..."I'm going to stop talking now."

Shaila could almost feel his blush as he followed her into the tent, glancing once over his shoulder to see if we were being watched. They probably were, thought Shaila, but their companions were polite enough or more likely, sneaky enough not to be seen. It was good thing too, because she figured he'd have bolted if he'd seen one of them, despite his endearingly awkward enthusiasm.

She slipped into the tent, and held the flap open, inviting him in once again with one hand, while she absently created a dim mage-light and warmed the blankets with the other. She almost shook her head as she realized once again that he was looking to her for experience. She knew that she'd given him the impression that she'd licked a few lamp-posts in winter...remembering that conversation, Shaila almost snorted laughter, but was afraid he'd take it wrong. Sure, she'd given the impression of some experience, but only because she was pretty sure he'd back off completely if he realized she was a virgin too. Him and his damned honour, she thought, though she loved him for it, it would probably have required that he keep her pure.

He entered through the open flap and hovered as she dropped the piece of canvas. Just as Shaila thought the tension was becoming unbearable, Alistair looked up from where he'd been watching his feet and met Shaila's eyes. The expression in his eyes was as open as she'd ever seen it, and the love she saw there made her breath hitch slightly. I hope that he can see that love reflected in my eyes, Shaila thought.

Alistair reached out his hand and traced a single finger down Shaila's cheek. "Maker's Breath," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Maker's Breath but you are beautiful." His tone sent shivers down Shaila's spine. He tucked a strand of errant hair behind her ear, and then ran his hands down her arms, to take her hands in his. He squeezed them gently and drew her downward, until they were both kneeling, then leaned forward, her hands still in his and touched his lips to hers. Compared to the kiss that they'd just shared outside, this one was chaste. At least it started out that way. His lips moved slowly over hers for several moments, until Shaila'd had enough of the slow pace. She slipped her tongue out and brushed it against his lips. For a moment he froze, as if by one of her spells, and seemed not to draw breath, then as though a thin cord of control had snapped, his tongue delved deeply into her mouth. A steely strong arm wrapped around her waist and drew her close but stopped with the smallest space separating them, while he continued to search her mouth.

Though Shaila's thinking was a bit hazy, she understood why Alistair had hesitated, and she remedied the situation quickly. She shifted forward, and brought her body flush with his, the softness of her breasts against the hardness of his chest, the press of his manhood against her belly. She was rewarded with a stifled groan against her mouth, and Alistair's hand burying itself in her hair.

She drew her lips away from his and traced a trail with her lips along the roughness of Alistair's cheek then down to his neck. He threw his head back to allow her access, a growl of pleasure vibrating under her lips. She ran her hands across his back, reveling in the feeling of his hard muscles, but frustrated by the loose shirt that was covering them. With a jerky motion, she pulled the shirt from the rope belt that held it closed, and ran her hands over the smooth skin of his back. She felt the growl vibrating once more, and then he took her lips again, his moving aggressively over hers. The scratch of his stubble only served to inflame her senses more.

His hands were mirroring hers, moving in patterns that set fire to her back, even though he had not yet ventured under his shirt. His fingers would move down to worry the hem of her shirt, and then he'd move them back up to draw those enticing patterns. After the third time he made the abortive movement to take off her shirt, Shaila broke the kiss, bit back a curse and shifted back from him slightly, the cooling air that moved between them an unwelcome sensation.

Alistair watched her, moving his hands to sides, his passion filled eyes now slightly clouded with uncertainty. Shaila's heart broke slightly at the sight as she thought how quick he was to expect rejection, even now. Not wanting to prolong the thread of doubt that she knew was running through his mind, she pulled both her shirt and her breastband up and over her head with a few spare motions. Before he had time for any reaction, other than passion darkening his eyes even more, she leaned towards him and stripped his shirt off of him as well. Then she cupped his rough cheek, running her thumb over his cheekbone. In a voice made unsteady with arousal, she said, "You never need doubt how I feel about you, love."

