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Defiant.Anjeru
Star
- Joined
- Dec 13, 2011
- Location
- Pacific Northwest
Notes: Each chapter is a one-shot only, based off original and gathered prompts, that all, in some way or another, involve Sebastian – breaking his vows, more often than not. I do so love to torture him. : )
Warnings: Heavy smut, 16+ at all times, drugging, blackmail, threesomes, etc.
Original Idea/Prompt: Sebastian has been drugged, somehow, some way, and Hawke helps him back to the chantry to recover. There, they discover that his inhibitions have been lowered significantly, and Sebastian proceeds to blasphemously show Hawke how he's been feeling about her since they first met.
Disclaimer: Don’t own it, don’t sell it, just obsess over it!
Torturing a Prince
Pairing: Sebastian/F!Mage!Hawke
-----------------------------------------------------------
Hawke stopped long enough to catch her breath when they reached the top of the staircase that led into Hightown, weariness seeping into her limbs even as her body supported Sebastian’s sagging one. Their group – she, he, Isabella, and Fenris – had been ambushed by a second group of lowtown thugs, some of which who were skilled enough rogues to throw off Sebastian and Isabella’s normally unbeatable skills. Near the end of the scuffle when Hawke had blasted the bastards bodies with lightning spells, one of the rogues(in a last desperate effort) chucked a vial of some odd, green bile at the Prince’s feet. It had exploded and wrapped the man in a fog of green, choking his lungs and making his head spin; Hawke was quick to reach his side to heal his injuries, but he had sagged, mumbling incoherently, so she had told the others to return to The Hanged Man while she escorted Sebastian back to his room in the Chantry.
“Hold on, Sebastian, we’re almost there,” she whispered reassuringly as she hefted his arm back over her shoulder, keeping a tight hold around his slim waist with her own. Luckily for her he seemed to keep on his feet, though he was unsteady, so his weight didn’t drop her small body to the ground. It was slow going but soon they were agonizingly making their way up the stairs into the Chantry.
“Elthina? Petrice?” Hawke called their names out, though not too terribly loud in case they were sleeping(highly likely due to the time of night, she knew). When no one answered, she sighed softly and started into the Chantry while still holding onto Sebastian. “Where am I going Sebastian?” She asked, unsure of where exactly the brothers and sisters were housed.
“Stairs to the left…my room…second room on the right…” he mumbled, slumping into her more. He turned his nose into her auburn curls, sniffing appreciatively.
“Sebastian?” Hawke stopped at the top of the stairs, her brows creasing anxiously.
“…smell heavenly…” he sighed.
“Uhm…okay, let’s get you to bed.” Hawke swallowed nervously and made her way down the hall with her friend, her steps slightly rushed due to the anxiety churning in her gut. She did her best not to stumble in her haste, but when they reached the door she had to juggle his stance; when she leaned to grab the knob and turn it, his weight fell into her just a tad too much. They toppled; Sebastian’s back hit the door and slammed it open with a resounding crack, while his arms wrapped around her to cushion the blow when they hit the ground. He mmm’d softly and didn’t release her. Her body trembled and she pushed her hands against his chest, going against the urge she had to close the mere space of inches between their lips. She hurriedly rolled herself off him and grasped him by the arm, helping the dazed man to his feet. She walked him over the bed and helped him to sit on the edge before she moved to the door, peering out to see if the ruckus had aroused anyone; satisfied the Chantry men and women remained asleep, she shut the door softly, plunging the room into darkness.
“So many nights,” Sebastian mumbled.
“What?” Hawke cast a faint fire spell over her hand, lighting the room enough to find the candles and send the dancing flames to light the wicks. The candles flickered into existence, shedding subtle light on the room they were in. She could see Sebastian, sitting where she left him, but he was watching her intently with those iridescent blue orbs that had haunted her dreams on more than one occasion – far more.
