The Wager

Isabela could hardly take her eyes off the handsome Knight-Captain while Kit was discussing Meredith's latest acts of insanity with him. Maker, but Cullen was an attractive man! Thick curly hair, golden skin, high cheekbones and those lovely hazel eyes... A pity the man had chosen to be a Templar, of all things.

As they made their way across the Gallows courtyard over to the weapon smith, she sighed dreamily. "What a waste!"

Kit glanced over at her and raised a skeptical eyebrow, reading her thoughts easily. "Really, Bells, a Templar?" He made a face, and she remembered that he had never quite forgiven Cullen for having been the one to take Bethany to the Circle.

Isabela shrugged. "What? You have to admit he's cute." Cute doesn't come near it. I would jump his bones any day.

An amused smile appeared on Kit's face. "Forget it, honey. You don't stand a chance with him. He's far too virtuous to be led astray."

Anders snorted contemptuously. "And what makes you think so, Hawke? The Rose is full of Templars every night. They certainly aren't all that concerned about their chastity."

But Kit shook his head. "The average Templar may not be, but he is. Don't you remember the way he was blushing when he asked us to talk to the girls at the Rose, back when we were looking for Keran? I wouldn't be surprised if he's a virgin."

Isabela grinned. "All the more interesting then. I bet I could make him forget his vows for a night."

Kit rose to the challenge immediately. "A wager then? I bet you can't seduce him in the course of the next two weeks."

The pirate was not to be outdone. "Two weeks... done! And what do I get once I'm successful?"

Kit's grin widened and he pulled her close, whispering something in her ear that made her blush briefly, then sigh a long, happy sigh. Anders rolled his eyes at the pair of them, while Varric shook his head.

"Promise?" Isabela cocked her head and looked up at Kit. "I'll hold you to this."

"I expect no less." Kit's voice was dark and husky. "But first you'll have to deal with our dear Knight-Captain. And if you fail..."

The pirate laughed triumphantly. "I won't. If I fail, you choose your prize."

It took her a few days to come up with a plan, and it was far from foolproof, but she was counting on luck to make it work. Well, luck and her considerable assets. It wasn't easy to make sure Cullen would be in Lowtown on a given night, but in the end, she managed to arrange for an anonymous informer who would only talk to the Knight-Captain in person. When he was on his way back from the clandestine meeting, she set the second part of her plan in motion.

Pat and Squirrel were two old friends of hers and it only took a few drinks and a gold coin each to persuade them to take part in her little comedy. They certainly looked the part of scruffy, down-on-their-luck pirates, even without the few artistic touches she added. The three of them hid in a side alley until she was sure Cullen was approaching. Then she tore up her tunic across her breasts and screamed for help as the two attacked her. She fought back a little, taking care to leave some harmless but visible wounds on them. Cullen wasn't stupid. He had seen her before and knew she could defend herself, so it wouldn't do to look completely helpless.

Of course he came running as soon as he heard her cry. At the sight of his heavily armed silhouette, Pat backed off into the shadows without having to be told, and Squirrel lived up to his name by disappearing up a wall at an impressive speed.

"Are you all right?" Cullen stepped up to her, sword in hand, and she didn't have to pretend to be breathless and flustered. He looked fierce and angry and incredibly sexy.

"Yes, thank you. Those two were..." she broke off and closed her eyes for a moment.

He recognized her immediately. "You are the pirate. Hawke's companion."

She nodded. "Isabela. It's a good thing you came along."

Cullen shrugged. "Would you like me to walk you home? You seem a little... shaken."

His voice was courteous and concerned, and Isabela allowed herself a brief shudder, knowing he would blame it on her recent experience. "Yes, please, Knight-Captain. If you don't mind."

Part three of her plan had demanded that she got herself a room at a quiet little inn for the night. Her usual room at the Hanged Man wouldn't do; Cullen would never set foot in it. But she had found the perfect place, not far from the scene of the ambush, run by a discreet little widow who was only too happy about the extra income. The house was modest and clean and the room, though tiny, contained a table with two chairs and a large, comfortable bed. And it had its own discreet entrance, via a roofed balcony at the back of the house.