In answer, Alistair reached out a hand that trembled slightly to reverently cup her breast. With a rumble deep in his chest he pressed forward until she fell back onto her bedroll and he seized her lips once more, his tongue delving into her mouth. His arms on either side of her created pillars to a prison she never wanted to escape.

He slid his mouth off of hers, pressing kisses along her jawline to her ear, which he flicked with his tongue, making her gasp. He continued down to her throat, again mimicking her earlier actions, returning the pleasure that she'd given him. He continued pressing hot kisses against her neck, and then growing more daring, moved slightly down to the top of her chest, but again she could feel his hesitation. "It's alright," she whispered, somehow managing to find her voice as she buried her fingers in his silky hair. Gently she urged him down until his lips hovered above her breasts.

"Maker," he muttered, and bent his head to the firm mound and swirled his tongue around the nipple, making a very male sound of approval when she gasped aloud. He leaned his weight on one arm, freeing his other hand to run over her breast, his calloused fingers making her tremble. After laving attention on her breasts for several minutes, he shifted back up and pressed gentle kisses to her temple and cheek and then lips. "Ah Shaila, my love," he murmured against her ear, then drew back to look at her, shifting so that he was laying beside her, his hand still caressing her breast. She met his eyes, a tremor running though her when his rough thumb ran over her nipple. Holding his gaze, she hooked her thumbs in her leggings; lifting her hips and drawing them down until she kicked them off, leaving only her smallclothes on. She narrowed her eyes in an unspoken challenge.

Alistair caught the challenge, blushed and grinned his goofy grin. Still her Alistair, she thought and cupped his face. But there was a determined glint to his eye as he covered her mouth in a hot arousal filled kiss. He drew back and in a rapid move shucked both his pants and his smallclothes. His manhood sprang up, straining towards her in his need.

Shaila's courage failed her now, and she blushed to the roots of her hair, averting her eyes, a tremor of both arousal and panic running though her body. "Shaila?" His deep velvety voice caressed her, but she knew him well enough that she could hear that the thread of doubt was back. She felt a single finger under her chin, urging her to look up at him. She flicked her eyes up to his, then shifted them away to focus on his cheek, the raw passion in his face almost too much for her.

"I..." she began, and her voice broke. She took a deep breath and started again. "Alistair," She felt his body tense, as if for a blow and she cursed herself for this sudden panic she felt. "Alistair, I may have exaggerated my experience with lamp-posts in winter. Umm... really exaggerated it..." she trailed off and forced herself to meet his eyes. He frowned for a moment, not making sense from what she was saying, and then suddenly he burst into laughter.

"We've been doing just fine until now, my love. I'm sure we can figure it out together." He rained feather light kisses over her face, carefully only touching her with his upper body. At the light unpressuring touches, Shaila could feel her body relax, and soon the light touches were a tease. She grabbed the back of his head when he feathered a kiss over he lips again and she touched her tongue to his lips as she had done earlier that evening in a signal that she was ready to pick up where they had left off. Alistair responded as he had before and deepened the kiss, his hands once again roaming her body freely.

Shaila's hands too were exploring their new kingdom. She moved them from his hard chest to his muscular back in slow circles that edged ever downwards. When they reached his tight rear, and she ran her hands over it, his hips twitched forward, bumping his manhood into her and eliciting a gasp from both of them. The both continued stroking, touching and finding places with both finger and tongue that made the other gasp until Shaila could feel curiosity replacing her earlier panic.

She ran her hand along the outside of his thigh, then moved her fingers to the inside and began to draw them back up along it. For a second his hands stopped moving and she was pretty sure that his whole attention was focused on the location of her fingers. Then he continued as he had been, with a nonchalance that she was pretty sure he wasn't feeling. As her hand moved upwards, she brushed past his wiry curls then discovered his member. It was hot silky steel. She ran her fingers along it and he shuddered, his mouth suddenly frantic on hers. As suddenly as he'd deepened the kiss, he broke it off and looked down to where her hand was touching him. She kept her eyes on her face, watching the play of desire and passion. There was nothing awkward or goofy about his expression now.