He hummed briefly, his eyes hazy; in truth, Sebastian’s head was still spinning. Everything almost felt surreal, like he could be in a dream, and if he was in a dream…he couldn’t take his eyes off her, that beautiful mage that had been haunting him since the moment she had approached him to tell him she’d slain his family’s murderers. She was close, standing across the room from him, her back pressed to the door, leafy green eyes watching him curiously. He slowly, somewhat unsteadily, pushed himself to his feet and began a slow saunter towards her. Hawke swallowed, feeling strangely like she was being hunted, like she was Sebastian’s prey – wait that was crazy, right? She shook her head. She was finally losing it, desiring him so much that she was misinterpreting his words, his actions. Sebastian had vows, vows of celibacy; there was no way that he desired her, always so cool and calm in her presence. Yet, she couldn’t deny that he felt…different.
Before she realized it, Sebastian was nose to nose with her, his hands on each side of her head. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest and, before she could even stutter his name nervously, his lips descended upon hers. She gasped with surprise and ripped her lips away, despite how her body screamed at her to just go with it.
“Sebastian! What are you doing?” She pressed her hands to his chest, but he refused to budge, his eyes smoldering and threatening to burn her alive with the desire she saw there.
“Oh lass, you don’t know how long I have desired you,” his voice was breathy and deep, his accent making her shiver.
“S-sebastian…I don’t understand…your vows…” her hands trembled on his breastplate.
He stared at her; he’d often had this dream, but in the end, she never pushed him away. How would this end any differently? His tongue ran across his lip, his head still foggy; was he dreaming? His hands slid from the door and he slid his fingers into her hair, clasping her gentle by the strands as he leaned down, stopping just shy of her lips. “Dear Hawke, every night I’ve dreamed of you, tonight is no different. Andraste guide me, to resist temptation in our day to day…” He sighed, his breath falling across her lips and making her shiver. “…but alas I cannot resist you any longer, lass. I have loved you for so long, Andraste strike me down.”
His lips fell across hers again and she moaned into his mouth, his tongue sweeping across her lips. When she gasped with pleasant surprise, he took the advantage and slid his skilled tongue in to tease her own. Though he’d been celibate for years, Sebastian had been a wild child, his skills in this department never lacking; Hawke found this out first hand as he turned his head to deepen the kiss, tongues dueling though his far outmatched her own. Her whimper of need was swallowed by him eagerly and she slid her hands up to his hair, gripping it almost tightly, making him shudder with want.
When the kiss finally broke, leaving them both panting, she dared to look into his deep ocean eyes and nearly combusted right there. She tried, very hard, one last time, to find some semblance of reasoning, knowing how he would come to regret this; he’d always been firm in his vows, never taking her inappropriate jokes to heart, or her innocent flirtations that she slipped him in hope of gaining his attentions. “Sebastian…your vows…”
“Don’t fret, lass. I want this,” he murmured against her lips, brushing them with his ever so softly. “Do you not want me, Hawke?”
“Maker help me, of course I want you, Sebastian; I always have.”
“I know,” he chuckled, a deep rumbling that made her smile and yet caused a rush of desire to shoot to her center sharply.
“What’s that supposed –“ He cut her off, crushing their lips together again. If she was going to argue, it quickly died away on a soft whimper. Just as in his dreams, she melted into his arms like she was made to be there. He held her there, easily, eagerly. Their lips melded together, almost dreamily, and he ached terribly for her. He took his hands from her hair and reached down to undo the buckles to his breastplate, all the while continuing to mesh his tongue on and around hers. He softly dropped the armor piece to the floor, grateful when it landed without any loud, jarring noise. He then removed his armor from his shoulder and arm, before aptly discarding of his gloves. Hawke’s hands took over, and slipped down to help him remove his coat, their heads angling to allow their kiss to deepen even further; next came the chainmail, all making a small stack on the floor beside them. “You have me at a disadvantage, lass,” he murmured with a smile, a chuckle, marveling at the beautiful flush that warmed her pale, freckled cheeks.
“Sebastian…this is unlike you…” she whispered wistfully on a sigh, tilting her cheek into his stroking fingers longingly.
“I am just weary of fighting my feelings.” He nuzzled his nose against cheek, before stroking it across her feather soft skin toward her hair. He sniffed appreciatively, whispering sinful words against the shell of her ear. “Do you not believe me? That I have longed for you, every night, every waking moment; to touch you, love you, to be deep inside of you where I know I belong?” He chuckled when she shuddered in his arms, his hands placing her own on his gloriously bare chest. “I thought not, lass.”
