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"My lady."
Ariadne looks up from the paperwork strewn haphazardly across her small desk to see a heavily bearded figure in the doorway to her room, his hands clasped behind his back and back ramrod straight.
"I've told you several times before, Blackwall. Call me Ariadne," she says. "I'm hardly fit to be a lady."
Blackwall lets a low chuckle escape his lips. "I apologize for my error, Ariadne. I don't believe that I'll ever get used to calling you anything but."
Ariadne rolls her eyes good-naturedly and she gets up from her seat, joints popping as she stretches her arms above her head. She narrows her eyes at Blackwall, who still hasn't moved from his spot.
"You always have the most impeccable manners," she teases. Her index finger curls into a "come hither" motion. "You may come in."
He bends slightly at the waist into a bow and she notices his eyes raking over her lithe form, lingering at the swell of her breasts peeking out of the top of her night robe before making their way to her face.
"Perhaps not so polite," she purrs, warmth already beginning to pool in her lower stomach at the barely concealed hunger in his gaze. She sits down on the edge of the large bed and flips her dark hair over her shoulder. As she has expected, he hones in on the bare skin of her shoulder.
"You have a message," Blackwall says, still in the same position as before, if not a bit stiffer.
Ariadne sighs. "What could possibly be so important at this hour?" She crosses her legs, baring the bronzed skin of her thighs, and folds her hands in her lap.
"The spymaster Leliana wishes to speak with you about your journey to Redcliffe to speak with the mages.” Blackwall says, voice unsteady as more and more skin is unveiled. He shifts uneasily as she hides a satisfied smile behind a purse of her lips. Men, so easy to unravel.
She gets up gracefully from her seat and sweeps over to the door where she knows her one guard is standing dutifully outside. "Bran, please tell Leliana that this can wait until the morning. I have more important things to worry about." She chances a glance back at where Blackwall is still standing.
Bran nods and walks off, the echo of his boots growing fainter until she can hear them no more.
She closes the door and with a flick of her wrist, locks it. She whirls around and puts her hands on her hips, playful suspicion in her eyes. “Now, why is it that Leliana told you, of all the people in Haven, to come and relay her message to me?”
“Ah, well,” Blackwall says, his composure breaking as he rubs the back of his neck, a blush rising in his cheeks. “I may have been fibbing.” Ariadne remains silent and she sees the corner of his mouth twitching. Ariadne smiles sweetly at him and crosses the room, swaying her hips, and sits down on the edge of her bed.
“Come, sit with me,” she gestures with a wave of her hand. Blackwall obeys and he takes long strides to her, eventually taking a seat next to her. Without hesitation, she reaches over and grasps his hand, curling her fingers around his larger ones.
“Our poor, sweet Leliana is going to be rather confused when Bran goes to let her know my response to her apparent request, don’t you think?” Ariadne says, meeting Blackwall’s eyes. Blackwall chuckles, his calloused thumb caressing hers.
I will have to speak with Leliana later, I suppose, she thinks, giggling inwardly. What a conversation that will be.
“I’ve actually been thinking on your words earlier this week,” Blackwall murmurs. “On your invitation. I believe the words you used were ‘there’s more to offer in my quarters’.”
“Well, I have been rather chilly, all alone in this cabin,” she says, the hand not currently within Blackwall’s own creeping up from her lap to rest on Blackwall’s chest.
“I thought that we could perhaps warm each other up?” She looks up at him from under her eyelashes, fade-colored eyes sparkling with mirth. Blackwall takes in a sharp breath at her words and she watches as his eyes glance at her mouth.
“That would be adequate.” Blackwall’s voice has dropped an octave and she shudders.
“Good. I thought you would agree.” She throws a leg over him and shifts until she is straddling his lap. She feels his large, gloved hands settling on her waist and she gives an experimental roll of her hips, grinning as his lips part in a groan.
Ariadne leans forward and captures her lips with his, massaging them until she can suck his bottom lip into her mouth, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. She swipes a gentle tongue over the area and she feels as his hands move from her waist to her bottom, cupping and kneading it. She moans into his mouth as he brings their cores together in a sweet grind, her cunt pulsing as it is pressed against his erection.
She lets out a whimper, the fingers of one of her hands winding themselves into Blackwall’s hair. They break apart, panting harshly, and stare into each other’s eyes. She knows she looks completely debauched, what with her breasts about to pop out of her robe, her mouth swollen with kisses, and the telltale flush of arousal covering her skin, but the way that Blackwall is watching her makes her care nothing for her appearance.
“Maker’s balls, Ari.” She giggles at his curse and his groaned out words travel right down to her clit. She rubs herself against him, riding the bulge of his breeches and in response, he squeezes her ass. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.” Ariadne gives him a kiss on the tip of his nose before she leans back and begins to untie the front of her robe. She feels his fingers twitch from their place on her bottom as she finally opens it up, unveiling her naked breasts and torso to his eyes.
Her nipples tighten the longer he gazes at them and she moves in his lap, knowing that her wetness has most likely soaked his breeches by now.
“How long are you going to stare?” She throws her robe aside and her fingers reach up to tease at a pert nipple, her stomach tightening at the sensation. “They aren’t going to touch themselves.”
Something about her being completely naked and Blackwall clothed has her core pulsing with need and she swallows hard as he brings his hands from her bottom to cup her full breasts within his palms. Her fingers scrabble for purchase and she makes contact with his shoulders as he leans up to lave his tongue over her breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth while his other hand plucks at the other.