She let Cullen take her arm while they walked over, but was careful not to act too obvious. He knew she was no blushing flower, and if she overdid it, he would smell a rat. So she tried making conversation, asking him what he was doing in that part of town at night and receiving a predictably vague answer in return. He didn't ask what she was doing here, for which she was grateful. She noticed he was throwing her quick sideways glances whenever he thought she wasn't looking. Still, they were getting close to her door now, and she hadn't made any significant progress. Choosing a moment when his attention was elsewhere she quickly used her dagger to place a long shallow cut on her ribcage, just below her right breast.

When Cullen put his gloved hand on her waist to help her up the stairs to her door, she flinched and gave a tiny gasp of pain. He withdrew his hand immediately, his eyes widening when he saw the blood on his glove.

"You're hurt. Why didn't you say so? I'll get you a healer." There was genuine concern in his voice.

"No need." She quickly took hold of his wrist to prevent him from going off. "I have poultices in my room. I'll be fine."

Isabela held her breath for a few seconds, afraid he would take his leave, but she had read him correctly.

"At least let me help you." He pushed her firmly over the threshold and closed the door behind them, throwing off his gloves. "Where are those poultices?"

"Over there, in the little cupboard." She motioned with her head toward the other side of the room. While he was busy there, she unlaced and removed her corset. She had taken care not to damage it, but the blood stains would be a pain to get out. Her tunic was cut up badly, and she was glad she had chosen an old one. Cullen had turned around and was watching her, and she saw his pupils widen. Shaking himself, he moved over, gripped her around the waist with both hands and lifted her unceremoniously onto the table.

"Let me have a look." His hands were firm and sure as he pushed the fabric aside and examined the shallow cut, but she noticed a slight pink tinge to his ears.

"It's just a scratch, see? Nothing to worry about." She kept her voice light, but she was shivering when his fingers gently traced the cut before applying the poultice.

Cullen's breath was coming faster now, she noticed, and his hands were shaking ever so slightly. He was breathing in her scent, and for a moment, he closed his eyes, clearly struggling with the impulse to let his hand run further along her silky skin. But he kept his control with iron resolution.

Then, just as he was raising his head to withdraw, she moved an inch closer, and her breasts brushed across the knuckles of his hand. Isabela couldn't stop the moan from escaping her lips at his touch, nor could she deny the reaction of her own body. Not that she particularly wanted to. Her nipples grew hard as stone at the contact and Cullen hissed in surprise. His whole body tensed.

"Cullen..." It was no effort at all to sound sultry, to make her voice husky with desire. "Cullen, please..."

He groaned at her words, the sound coming from deep inside his throat, and his hand cupped her cheek, pulling her closer, his lips hovering just an inch from hers, still holding back, still not daring to cross the distance.

"Please..." Isabela lifted her hand and let her thumb stroke softly over his lips.

Another hoarse groan and the dam broke. He kissed her, hard and deep and with a violent passion that spoke of many years of restraint. His hands were on her breasts again, but this time he was cupping them both, kneading the soft flesh, his thumb-pads teasing her nipples until she was whimpering. Definitely not a virgin. He knew what he was doing, without any doubt.

Isabela arched up into his touch, desperate for more, and frantically tried to unbuckle his armour. He stepped back a little to allow her better access, but didn't let go of her lips. Cullen seemed starved, ravenously hungry for all the pleasures he had denied himself for so long. His armour and underclothes came off at surprising speed while he was pushing her tunic roughly down to her waist, baring her ample breasts to him.

"Maker's mercy!" His eyes were feasting on her, drinking in the opulence of her curves, the soft brown shimmer of her skin, the dusky darkness of her nipples.