Hawke swallowed audibly, his bare chest hot beneath her hands, almost feverishly hot. Vaguely she wondered if he was sick and that was why he was behaving this way; he’d been poisoned, or drugged somehow, hadn’t he? “Sebastian…”
“Sh. It’s alright, sweetling,” he murmured against her hair, stroking his hands over her shoulders and arms, down to her hands, pressing them to his skin. “Touch me, as I’ve dreamed for so long.”
Hawke sighed softly, finally allowing herself to give into him, her hands slipping from his to graze his tanned flesh. His abdomen was more rigid that she had pictured, chiseled to perfection; all those days training as an archer, a skilled and adept rogue, had done wonders for his body, to which she was happy to admire. He touched her curls with his hand, bringing one to his nose as she caressed him. Her heavenly touch made him shiver, fingers sliding down toward his hips, stroking every inch of skin he’d bared for her. She hit the cool steel of his buckle and she deftly began to undo it, the belt then falling to join the pile of discarded clothes. He stopped her then, taking hold of her hands and backpedaling toward his bed; he turned them when the backs of his shins touched, laying her upon the modest furniture. She looked glorious, laying there on his bed, her fiery curls a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin and the whiteness of his bedspread.
“My turn, lass,” he whispered, kissing her again, teasingly, lightly, tiny promises of things to come. His fingers were quicker, more skilled, than hers; briefly she recalled when he’d confided in her of his wild adolescence. If was a fleeting thought, one that was lost when he parted the front of her robe, revealing the swell of her ample, pale breasts. He made a noise, a half groan, half moan, before he dipped his head down to drag his tongue along the swell of one, then the other. His hands cupped her breasts through the material, plucking at her stiffening nipples, making her arch and bite her lip from the tingles of pleasure dancing along her nerves.
He dipped his hand inside and finished releasing the ties and laces of her robes, opening them completely and slipping her from them so that she lay upon them in her smalls and nothing else. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her body in the faint light, her waist small and tucked, limbs long and lithe. He shuddered and sat back, turning enough to remove his shin and knee guards, then his boots, all of which landed with a thunk on the floor in his haste; last came his socks, leaving him in only his brown breeches. When he turned back to her, he found her turned away from him, her face in her hands; this came him an ample view of her supple rear which looked lovely enough to smack, the thought causing him to grow even more aroused.
“Is something the matter, sweetling?” He murmured as he came to lay just behind her, spooning her small body and pulling her back against him with a strong arm. She shivered and made a noise, her lip being abused by her teeth as she bit her lip sharply.
“I just fear this is all a dream, or that you will regret this once it’s all finished; I cannot bear to lose you, Sebastian, even as a friend,” she whispered on a sigh.
“You will not lose me, love, I promise.” He kissed the shell of her ear, tracing it with the tip of his tongue, nibbling upon the lobe with his teeth, and letting his breath fall on it coolly. She moaned and squirmed back into his body, her lovely behind pressing against his stiff cock, which in turn made him moan just as she had.
Hawke blushed hotly, grateful he could not see her face, when she realized what it was exactly that was pressing against her; his erection made her feel all woman, wanton, like she was beautiful, that she could be capable of making the Prince of Starkhaven feel this way for her. Feeling brave, she wiggled her bottom against him and he made a strangled noise of appreciation, his hands coming untie her breast band. He pulled it from her and leant up, rolling her beneath him onto her back, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. His hands cupped them, tweaked her cheery pink nipples, and his lips soon followed, turning her into a puddle of desire. Her head fell back when she moaned, her thighs rubbing together as the pleasure and tension increased in her cunny, making her wet and impossibly warm from the ache she felt for him.
As he lavished her breasts with his tongue, mouth, and teeth – occasionally tugging at a nipple or sharply biting it – he trailed his hands down her sides slowly, grasping the sides of her smalls on her hips. He pulled them off her trembling legs and tossed them aside. His lips trailed from her breasts, down her stomach; she stopped him anxiously when he reached the top of her pelvis, her hands tugging on his hair.
“Sebastian?” There was a question in her tone, as if she thought what he was about to do indecent, or unheard of; the thought made him balk – anyone who had been lucky enough to be with a woman like Hawke would have been daft not to please her in every way possible.