She lets out a long, drawn out moan and she feels Blackwall chuckle against her breast. Her eyes widen and she claps a hand to her mouth, embarrassed.
“I didn’t mean for that to be so loud,” she laughs, letting her head fall forward so her forehead is pressed against Blackwall’s. Their breaths mingle together as he leans up to kiss her.
“May as well let everyone know what is exactly going on in your cabin, my lady,” Blackwall says as he breaks away from her.
She rolls her eyes and swats at his shoulder. “I suppose you’re right, but let’s make this a little more fun for them, shall we?”
She nibbles at her bottom lip as she places her hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound wildly underneath her palm. She gently pushes him until he is flat on the bed and then she is moving forward slowly, her knees eventually settling on either side of his head and her cunt right above his lips.
“Now I want you to make me scream.”
The first flick of his tongue against her folds has Ariadne spitting out curses as she clutches at Blackwall’s hair with white-knuckled fingers. She tugs hard at his locks and he grunts underneath her, the flat of his tongue licking a stripe across her clit. She sobs out his name, high and loud with abandon.
She’s rolling her hips harder and faster now, desperately trying to get Blackwall’s tongue further inside her. One of his hands is splayed across her abdomen while the index finger and thumb of his other hand are rolling her nub in between them. Her breaths are coming in harsh gasps and sighs as she seeks her release that is creeping up on her, coiling in her lower belly.
“Blackwall, please,” she pleads, voice cracking as she throws her head back. Blackwall grins widely against her cunt.
“Sensitive are we?” she hears him say, voice muffled, and with a final graze of his tongue, she’s finally cresting, screaming his name as the pleasure radiates throughout her body in waves, spinning into blissful oblivion.
Her limbs are still shaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm as Blackwall laps up her juices and continues to lick at her until she is unable to take anymore, clit pulsing before she’s sliding off him and back down to his lap where she rests comfortably on top of him, her face hovering above his. His face is covered with her wetness and she kisses him, tasting herself on him and feeling a fresh flood of arousal wash over her.
She feels his hardness against her sore core and she shifts a bit, watching Blackwall’s features contort into a grimace.
She moves from his mouth to the side of his neck where she begins to place soft, open-mouthed kisses against his skin. “Do you want me to take care of that?” she murmurs into his ear.
“Please do,” Blackwall rasps, his voice rough.
She smiles wickedly at him as she quickly slides off him to the side and begins to pull at the armor covering his torso, quickly undoing the clasps at his shoulders and yanking it off to reveal a white undershirt, slick with sweat.
“Why didn’t you take the armor off if it’s so hot?” she laughs, gesturing for him to lift his arms up so she can lift the shirt up and over his head.
“Didn’t get the chance to,” he says simply. She narrows her eyes at him and then shrugs. She gazes at the broad expanse of the upper half of his body, noting the thick thatch of black hair covering it. She runs her fingers through it, marveling at the slightly rough texture of it, until she finds a nipple, giving it a twist. Blackwall’s hips twitch up as a small groan leaves his lips.
She presses a hand down on his lower stomach to keep his hips from thrusting up as she teases at the other nipple, pinching it in between her fingers.
“Woman, you will be the death of me,” Blackwall growls.
The hand on his stomach lowers down to cover his bulge and she wraps it around his length, squeezing it through his breeches. Blackwall stiffens and she feels it jerk within her grasp.
With deft fingers, she quickly unties the front of his breeches and takes his erection in her hand and gives it a few experimental pumps. Blackwall’s head thumps against the pillows as he lets it fall back. She’s carefully gauging his reactions to the way her hand moves on his cock – moans puff out from between his clenched teeth when she strokes him slowly and when it’s with a firmer grip at a faster pace, his hands clench in the sheets of her bed and his mouth drops open, silent gasps coming through.
She eyes his cock, watching as drop after drop of precome beads at the tip. She grazes her tongue over the head to see what he tastes like and Blackwall’s hand flies up to the back of her neck, his fingers curling around it in a vice grip. She swirls her tongue around the tip, paying special attention to the slit, and she feels pressure from him pushing her further down his cock. She takes her mouth off his length and waggles a playful finger at him as he gapes at her.
“Tsk tsk, we can’t be having that now,” Ariadne teases, placing her hand back on his cock, stroking it slowly. There is a sheen of sweat covering Blackwall’s forehead and a flush has worked his way from his cheeks to his chest.
“Ari, this is agonizing. Please,” Blackwall says through clenched teeth. “Do something.”
She smirks at him and obliges, picking up speed until her hand is a blur of motion. Blackwall moans, a broken string of her name and curses streaming from his lips. She watches as his abdominal muscles clench and then she’s feeling warm liquid spilling over her fingers.
She listens as Blackwall’s harsh pants fade into deep breaths before finally taking her hand off his cock. As she makes eye contact with him, she lifts her hand up to suck each digit into her mouth, washing them free of his come.
“You’re an absolute minx,” Blackwall rasps, falling back against the pillows. She giggles and cuddles up to him, settling into the crook of his arm as he wraps it around her shoulders.
“An absolutely delightful minx,” she corrects, tapping his nose with a fingertip.
Blackwall presses a kiss to the top of her head. “That you are, Ariadne. That you are.”