her. Lifting her voluptuous ass towards him she smiled, "That's what I was going to ask you."

  "What am I...?" his train of thought evaporated as he curved his palm against her delectable asscheeks. Rising up on his own knees to match her, Cullen bit down on a hungry growl from the vision before him of Lana's breasts skimming the bed while on all fours. Gripping tight to himself to try and calm the blood, he guided his cock into her. Maker, against all laws of nature, somehow this was even tighter. Lana began to pant instantly, her head tossed back as she begged for something. He couldn't make it out through the blood rushing out of his ears. In that moment he was nothing but his cock slipping deeper and deeper inside of her, drawing even more moaning as she pushed back.

  He'd tried going slow, but there was nothing left now. He needed to fill all of her. Grabbing onto her hips, Cullen situated his knees, about to begin thrusting faster when Lana unleashed her spell. He could feel the vibrations rolling up from her clitoris, causing her to pant even more, her vagina clenching tighter into him. But another stronger vibration rolled up through his balls, the shaft of his cock, and the entirety of his lower body. Driving on pure instinct, he pumped into her, the back of his tongue falling numb as every nerve in his lower body screamed out in ecstasy. Lana clenched tighter around him, her head dropping to the bed as she cried out incoherently, and her orgasm finally let him tip over the edge.

  His legs began to shake, trembling to match his cock spraying what felt like a month's worth inside her. Maker's breath! Lana collapsed onto the bed, her energy beyond spent, and he followed with, laying on top of her like a blanket. His body was spinning around, his skin sensitive to the slightest touch from the internal explosion, while Lana's warm body below draped pure bliss over him. He was at war with himself to leap up in joy or curl up in sleep.

  Cullen settled for leaning close to her ear, "I didn't realize you slipped one of those onto me."

  He felt her smile into the mattress, "Thought you might like it."

  "Maker, beyond, it was. As if everything inside..." without words to explain he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, "There are definite perks to sleeping with a mage."

  "And a templar," Lana added. Her hands remained bound up in his sweater below her, but he knew that wasn't what she meant.

  "I'd never have thought a mana drain could cause such an impact," he said sliding back her hair and caressing her shoulders.

  "It doesn't have that effect all the time," she lifted up on her hands and began to twist around. Regretfully, Cullen pulled himself out of her, and she flipped around to face him. At least he could get lost in her beautiful face. "Just, you know, during sex. Maker, be right embarrassing if it happened during a fight. Uh sorry, I know you're trying to kill me and all but I suddenly need to change my smalls."

  Two years he'd grieved, blamed himself, blamed her, blamed Hawke, blamed the Inquisitor, blamed the Maker for taking her away. He never dreamed he could touch her skin again. Feel the rise and fall of her ample chest against his, watch her lips glisten as she wet them in anticipation, hear her sighs as she pulled herself back from euphoria. For the first time in his life, Cullen felt that everything was finally right, happiness a true possibility.

  Lana reached up to run her bound hands down his chest, "You look a hundred miles away. What are you thinking?"

  "How much I love you," he answered truthfully. He worried that he didn't have the right words to convince Lana he cared, how she rested deep in his heart and always would. From the way she looked at him, the way she smiled whenever he told her the stark truth, Cullen realized he didn't need to find the perfect answer - the fact it was his truth was enough.

  "I love you too," she smiled, then her ornery eyes drifted lower, "and I especially love what you can do." Lana moved to lift her arms but they dropped against the bed, exhaustion evident. Cullen slid to her side to tenderly unknot his sweater off her.

  "Too much?" he asked, concerned as always. She had a long road to walk to becoming her old self, if she ever reached it.

  "No," Lana shook her head, her freed hands wrapping around his cheeks, "Just right." Kissing him, she managed a few more seconds before a yawn broke them apart. Lana flopped back onto the bed, her eyelids drooping. "Sleep sounds delightful right now."

  Cullen lifted her body in his arms so he could pull back the blanket and drape it over her. With it tucked below her arms, he was drawn to the beautiful scoop of her shoulders, dewey with sweat. Lana yawned again and flipped onto her side
, prepared to make good on her promise. Pulling up the edge of the blanket, Cullen slid in beside her, his hand gripping tight to her stomach.

  "What are you doing?" Lana asked, struggling against the allure of sleep. "You can't be tired. You just rose from a nap."

  "I'm not, but," he drew his body around hers, fitting tightly as if they were made for each other, "you shouldn't have to wake up alone."

  A small sigh overlaid with a shudder escaped from her, he'd lay beside her as long as she needed it. Lana gripped onto his fingers and leaned back against him. Tears clinging to her words, she whispered, "I love you, my templar."

  "And I you, my mage."

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tradition

  9:45 Denerim

  Plumper in the middle than either ends and a disquieting purple color, the sausage rolled around on Lana's plate as she glared at it.

  "I told you," Alistair hummed, his chosen slop dribbling down his chin.

  She shrugged, "How does one mess up a sausage? Seems like you'd have to be actively trying to get it that color."

  Reaching over the table, he jabbed at her meat with his spoon and a squelching sound erupted from the casing. They both grimaced at it, sharing a 'that's not normal' look. "Your funeral if you eat it."

  "I'm not twenty any longer, and that dare never worked on me anyway," Lana countered with. She slid the plate away from her, not really hungry. They only stopped in the old gnarled tavern because it was tradition. And knowing its traditional food, they also snatched up some fresh pastries off a cart in the main thoroughfare before stopping for dinner. Not that a stomach full of doughy treats did anything to slow the king of Ferelden slopping gruel down his gullet.