“Hush, sweetling,” he encouraged, smiling when her grip in his hair lessened, showing that she trusted him. He slid down further, opening her thighs for him as he dipped his head, his hands sliding up to her center when she was already so wet for him. He stroked her gently with his fingers, first her lips and then her clit, enjoying the way she shuddered and trembled under him. A single digit found home in her tight channel, his lips pressing to her nub; he began to thrust his finger in her gently, touching his tongue to her clit, stroking it, circling it, groaning with appreciation when it swelled with her desire. He added a second finger making her moan loudly, her hips arching into his ministrations as he went about pleasing her orally.
“Sebastian!” She gasped his name, shuddering as goose bumps rippled along her flesh and her nipples stiffened into tight peaks. Her vaginal walls tightened around his fingers and he thrust them faster in response, harder, his tongue working magic on her center of pleasure. A whimper, a moan, gasps; every noise of pleasure came from her as he built her higher and higher, before he tossed her off the cliff into the rippling, crashing waves of her climax. Her body bowed, her juices coating his fingers as he continued, letting her ride her orgasm to the trembling aftershocks. He found her taste intoxicating, loving every bit of her he was able to touch and taste. As she came down from her high, he lifted himself up from her and undid the lacing of his breeches, slowly pulling them down until he was only in his smalls.
When he glanced up at her face, he found that her eyes were locked on his hardened cock where it strained painfully against the restraints of his smalls. She looked, well, almost impressed, as if his size was something that she hadn’t expected. While she was so intent on staring, he slid out of the smalls, allowing his thick and very hard erection to spring free, all eight inches of him; he hadn’t seen many cocks, in reality, and neither had she, but he was indeed on the larger side which made the mage a little weary considering her small size. He smiled and crawled up over her, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue, something she found strangely arousing. His hands caressed her breasts again, his thigh now rubbing against her sensitive slit and nub, making her squirm under him. When he was satisfied she was more than ready for him, he set his hips in the cradle of her thighs, pulling her legs astride him as the head of his cock touched her cunny lips, rubbing, tracing, teasing ever so softly. Hawke shuddered and her thighs tightened on his hips; suddenly she could take no more and gripped his hair tightly, slamming her lips against his and devouring him. When she broke free from the kiss, she gasped, “now, Sebastian, inside me.”
He groaned and did as she said, sliding his cock into her excruciatingly hot and unbelievably wet channel. Her walls gripped him so tightly as he hilted himself in her sheath, both shuddering and moaning into a heated kiss. He started slowly, her hands holding onto his shoulders as he thrust himself within her, exploring, enjoying, and reveling. He filled her so wonderfully, and she managed to take all of him, her legs now wrapped around his waist and hips arching into his own. His thrusts became harder, and she made no objection, her moans increasing in frequency, her nails scoring his back.
Sebastian’s hands slipped from her hips to her ass, gripping it tightly as he began to almost pound inside of her, the sound of flesh hitting flesh hitting their ears amongst sounds of pleasure. He pushed her over the edge, moaning as he watched that expression of pure joy and ecstasy cross her beautiful features. Her walls clamped on him like a vice and he shuddered, continuing his thrusts through the exquisite feeling. Growling, he took her hands and pinned them above her head, slamming himself into her so hard he vaguely worried he may bruise her, but she made no objections, her cunny flooding him with appreciative warmth. Before long he couldn’t hold it back and found himself throwing his head back as his seed exploded inside of her, filling her with his essence to the brim.
He collapsed on top of her and released her wrists, stroking his fingers through her damp auburn curls. His lips found hers, gently, little pecks of affection; strangely the lightheadedness had passed and he felt more like this was reality and bathed in its impossible perfection. He pulled from her and laid on his side, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling his nose in her hair.
“Ah, perfection, pure perfection,” he mumbled, sighing, “I love you, Hawke.”
She giggled and nuzzled her nose against his neck, her arms tight around his waist as he held her. “I love you, Sebastian.”