The pirate was looking back at him with no less enthusiasm. The body he had hidden under the bulky armour was nothing short of amazing. Strong, muscular arms and legs, a broad chest, a chiselled abdomen and slender hips, perfect, well-defined muscles under a skin so smooth and golden that it made her heart stand still just to look at him.

"Do you train in the nude?" Her voice was shaky with desire. He looked at her in confusion. "You are tanned all over," she explained, letting her hands travel over the smooth planes of his chest and further down south, eliciting a breathless gasp from him.

"Oh, that?" He grinned, a little self-consciously. "I enjoy swimming in the sea. In spring and summer, I am out at the Coast every other day, whenever I can make it."

Isabela swallowed. "I think I would pay to see that." The image of his glorious body, frolicking around naked in the surf under a hot summer sun, was enough to make a wave of heat pool between her legs.

Cullen briefly blushed again, but she could see he was enjoying the compliment. Before he had an opportunity to think about what he was doing, she pulled him close, moaning at the feel of his long hard torso against her breasts. He needed no further invitation. His hands were everywhere on her body, tearing off the remnants of her tunic, finding every inch of her skin. When she was naked, he picked her up easily and carried her over to the bed, tumbling down onto the sheets with her, kissing her feverishly.

His lips found her breasts again, and he licked her nipples before latching onto one of them and sucking hard, making her cry out with pleasure. The expression on his face was one of pure concentration as his lips wandered further down, while his hands were parting her legs, spreading her wide for him. Isabela grabbed his thick blond curls, moving his head impatiently where she wanted him, and to her surprise he laughed, a soft chuckle that made her shiver all over.

"You know what you want, don't you?" He dipped his tongue between her folds for the briefest of moments before looking up at her with a grin. His eyes were almost completely green now, and the smile changed his handsome, patrician face, made him look younger, more relaxed than she had ever seen him. Her heart skipped a beat at the way he was looking at her body, so full of desire, so hungry for her, yet at the same time so eager to give her what she needed.

"I want you, Cullen." Her hand gripped his hair harder, her nails scratching across his scalp and he bent down again, rasping his tongue all over her in a single long stroke that had her hips flying off the bed. He held her down with both hands and went on, tasting her with a greed that made her tremble.

She was so hot for him now she forgot all about her plan, about the wager, about the reward that awaited her. All she knew was that she had to have him inside her, that she couldn't wait for him to bury himself in her heat. With a soft mewl, she pulled him up into a kiss, wrapping her legs around him, begging him wordlessly to take her.

Cullen was more than ready. "Isabela!" With a heartfelt sigh, he sank inside her, sheathing himself as deeply as he could, then remained perfectly still, his eyes closed, his face enraptured. "Maker, this is so good..."

His first strokes were slow and restrained, but he rapidly lost control at the feel of her hot tight body around him. His rhythm faltered and then he gasped and let go completely, pounding into her with wild abandon, his eyes rolling back in their sockets, his whole body tautening over her, around her, inside her. With a breathless sigh, he collapsed on top of her.

When he opened his eyes, he looked bashful. "I'm sorry, Isabela. It's been too long since I-"

"Shhhh," she cut him off, placing a gentle finger on his lips. "I understand. Don't worry, I take it as a compliment. And I'm sure you'll make it up to me."

Cullen's eyes widened as he felt her muscles clench around him, softly coaxing him back to life. "Andraste's grace, Isabela, what are you doing to me?"

The pirate laughed softly. "I rather hope that you will be doing more things to me soon."

The blush on his face returned at her words, but he bowed down to kiss her, his hands back on her breasts in a subtle caress that had her gasp. "Then I'll try not to disappoint you."

When the Knight-Captain had taken his leave early next morning, kissing her shyly, a little of his initial reserve back in place, Isabela lay back with a contented sigh. This little wager had yielded far more pleasurable results than she had expected. She felt utterly sated and blissfully exhausted.

And she hadn't even got around to collecting her prize from Kit yet...

Zevgirl did a great beta job on this - many, many thanks!