"Take your sword in hand," he whispered, echoing the words he used when they started practicing swordplay. Those words were never going to mean the same thing again.

She moved her hand, encircling him, and was rewarded by a slight buck of his hips. "Yess," he hissed though his teeth, "Just like that... But easy," he said as she moved her hand up and down, fascinated by the way the skin moved over the core. She paused, afraid that she'd done something wrong. He must have read her mind because he continued, "Just a bit too good."

She moved her hand more slowly, and then mustered the courage to force her eyes from his face and down to where her hand gripped him. The sight of her hand on him enflamed her even more. She felt like her whole body was on fire and when she felt his fingers edge into her smallclothes, she let her head fall back and closed her eyes. He pulled the smallclothes off and gently touched her core. Her breathing quickened as his slightly clumsy, but heartfelt stroking and exploration stoked her fire within.

His hand left her, and she felt bereft, murmuring a protest when he slid out of her grip. "Shh," he said and she could feel him shifting positions, nudging her knees apart. He leaned forward to kiss her softly, but with barely restrained heat. She could feel the heaviness of his manhood pressed between them. "Are you ready, sweet?"

She nodded, but the response wasn't enough for him. He stroked her cheek with his hand, encouraging her to open her eyes. She did so, and met his gaze. "Are you sure?" His gaze was steady and warm, passion flickering at the edges of his gaze. Only the thin sheen of sweat and the slight trembling of his hands betrayed the strain he was under.

"I'm sure," she said, her tone hushed. "Are you?"

"Yes, oh Maker, yes I'm sure," he replied.

After exchanging several superheated kisses, Alistair reared up and took his member into his hand, probing her softness with it. His breath came faster, and his movements more jerky as he searched for her entrance, and it was quickly evident to Shaila that she was going to have to help. She soothed his hands away from himself, drawing them up to her face and kissing them, then she moved her hands back down, taking him into her own hand. His hips bucked violently and he growled once more, framing her face with his fingers, then running them down to cup her breasts.

She lined him up, the tip of him member hovering at her entrance. "Now," she managed. He slid home, and she felt a minor pain prickle, but it was quickly lost in the other sensations. Alistair held himself stiffly still for a long moment, stroking her face, and she wasn't sure whether it was for her benefit or his. The moment passed and he began to move slowly, with great restraint. Shaila arched to meet him as he moved faster, not recognizing the sounds that were coming from her throat. Alistair bent to muffle the noises that she seemed unable to control. His tongue followed the movements of his hips, plunging into her mouth. Their sweat-slickened bodies slid together, and Shaila lost her ability to concentrate. "Alistair?" Her voice was filled with passion, but tinged with her earlier panic.

"Hush," he said, "I've got you, you can let go," His voice was rough with arousal, and edged with heavy breathing, but she could hear the tenderness, and she trusted and let go. A wave of sensation crested over her, and she thought that she may have called out. She heard Alistair make a muffled sound through her haze of pleasure. He thrust strongly, and then was rigidly still, and she felt him throbbing deeply within her. She reached for him, and accepted his weight as he collapsed onto her, spent.

For what seemed like ages afterwards, they lay like that, content just to be touching, until Shaila noticed a lightheadedness that had nothing to do with the wondrous experience of moments before. "Hey big man," she said, giving him a very gentle elbow to the gut. "You're going to crush me flat."

She felt the chuckle shaking him. "Can't have that," he said, shifting onto the bedroll. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him until they lay like a pair of spoons. "That would be no fun at all," his warm breath tickled her ear. He flipped the blanket over the two of them and wiggled until their whole bodies lay flush. He nipped her ear, and whispered, "My love."

She lay her hands over his where they were pressed against her and squeezed, and then let herself fall into the drowse that clawing at the edges of her senses. "My love," she whispered back as sleep claimed her.