They bathed in the afterglow, but little did they know that some of the slumbering sisters had awoken and summoned Elthina to discover what exactly had been going on behind the closed doors of Brother Sebastian’s room; The Grand Cleric had heard nearly everything and walked away from the door without disturbing them, a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips.
Warnings: Heavy smut, 16+ at all times, drugging, blackmail, threesomes, etc.
Original Idea/Prompt: Sebastian has been drugged, somehow, some way, and Hawke helps him back to the chantry to recover. There, they discover that his inhibitions have been lowered significantly, and Sebastian proceeds to blasphemously show Hawke how he's been feeling about her since they first met.
Disclaimer: Don’t own it, don’t sell it, just obsess over it!
Torturing a Prince
Pairing: Sebastian/F!Mage!Hawke
-----------------------------------------------------------
Hawke stopped long enough to catch her breath when they reached the top of the staircase that led into Hightown, weariness seeping into her limbs even as her body supported Sebastian’s sagging one. Their group – she, he, Isabella, and Fenris – had been ambushed by a second group of lowtown thugs, some of which who were skilled enough rogues to throw off Sebastian and Isabella’s normally unbeatable skills. Near the end of the scuffle when Hawke had blasted the bastards bodies with lightning spells, one of the rogues(in a last desperate effort) chucked a vial of some odd, green bile at the Prince’s feet. It had exploded and wrapped the man in a fog of green, choking his lungs and making his head spin; Hawke was quick to reach his side to heal his injuries, but he had sagged, mumbling incoherently, so she had told the others to return to The Hanged Man while she escorted Sebastian back to his room in the Chantry.
“Hold on, Sebastian, we’re almost there,” she whispered reassuringly as she hefted his arm back over her shoulder, keeping a tight hold around his slim waist with her own. Luckily for her he seemed to keep on his feet, though he was unsteady, so his weight didn’t drop her small body to the ground. It was slow going but soon they were agonizingly making their way up the stairs into the Chantry.
“Elthina? Petrice?” Hawke called their names out, though not too terribly loud in case they were sleeping(highly likely due to the time of night, she knew). When no one answered, she sighed softly and started into the Chantry while still holding onto Sebastian. “Where am I going Sebastian?” She asked, unsure of where exactly the brothers and sisters were housed.
“Stairs to the left…my room…second room on the right…” he mumbled, slumping into her more. He turned his nose into her auburn curls, sniffing appreciatively.
“Sebastian?” Hawke stopped at the top of the stairs, her brows creasing anxiously.
“…smell heavenly…” he sighed.
“Uhm…okay, let’s get you to bed.” Hawke swallowed nervously and made her way down the hall with her friend, her steps slightly rushed due to the anxiety churning in her gut. She did her best not to stumble in her haste, but when they reached the door she had to juggle his stance; when she leaned to grab the knob and turn it, his weight fell into her just a tad too much. They toppled; Sebastian’s back hit the door and slammed it open with a resounding crack, while his arms wrapped around her to cushion the blow when they hit the ground. He mmm’d softly and didn’t release her. Her body trembled and she pushed her hands against his chest, going against the urge she had to close the mere space of inches between their lips. She hurriedly rolled herself off him and grasped him by the arm, helping the dazed man to his feet. She walked him over the bed and helped him to sit on the edge before she moved to the door, peering out to see if the ruckus had aroused anyone; satisfied the Chantry men and women remained asleep, she shut the door softly, plunging the room into darkness.
“So many nights,” Sebastian mumbled.
“What?” Hawke cast a faint fire spell over her hand, lighting the room enough to find the candles and send the dancing flames to light the wicks. The candles flickered into existence, shedding subtle light on the room they were in. She could see Sebastian, sitting where she left him, but he was watching her intently with those iridescent blue orbs that had haunted her dreams on more than one occasion – far more.
He hummed briefly, his eyes hazy; in truth, Sebastian’s head was still spinning. Everything almost felt surreal, like he could be in a dream, and if he was in a dream…he couldn’t take his eyes off her, that beautiful mage that had been haunting him since the moment she had approached him to tell him she’d slain his family’s murderers. She was close, standing across the room from him, her back pressed to the door, leafy green eyes watching him curiously. He slowly, somewhat unsteadily, pushed himself to his feet and began a slow saunter towards her. Hawke swallowed, feeling strangely like she was being hunted, like she was Sebastian’s prey – wait that was crazy, right? She shook her head. She was finally losing it, desiring him so much that she was misinterpreting his words, his actions. Sebastian had vows, vows of celibacy; there was no way that he desired her, always so cool and calm in her presence. Yet, she couldn’t deny that he felt…different.
