A/N: So, uh... this is straight-up smut. I needed to write some. If you don't like smut - move along! Nothing to see here! You've been warned.
Oh and, don't worry, I have other things in mind for my main fic which will be hotter. I just couldn't wait and I wanted to give y'all a taste of things to come. So to speak... lol!
Pairing: Who else? Dragon Age 2's f!Hawke & Fenris - back together in Act 3.
***Bioware owns the characters. I just make them do sexy things to each other.
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~~~ It's Mutual ~~~
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Hawke had kissed him with such ferocity, naked breasts pressing into his chest, her nails in the bare flesh of his back. He'd just been sliding his fingers under the band of her small clothes with the intent to remove that final barrier. So it is more than a little confusing to him when she stops and pulls away from his embrace.
"Say something, Fenris. Talk to me." Her gaze is languid and he does not wish to deny her anything but he also doesn't understand.
"You want to talk?" He panics. Did I do something wrong? He wonders if this is one of those moments where he's supposed to automatically know what he's done - but Hawke has never been that type of woman. She's much too direct for such games, one of the many reasons he likes her.
She nods, a sexy smile curling her mouth. Hawke's mouth. He swallows. He's starting to get the idea that nothing is wrong at all and that this is a good kind of game she's playing.
"What do you wish me to say?" It isn't easy to think of something witty when she is looking at him like that, eyes following the markings that weave down the sides of his body and disappear into his leggings. She's not even giving him any banter to work with.
"Say anything. You have the sexiest voice, Fenris, do you know that?"
"I... have a sexy voice?" The elf stares at her, considering her words. He always thought it was she who had the sexy voice, all caramel and purring tones that sent his skin crawling in the best of ways when they talked late into the evening, drinking wine in front of a fire.
"Oh yes," she laughs, nodding and regarding him like he is rather an idiot for not knowing this. "Your voice makes me think very naughty thoughts. The more you speak, the more I want to do to you."
A dark eyebrow arches high up under it's shade of silvery white hair. There is a strong stirring below his waist. Just hearing her talk about doing naughty things to him is quite intriguing. He very much wants to know what she'll do when inspired. And he wants to hear her say more things to him like this!
He reaches for her but she steps back, holding up her index finger and wagging it at him.
"Talk first."
Elven eyes, rich green like a forest glade, narrow in her direction. This is definitely a good kind of game. He enjoys a challenge and wonders what he can say that will inspire her the most. Hawke did admit to him once that she liked hearing the sounds of the Imperial language. Maybe he could try that. Or... maybe she would respond better if he simply told her what he wanted to do with her.
That has possibilities, he thinks, twitching at the idea of it. Although, Hawke does have a romantic streak. Perhaps she would like something sweeter.
"I want you... " he pauses. So many possibilities, he's actually a little giddy. As giddy as a broody elf can get.
When he doesn't continue and she grows impatient, she prompts him. "You want me..."
Yes, I do, he thinks to himself, his fitted leggings growing much too tight. All night, all day and forever.
Just hearing her say these words gives him an idea. "You will repeat after me. I wish to hear your voice as well. Is this acceptable?"
"It is." She looks curious and aroused by his suggestion.
The elf gazes at her body. Her strong, shapely legs, smooth stomach, the feminine curve of her hips, her breasts - he stops there for a moment, admiring their firm fullness - her proud stance and beautiful face. Resting on her eyes, he sees them flare with lust.
A ghost of a smile plays on the right corner of Fenris' mouth. "Volo vos."
Hawke eyes flash again as she breaks out in a grin. Arcanum! She was hoping for this.
"Volo vos," she says, copying his accent perfectly.
He smiles and gives her a quick nod of approval. "Volo basio vos."
"Volo baz..."
"Bah-sio" he says, slowly, helping. Her eyes watch his generous lips form the shape of the words. Did it just get warmer in here? She wonders.
"Volo basio vos." She says proudly.
His eyes start to darken and smolder. Despite the space between them, she can feel the vibration in the air when he says, "Volo gusto vos."
The way these words caress her ears creates a pool of heat between her legs. She licks her lips and his eyes widen in surprise. She guesses that, whatever he said, it has something to do with the mouth and she grins.
"Volo gusto vos," she repeats, meeting his eyes with an intense stare of her own.
