Chapter 3 - Cool Down

When Bethany woke up, it took her a few minutes to get her bearings. Then the memories came back with full force, and she flinched. What in Andraste's name had Tabby gotten herself into this time? The hunt and the party had been pleasant enough, even if it had soon become apparent that her sister and Tallis had some hidden agenda. A jewel theft. Only it hadn't been a jewel after all. Bethany sighed. She had known from the start that Tallis couldn't be trusted. And now Prosper was dead, their saddle bags were stuffed full of stolen treasures and Tabby and Isabela had no doubt spent the night celebrating their victory.

A single tear was rolling down her cheek. All she had wanted was a pleasant night out, a precious moment of freedom outside the Circle. And what had she got? Another fight, another ignominious escape. Her gaze fell on her ruined dress, bunched up on the floor where she had dropped it last night. She was so sick and tired of her sister and her adventures. With a deep sigh, she got up and put her robes back on. Time to leave.

Cullen was waiting for her outside the inn with the horses, but there was no sign of Tabby or Isabela. She was about to go back in and knock on their door, when she heard her sister's familiar whistle and looked up to see them appear on the inn's large wooden balcony.

"We'll be staying here for a few more nights. Celebrate, you know?" Tabby was only half-dressed, wearing nothing but her breastband and tight leather pants.

A suggestive smile was playing along her lips as she pulled Isabela into a close embrace. "You don't mind, do you, Beth? After all, you have a big, strong templar to look after you."

She wrapped herself around the pirate and pulled her head down for a long, hungry kiss. Bethany bit her lip, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"I'm sorry, Cullen." Without wasting another look on her sister, she turned her horse and they left.

They rode in silence, Cullen close behind her. It had gotten even hotter and stuffier than last night, and Bethany felt the sweat run down her back under her heavy robes, pooling between her breasts. The thick, blue velvet stuck to her skin. She risked a quick glance at Cullen. He must be boiling inside his armour. But his stoic face gave nothing away, even though there were pearls of sweat on his forehead and his normally golden skin was flushed pink.

The forest path offered little shade, even though they kept close to the trees. But the air was tepid and the pleasant breeze she'd enjoyed on the ride up seemed to have died down completely. When they rounded a corner and she saw a little stream cross their path, she reined in her horse with a cry of joy.

"Look, Cullen. I bet the water is nice and cold." Without waiting for his answer, she jumped out of the saddle, tying her horse loosely to a tree trunk within easy reach of the stream. The animal immediately started to drink, and she set out upstream, dimly hearing Cullen follow her through the undergrowth.

She stopped in her tracks a few paces uphill. The stream's bed had widened here, held back by a little rocky ridge, and formed a small pond, cool and inviting. Bethany didn't even think about what she was doing. Her hands shaking with impatience, she untied the long, heavy robes. She was wearing only a thin linen shift underneath, but it would have to do. Without further hesitation, she chucked the robes to the ground and waded out into the water, ignoring Cullen's shocked exclamation.

It was sheer bliss. Cool and fresh and endlessly liberating. She stretched out in the water and felt it swirl around her, so wonderfully refreshing. Her hair got loose from its bun and spread around her head in a dark cloud, and her shift clung to her body like a second skin. She closed her eyes and drifted, genuinely happy and joyful for the first time in years.

A splashing noise took her out of her reverie and she jumped to her feet, opening her eyes to see Cullen come towards her. He had taken off his armour and his padding and stripped down to his smalls. She gasped at the sight of his naked chest, wide and strong, with little rivulets of water trailing down the perfectly sculpted muscles of his arms and shoulders.

"Maker, Bethany!" His eyes were roving all over her body, and she blushed when she realized that the wet shift did nothing to hide her generous curves.

He stopped a few paces from her, holding back with a visible effort. His arousal was more than evident, yet he was clearly waiting for some sort of sign from her, some confirmation that it was alright to come closer. Bethany took a deep breath and extended her hand toward him, putting all her love and desire for him into her gaze, hoping he would understand without words.

And he did. She didn't have to ask. With a low moan, he swept her into an embrace, his whole body bristling with an incredible, pent-up intensity. His lips met hers and his hands cupped her breasts, tracing her nipples as he kissed her, deeply and passionately.

"Cullen." She threaded her fingers through his wet hair, clinging to him, rubbing her body against him shamelessly, mewling with desire when she felt his hardness against her belly. "Please don't stop."

He lifted her up without the slightest effort and carried her over to the shore, setting her down gently on the grassy slope. And then his hands and lips were everywhere, hungry and demanding, hot against her cool skin. He almost tore the shift from her in his eagerness to have her naked, to kiss and worship every inch of her body.

"Bethany." It was almost a sob, so fervent, so burning with need, and he kissed her again while he pushed her thighs apart and found her heat.

His touch was electric, making her buck up against his hand, begging for more, and he obliged, teasing, caressing, until she was whimpering helplessly, her hands tearing out fistfuls of grass. When he finally replaced his hand with his thick, throbbing cock, she met his thrust eagerly, impatient to have him inside her.

"Cullen. Maker, please, I-" She pulled him in deeper, wrapping herself around him, breathing in his scent and feverishly stroking every inch of skin she could reach.

He faltered, almost overcome by their closeness, but bit his lip and began moving, in a slow, steady pace, relentlessly grinding inside her until nothing else existed but their bodies and the lust flaring up between them, overwhelming, all-consuming, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. She lost herself there, her hands clasped around his strong neck, drowning in his warm, hazel eyes.

When he finally collapsed on top of her, spent and heavy, she held on to him, unwilling to let him go. He felt so good against her skin, as if they were made for each other.

"Cullen. Hold me." Her voice was shaky with emotion.

He nodded and rolled a little to the side, pulling her into his arms so she could nestle against him, safe and relaxed. They didn't speak, just lay there, staring into each other's eyes, and for a few precious moments they were just two people in love, out here in the quiet forest, not a mage and a Templar.

A little later, they made love again, and this time she rode him, revelling in the way his eyes devoured her body while he shuddered under her. This time she kept her eyes open, and when she came undone, his strong arms holding her tight, her lips formed the words they could never say, and he replied mutely, the haze of pleasure in his eyes momentarily chased away by a sharp spike of pain.

Afterwards, they helped each other back into their clothes. If they hurried, they would just about make it back to Kirkwall before nightfall. When they climbed into the saddle, she saw his hands shake and his gaze fly back to the road behind them. She bit her lip as she read what was so clearly visible on his face, the temptation to turn back, to run, far away from Meredith's grasp, from Kirkwall's rules and regulations. Just for a heartbeat, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like, waking up in his arms every morning, sharing her life with him.

Then she sighed and turned her horse back toward the city. Time to go.

Hugs and thanks to zevgirl!