Before she realized it, Sebastian was nose to nose with her, his hands on each side of her head. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest and, before she could even stutter his name nervously, his lips descended upon hers. She gasped with surprise and ripped her lips away, despite how her body screamed at her to just go with it.
“Sebastian! What are you doing?” She pressed her hands to his chest, but he refused to budge, his eyes smoldering and threatening to burn her alive with the desire she saw there.
“Oh lass, you don’t know how long I have desired you,” his voice was breathy and deep, his accent making her shiver.
“S-sebastian…I don’t understand…your vows…” her hands trembled on his breastplate.
He stared at her; he’d often had this dream, but in the end, she never pushed him away. How would this end any differently? His tongue ran across his lip, his head still foggy; was he dreaming? His hands slid from the door and he slid his fingers into her hair, clasping her gentle by the strands as he leaned down, stopping just shy of her lips. “Dear Hawke, every night I’ve dreamed of you, tonight is no different. Andraste guide me, to resist temptation in our day to day…” He sighed, his breath falling across her lips and making her shiver. “…but alas I cannot resist you any longer, lass. I have loved you for so long, Andraste strike me down.”
His lips fell across hers again and she moaned into his mouth, his tongue sweeping across her lips. When she gasped with pleasant surprise, he took the advantage and slid his skilled tongue in to tease her own. Though he’d been celibate for years, Sebastian had been a wild child, his skills in this department never lacking; Hawke found this out first hand as he turned his head to deepen the kiss, tongues dueling though his far outmatched her own. Her whimper of need was swallowed by him eagerly and she slid her hands up to his hair, gripping it almost tightly, making him shudder with want.
When the kiss finally broke, leaving them both panting, she dared to look into his deep ocean eyes and nearly combusted right there. She tried, very hard, one last time, to find some semblance of reasoning, knowing how he would come to regret this; he’d always been firm in his vows, never taking her inappropriate jokes to heart, or her innocent flirtations that she slipped him in hope of gaining his attentions. “Sebastian…your vows…”
“Don’t fret, lass. I want this,” he murmured against her lips, brushing them with his ever so softly. “Do you not want me, Hawke?”
“Maker help me, of course I want you, Sebastian; I always have.”
“I know,” he chuckled, a deep rumbling that made her smile and yet caused a rush of desire to shoot to her center sharply.
“What’s that supposed –“ He cut her off, crushing their lips together again. If she was going to argue, it quickly died away on a soft whimper. Just as in his dreams, she melted into his arms like she was made to be there. He held her there, easily, eagerly. Their lips melded together, almost dreamily, and he ached terribly for her. He took his hands from her hair and reached down to undo the buckles to his breastplate, all the while continuing to mesh his tongue on and around hers. He softly dropped the armor piece to the floor, grateful when it landed without any loud, jarring noise. He then removed his armor from his shoulder and arm, before aptly discarding of his gloves. Hawke’s hands took over, and slipped down to help him remove his coat, their heads angling to allow their kiss to deepen even further; next came the chainmail, all making a small stack on the floor beside them. “You have me at a disadvantage, lass,” he murmured with a smile, a chuckle, marveling at the beautiful flush that warmed her pale, freckled cheeks.
“Sebastian…this is unlike you…” she whispered wistfully on a sigh, tilting her cheek into his stroking fingers longingly.
“I am just weary of fighting my feelings.” He nuzzled his nose against cheek, before stroking it across her feather soft skin toward her hair. He sniffed appreciatively, whispering sinful words against the shell of her ear. “Do you not believe me? That I have longed for you, every night, every waking moment; to touch you, love you, to be deep inside of you where I know I belong?” He chuckled when she shuddered in his arms, his hands placing her own on his gloriously bare chest. “I thought not, lass.”