This is exactly what she had in mind and more. The way he stands there, looking at her as if she is his unsuspecting prey, as if he may attack her at any moment. That deep rumbling in his chest when he speaks. She's definitely getting inspired to naughty things to this gorgeous man. It has been too long.
Fenris chooses his next words carefully. "Volo audire vos dico sicco meus nomen."
Hawke raises her eyebrows. This is a long one but she can see the pulse pound at his throat and the desire aching in his body and she really wants to get this right.
He gives her a wicked grin and says it again, but this time he says so quietly, she has to lean forward to catch all the sounds. Tricky elf.
Fenris can barely hold himself back. Hearing her speak in his native language, in that voice, repeating these... things. If she doesn't do something soon, he will. As she inches closer, drawn in by his clever ruse, he wills her to say the words. The curves of her body, the soft sway of her hips, it is entrancing the elf. She's so close... but no, he wants her to come to him. He says it one last time, even softer so that she has to come closer. She does. The heat of her body is a fire along the boundary of his skin. He can smell her hair.
Hawke looks up at him and says the phrase perfectly. He feels each word, each little breath. "Volo audire vos dico sicco meus nomen."
Her lips remain parted as they share the air between them. So trusting.
But a carnivore needs flesh.
Fenris reaches out and pulls her to him as she jumps in surprise at the speed of his attack. As he wraps an arm around her and slides his other hand up behind her neck, into her hair, she melts in surrender. He closes his fingers around a clutch of silky softness and pulls her head back, exposing her throat. Watching the pulse throb before his eyes he begins the second part of the lesson.
"Volo vos, means 'I want you'," he says and he sees her hands jerk slightly in the periphery of his vision but he does not release her. Instead, he runs his pointed elven tongue from the firmness of her collar bone, up along her racing pulse, to her jawline where he gently sets his teeth and growls.
She feels the rumble against her breasts, against her chest, as if he is speaking not only to her but through her. Hawke's eyelids half-close as she stares at the ceiling, unable to move.
His teeth drag lightly along her jaw to the corner near her ear. She can feel his breath coming heavily as his fingers make small motions against her skin, flexing and releasing but maintaining control.
"Volo basio vos, means 'I want to kiss you'."
She can't help the sigh that escapes as Fenris licks at her neck just below her ear, pulling her earlobe into his mouth and nipping at it gently. Then he trails searing kisses down the length of her neck to her shoulder, where he swirls his tongue on her skin. His hands slide quickly and surely over her body, changing position as she feels herself lifted. Fenris carries her to the bed and sets her down, pulling off her small clothes and tossing them into the corner. Then, in one fluid movement he is over her, sinking down against her, as he parts her legs with his own.
"Volo gusto vos, means 'I want to taste you'," he murmurs, kissing her throat, the narrow bone that divides her breasts, her stomach - sliding down her body. Then he lifts her legs up over his shoulders, onto his back. His hands massage her thighs as he watches her pant and clutch at the bed covers in anticipation.
The wolf is hungry. His hands dive under her hips, cupping her buttocks. He lifts her easily, drawing her towards him.
Her heart is a wild thing as she feels the tip of his pointed tongue running from bottom to top, tasting her. Then he pushes and separates her folds to explore her thoroughly.
Hawke cries out when he wanders north, flipping roughly over her clit. Her cries increase, jittery little squeaks interspersed with throaty moans of pleasure as he enjoys her, tongue swirling, cool air blowing, then plunging into her.
"Maker... Ahh!" Her hips, held in place by his steel grip, buck against his warm, laving tongue. She feels his teeth as he smiles, rewarded, and then continues licking, biting, sucking. Her heels dig into his back.
Hawke's fingers and toes are losing sensation - it's all focused sharply and gloriously between her legs. So when he speaks out loud again, it's a surprise.
"Volo audire vos dico sicco meus nomen, means 'I want to hear you call out my name'."
Hawke's head jerks up and she sees those green eyes glittering in the half-light, lined in amusement and watching for her reaction. She was going to say something but seeing him there, his silver white hair, his eyes, those sinister dark eyebrows, it almost stops her heart.
She swallows, "Wait. Wait! I want-"
One of those devious eyebrows rises. He says, "Volo..."
Hawke nods with enthusiasm. "Oh yes. Maker, Fenris, yes! Volo vos! But," she recalls the word, "Volo gusto vos."
She is shaky as she moves, her sex quivering in the nearness of bliss, but he has indeed inspired her to greater things. She squirms and pushes at him until he relents, releasing her. Hawke moves him to the center of the bed and rolls him onto his back. As a reward for compliance, she places a fevered kiss on his lips, tasting herself there as her fingers move to his waist and fiddle with the leather ties to his leggings. She loosens, he lifts, she pulls, he kicks - and, oh Maker. Fenris.
"Volo gusto vos," she says again and straddles his waist, facing his magnificent lower half.
What a man, she thinks, biting her lip as she admires the hardening column of flesh that awaits her.
"Marian," he whispers and she can feel his taut abdomen tighten under her when he speaks.
"Sorry, I was just relishing the view." She throws a sexy wink over her shoulder and he chuckles, making her bounce. It's good to hear him so carefree. "I want you to be this happy every day, Fenris."
"If that happens, I will have you to thank," he grins. "Now come here. I am not finished with you."
With that, he seizes her hips and pulls her backwards to his mouth as she leans down and licks the pearl of precum from the end of his long shaft. That sly tongue of his finds her apex again, renewing his assault, making her groan. His beautiful dark cock is standing before her and she's not about to let him get away with all the fun.
Hawke slides her lips around the blunt head, tasting salt, hears him grunt and hiss. She smiles, giving his glans a barelythere scrape with her teeth before taking him as fully as she can into her mouth, but it's rather hard to focus on him with the sensations traveling outward from her clit.
Maker, he's talented.
She redoubles her efforts and so does he. It is a race to see which one can distract the other from their task, make the other come first. She sucks and swirls and works his shaft with her hands, relying on her back muscles to keep her from falling over completely. But it's not easy. Fenris has her ass in the air, two strong fingers sliding in and out of her slick channel, rubbing on that little almond-shaped knot inside as he goads the bundled nerves outside with his tongue. It's not possible to think when he's doing that. The sensations are... just... oh yes, that's... it right... oh there, yes, THERE!
Fenris wins.
She cries out, jerking her mouth off his cock. Her orgasm seems to last forever, as she wails and pushes back. Riding him, inner walls grasping at his long fingers. When her forehead finally thunks onto his strong stomach, her ass still in the air, Hawke hears Fenris's chuckle of victory.
She's vaguely aware of him wiping his chin on her thigh and gets out a half-hearted, "Heyyy," before he's pressing down on her pelvis, moving her. He's too fast and strong and suddenly she's sitting upright on him again, straddling his waist as her breathing returns to normal. From this vantage point she is staring down at his impressive erection. Time to do something about that.
Hawke tries to move off her elven lover to reposition herself, but he holds her to him firmly. "No, stay like that. I want to see your back."
Fenris admires the strength in her shoulders, the narrow waist pinched at the center of her womanly hourglass. Her hair falls gently. Little muscles moving between her shoulder blades as she breathes in and out. This is the same view he's been watching for three long years as they trekked between the districts of Kirkwall, up and down the rocky paths of Sundermount, and along the Wounded Coast. Her back.
"Do you know how much I enjoy following you?" he asks. "I have watched you, trying to remember exactly what you look like beneath all the layers. This is the perfect view."
He runs a finger down her spine, making her shiver. "There was one day, in particular. We went to the Wounded Coast to find the Tal Vashoth. Do you remember?"
"Remember?" she says a little breathlessly. "I still fantasize about that day. It was very warm. I reached up to wipe the sweat off the back of my neck. I turned and saw you looking at me..."
She looks over her shoulder, "...rather like you are now."
Hawke bites her lip, watching the rise and fall of his muscled chest, the twisting lines of lyrium snaking up onto his chin and that deadly little half-smile of his. And those eyes...
"Maker, Fenris, this is hot."
"Continue," he says, smile widening as he takes hold of her hips and coaxes her up onto her knees. "I was looking at you and..."
"Well, I saw you looking at me that way and I wanted to chuck the mission, grab you and have my way with you right there."
"Tempting thought. Rather similar to my own."
"I... oh," she shuffles along on her knees, guided by the pressure of his hands, until she is centered over his erection. Hawke can feel it, stiff and ready, just grazing her sex.