Hawke swallowed audibly, his bare chest hot beneath her hands, almost feverishly hot. Vaguely she wondered if he was sick and that was why he was behaving this way; he’d been poisoned, or drugged somehow, hadn’t he? “Sebastian…”
“Sh. It’s alright, sweetling,” he murmured against her hair, stroking his hands over her shoulders and arms, down to her hands, pressing them to his skin. “Touch me, as I’ve dreamed for so long.”
Hawke sighed softly, finally allowing herself to give into him, her hands slipping from his to graze his tanned flesh. His abdomen was more rigid that she had pictured, chiseled to perfection; all those days training as an archer, a skilled and adept rogue, had done wonders for his body, to which she was happy to admire. He touched her curls with his hand, bringing one to his nose as she caressed him. Her heavenly touch made him shiver, fingers sliding down toward his hips, stroking every inch of skin he’d bared for her. She hit the cool steel of his buckle and she deftly began to undo it, the belt then falling to join the pile of discarded clothes. He stopped her then, taking hold of her hands and backpedaling toward his bed; he turned them when the backs of his shins touched, laying her upon the modest furniture. She looked glorious, laying there on his bed, her fiery curls a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin and the whiteness of his bedspread.
“My turn, lass,” he whispered, kissing her again, teasingly, lightly, tiny promises of things to come. His fingers were quicker, more skilled, than hers; briefly she recalled when he’d confided in her of his wild adolescence. If was a fleeting thought, one that was lost when he parted the front of her robe, revealing the swell of her ample, pale breasts. He made a noise, a half groan, half moan, before he dipped his head down to drag his tongue along the swell of one, then the other. His hands cupped her breasts through the material, plucking at her stiffening nipples, making her arch and bite her lip from the tingles of pleasure dancing along her nerves.
He dipped his hand inside and finished releasing the ties and laces of her robes, opening them completely and slipping her from them so that she lay upon them in her smalls and nothing else. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her body in the faint light, her waist small and tucked, limbs long and lithe. He shuddered and sat back, turning enough to remove his shin and knee guards, then his boots, all of which landed with a thunk on the floor in his haste; last came his socks, leaving him in only his brown breeches. When he turned back to her, he found her turned away from him, her face in her hands; this came him an ample view of her supple rear which looked lovely enough to smack, the thought causing him to grow even more aroused.
“Is something the matter, sweetling?” He murmured as he came to lay just behind her, spooning her small body and pulling her back against him with a strong arm. She shivered and made a noise, her lip being abused by her teeth as she bit her lip sharply.
“I just fear this is all a dream, or that you will regret this once it’s all finished; I cannot bear to lose you, Sebastian, even as a friend,” she whispered on a sigh.
“You will not lose me, love, I promise.” He kissed the shell of her ear, tracing it with the tip of his tongue, nibbling upon the lobe with his teeth, and letting his breath fall on it coolly. She moaned and squirmed back into his body, her lovely behind pressing against his stiff cock, which in turn made him moan just as she had.
Hawke blushed hotly, grateful he could not see her face, when she realized what it was exactly that was pressing against her; his erection made her feel all woman, wanton, like she was beautiful, that she could be capable of making the Prince of Starkhaven feel this way for her. Feeling brave, she wiggled her bottom against him and he made a strangled noise of appreciation, his hands coming untie her breast band. He pulled it from her and leant up, rolling her beneath him onto her back, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. His hands cupped them, tweaked her cheery pink nipples, and his lips soon followed, turning her into a puddle of desire. Her head fell back when she moaned, her thighs rubbing together as the pleasure and tension increased in her cunny, making her wet and impossibly warm from the ache she felt for him.
As he lavished her breasts with his tongue, mouth, and teeth – occasionally tugging at a nipple or sharply biting it – he trailed his hands down her sides slowly, grasping the sides of her smalls on her hips. He pulled them off her trembling legs and tossed them aside. His lips trailed from her breasts, down her stomach; she stopped him anxiously when he reached the top of her pelvis, her hands tugging on his hair.
“Sebastian?” There was a question in her tone, as if she thought what he was about to do indecent, or unheard of; the thought made him balk – anyone who had been lucky enough to be with a woman like Hawke would have been daft not to please her in every way possible.