"What would you do once you had me?" he asks, his voice low and thick.
"Well, I might..." She reaches down, brushing a fingertip against the sensitive dip just under the head of his penis. Fenris jerks and Hawke hears a sharp breath from behind her. She grins and runs her fingers down, along the ridge until her palm smooths against his sack. She massages it gently while the silken skin of her forearm grazes his shaft. With her other hand, she toys with his swollen head.
"Ah!" he hisses. "How are you doing that? It feels like there are two of you!"
"I told you your voice inspires me to do creative things, Fenris." His hands burn her hips, fingers flexing into her flesh. She turns and looks over her shoulder again as his eyes, watching the muscles play on her back, snap up to meet hers. "Now I'm going to do what I should have done that day."
"What - ah!" his breath catches as she gently flicks at him with a finger, "...is that exactly?"
"I'm going to fuck you."
Fenris's mouth falls open hearing that wonderfully filthy promise from Hawke's sweet, red lips.
She takes his cock in hand and places it against her opening, stirring the serum of her sex all over his sensitive, blunt crown.
He tries to hard not to thrash but can't help the thrusts his body makes and the tightening of his grip on her hips. Fenris can see everything - his eager cock in her hands, her tight ass, the reckless curves of her hips and waist and shoulders and... those eyes staring back at him, lips parted. Lips that have just promised him the world. He almost comes undone right then.
Fenris's hips thrust unbidden and he slips inside her, just enough to stretch her apart. Hawke's head tips back, hair falling onto her shoulders as she takes the shock of him inside her. She stays like this, face to the Maker, as she lowers her body down along the length of him, pinprick stars flash white behind her eyes as he opens her, fills her, gives her everything she's ever wanted and more.
The way their bodies fit together is sublime.
She's not quite taking the full length of him when she starts to slide back up, thighs working to lift and then lower her body down again. And again. Hawke hears him rumbling sighs and curses behind her. These wondrous sounds fill her ears and she knows it is she who is making them happen. She wants more of those glorious noises and moves a little faster. His hands move to the bend at the top of her legs. Fenris guides her, giving her a rhythm, which she follows gladly, encouraging more animal moans of pleasure from his lyrium-lined throat.
It's everything and yet, not enough. Her hunger for this man is boundless. She wants to devour him until there is nothing left.
Hawke circles her hips, pressing down, pushing past capacity, willing her body to open. He wants to give it and rises to meet her. The connection of the tip of his penis with the opening of her womb is electric, a pleasure center she never knew she had until her gifted elf discovers it for her. She gasps in wonder at the stars that spark before her eyes, pulling dim prickling sensations from her hands and feet. The core of her body, plundered by his hardness is the pinnacle of stinging sweet awareness. Her muscles within are beginning to clench around him. She's close. So close she can't speak - can only take sharp breaths and feel the stirring rise within her.
"Volo audire vos dico sicco meus nomen!" says the battle-toned warrior beneath her, lifting his hips - and her - off the bed and driving into her body. The pounding is so deep and raw, she isn't sure if she's going to pass out or come first but then it happens.
"F-Fenrisss!" It is more like an awestruck whisper than a shout.
Like droplets of new rain splashing onto her face and shoulders, it starts with a few tiny tics of current pricking her flesh. Then a second of nothing - a weightless, silent hush of almost - before the mighty crash of torrential feeling that falls down on her, crushing her, contracting her spine and hammering all sensation into a point of fire between her legs. She shatters into a thousand pieces, each one a joyous shimmer of settling dust that once was a piece of the champion of a city.
It feels like being reborn - she comes into the world in waves, screaming and blind.
As her body seizes around him, his thrusts become erratic. Fenris scrabbles out a chain of guttural cries which ascend into a single note of liberation. She writhes over his last few strokes as he spills inside her, and gasps as he lowers them both back onto the bed, spent.
Hawke falls back onto his chest, feeling his arms wrap around her, still holding his slowly softening organ inside her. They lay panting as her head rolls over onto his shoulder.
"I love your voice," she says, sighing. She can feel his heart beat against her back.
"I enjoy hearing you call my name," he says, pressing his face into her hair. "I will never tire of it."
"Never? That could be a very long time, Fenris."
He covers her breasts with his warm hands. "Nothing would make me happier."
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FIN