“Hush, sweetling,” he encouraged, smiling when her grip in his hair lessened, showing that she trusted him. He slid down further, opening her thighs for him as he dipped his head, his hands sliding up to her center when she was already so wet for him. He stroked her gently with his fingers, first her lips and then her clit, enjoying the way she shuddered and trembled under him. A single digit found home in her tight channel, his lips pressing to her nub; he began to thrust his finger in her gently, touching his tongue to her clit, stroking it, circling it, groaning with appreciation when it swelled with her desire. He added a second finger making her moan loudly, her hips arching into his ministrations as he went about pleasing her orally.
“Sebastian!” She gasped his name, shuddering as goose bumps rippled along her flesh and her nipples stiffened into tight peaks. Her vaginal walls tightened around his fingers and he thrust them faster in response, harder, his tongue working magic on her center of pleasure. A whimper, a moan, gasps; every noise of pleasure came from her as he built her higher and higher, before he tossed her off the cliff into the rippling, crashing waves of her climax. Her body bowed, her juices coating his fingers as he continued, letting her ride her orgasm to the trembling aftershocks. He found her taste intoxicating, loving every bit of her he was able to touch and taste. As she came down from her high, he lifted himself up from her and undid the lacing of his breeches, slowly pulling them down until he was only in his smalls.
When he glanced up at her face, he found that her eyes were locked on his hardened cock where it strained painfully against the restraints of his smalls. She looked, well, almost impressed, as if his size was something that she hadn’t expected. While she was so intent on staring, he slid out of the smalls, allowing his thick and very hard erection to spring free, all eight inches of him; he hadn’t seen many cocks, in reality, and neither had she, but he was indeed on the larger side which made the mage a little weary considering her small size. He smiled and crawled up over her, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue, something she found strangely arousing. His hands caressed her breasts again, his thigh now rubbing against her sensitive slit and nub, making her squirm under him. When he was satisfied she was more than ready for him, he set his hips in the cradle of her thighs, pulling her legs astride him as the head of his cock touched her cunny lips, rubbing, tracing, teasing ever so softly. Hawke shuddered and her thighs tightened on his hips; suddenly she could take no more and gripped his hair tightly, slamming her lips against his and devouring him. When she broke free from the kiss, she gasped, “now, Sebastian, inside me.”
He groaned and did as she said, sliding his cock into her excruciatingly hot and unbelievably wet channel. Her walls gripped him so tightly as he hilted himself in her sheath, both shuddering and moaning into a heated kiss. He started slowly, her hands holding onto his shoulders as he thrust himself within her, exploring, enjoying, and reveling. He filled her so wonderfully, and she managed to take all of him, her legs now wrapped around his waist and hips arching into his own. His thrusts became harder, and she made no objection, her moans increasing in frequency, her nails scoring his back.
Sebastian’s hands slipped from her hips to her ass, gripping it tightly as he began to almost pound inside of her, the sound of flesh hitting flesh hitting their ears amongst sounds of pleasure. He pushed her over the edge, moaning as he watched that expression of pure joy and ecstasy cross her beautiful features. Her walls clamped on him like a vice and he shuddered, continuing his thrusts through the exquisite feeling. Growling, he took her hands and pinned them above her head, slamming himself into her so hard he vaguely worried he may bruise her, but she made no objections, her cunny flooding him with appreciative warmth. Before long he couldn’t hold it back and found himself throwing his head back as his seed exploded inside of her, filling her with his essence to the brim.
He collapsed on top of her and released her wrists, stroking his fingers through her damp auburn curls. His lips found hers, gently, little pecks of affection; strangely the lightheadedness had passed and he felt more like this was reality and bathed in its impossible perfection. He pulled from her and laid on his side, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling his nose in her hair.
“Ah, perfection, pure perfection,” he mumbled, sighing, “I love you, Hawke.”
She giggled and nuzzled her nose against his neck, her arms tight around his waist as he held her. “I love you, Sebastian.”
They bathed in the afterglow, but little did they know that some of the slumbering sisters had awoken and summoned Elthina to discover what exactly had been going on behind the closed doors of Brother Sebastian’s room; The Grand Cleric had heard nearly everything and walked away from the door without disturbing them, a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips.