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It had been about two weeks since the Winter Palace, and what now felt more like a dream. The Inquisitor have somehow become even more busy than before, which she hadn't deemed possible; from the sun rises till it sets, she was on the go, in a never ending stressful effort to save, well, everyone. Overloaded and slaving constantly to live up to others expectations. She hadn't had time to give Krem any more attention than a single glance at a few occasions where they'd be passing by one another. Lustful eyes meeting had only grown hungrier than before Halamshiral.
And it had been equally frustrating for him. The days seemed longer somehow, and even if he spends most of the time with the Chargers, he felt oddly lonely and empty now and again. He understood why, and every time the Inquisitor came back from wherever she had gone, he'd hurry to stand in the courtyard, acting nonchalant, just to catch a short glimpse of all her beauty and power. And she would always look around for him, whilst rushing off to her next meeting, the next fight, her next obligation.
Krem had attempted to relieve some of the tension by himself, but every time he would try to touch himself, the dysphoria became painfully strong within him. He just couldn't get the release he wanted, and it was... fine. He just wanted to be with her.
The tavern was as lively tonight as any other; the Inquisitions soldiers drinking to forget once more, to sleep better at night. Krem had honestly been indulging a bit more than normal as of late, to get through the tightness he felt for the elven woman whom remained too busy, and seeing her every day without being able to do anything but only saddened him further.
But tonight, he had probably gotten a bit too much inboard, and decided to stop waiting for her to come to him.
“Krem! Krem de la krem! Where are you going?” Iron Bull slurs with the largest jug in hand the tavern could provide.
“I'm... I'm gonna go for a walk. G-get some fresh air,” Krem answers with surprising accuracy, or so he thinks.
“Don't... don't stay out too long! Or there wont be any more left for you!” The Bull shouts then turns to demand more! More! More!
The door to the tavern closes behind him, to keep the cold out and the noise in. He instantly feels invigorated as the chill of the mountain air pinch his flustered skin. A deep breath fills his lungs and clears his mind a bit, as he stands as straight as he can manage in his buzzed state.
A couple of guards greet him as he passes them by at the entrance to the main hall. Everything is weirdly quiet up here, only the necessary fires are quietly dancing, to keep the fortress warm and the halls lit well enough.
It takes Krem trying several doors before he finds the one for the Inquisitors quarters.
Lavellan sits by a desk in her quarters, starring irritated at the numerous papers she has to peruse. Cullen had left a large stack, Josephine one three times the size of that, and Leliana had left nothing, thankfully.
The moment she hears steps coming up her stairs, she groans. “Go to bed, Cullen! I'm working on the papers you so generously threw onto my desk earlier.”
“Maybe you should take a break, your worship.” Krem reaches the top of the stairs and leans against the railing.
She looks up instantly at his voice, and an excited gleam flashes in her eyes. She smiles, clearly tired and exhausted from everything. “Oh, it's you. What can I help you with?”
“Looks more like you're the one in need of help. Want me to rescue you from the monstrous duties of paperwork?” Krem grins widely and manages to take a few confident steps forward, until he drunkenly stumbles a bit.
“Are you drunk?” she laughs at his fumbling movements as he reaches the desk.
“Not much else to do, you take care of everything yourself and leave very little to us.” He speaks with his usually charming tone, which is impressive considering how his breath stinks of alcohol. He rests with his hands on the table. “You know, I'm the one that convinced Bull to reach out to the Inquisition.”
“Oh?” Lavellan's eyes slowly go up his muscular arms, his broad shoulders, to his handsome face. She suddenly remembers last they spoke very vividly, and it stirs something low in her body.
“Oh yes, I wanted to see the big hero, blessed by Andraste herself. I wanted to... to come stand by your side and fight the good fight, rather than just being mercenaries.” He walks around the desk to lean against the side where the Inquisitor is seated.
She looks up at him with adoring eyes, wanting to rush to meet his skin, but no, she have to be at least somewhat proper, right? “Do I live up to the tales that gossip have weaved together?”
He leans down close to her, and even with the alcohol stained breath, she takes a deep breath and moves in, too. “You exceed it by far, your excellency.”
His always honeyed words thrill her, and she stands up a bit faster than she intended to, as she fights to keep a professional but also alluring composure. She has to lift herself up a bit to gently reach his lips, her arms rests over his shoulders.
Even though she has been pleasing herself with memories of last at night, this gentle kiss fills her more than her own fingers have been able to. He ruined her and left her lonelier than ever, but she didn't mind if she could have moments like this one.
His hands move from the desk and onto her sides, where one then goes up to rest on her upper back, and the other goes to gingerly land on the small of her back. She smells so perfectly of soap and possibly a hint of perfume, probably from being around Josephine.
The soft embrace of their lips grows even more compassionate, as she pushes herself deeper into his kind embrace; requiring more than what he's offering up, but he eagerly complies; pushing harder against her.
As he squeezes her ass, she hums a moan against his mouth and press herself against him when she feels something hard pressing against her crotch. “You're wearing it again?”
“Yes,” he speaks with no sign of anxiety. “It feels right, it feels more... like me.” He traces her neck with sloppy kisses. “It completes me.”
“I understand that.” She grabs his face and stares into his eyes. No words, yet there is a loving and sympathetic sense to her expression.
Something in Krem twists. He feels accepted by her, in a different way than Bull and his chargers and anyone else; it's unexplainable. He softens in ways he haven't before under her tender gaze, but also...
The hand on her ass travels further down, past the buttocks and as far under her that he can reach. She lets out a shocked gasp as he presses against her entrance through the layers of clothing. She seems to be more sensitive at his touch than her own; her hands ball up, one at his shirt and the other at his hair.
Whimpers escape her as she closes her eyes and push herself towards his hand. He watches her with great interest, as he pushes against the leather, as deep as it will let him, which is far from enough.
“A-ah, Krem, please...” she moans and swiftly goes for a hungry kiss. She feels so terribly empty now, with his teasing quickly becoming unbearable.
He holds her tightly as he stands up from the table and turns both of them around, so that she's now caught between him and the wooden desk. They let go of one another as he fights with the buttons of her shirt.
“Tear it off, I can't wait, I can't,” she whines, her body quivering with lust for his skin.
“Yes ma'am.” The buttons fly off and clink against stone floors, pirouetting across every surface.
He pulls off her undershirt and exposes her pale, lean, scarred, perfect skin. Not a second passes before he ducks down to close his mouth against a nipple, sending shivers up through Lavellan and out her mouth in soft curses with his name attached.
She tugs at his hair every time he hits something right. Futile attempts at words gets blocked by ecstatic cries, and instead she grabs onto his hand. He looks up at her through his lashes to catch her staring back with desire so intense, a jolt of excitement goes down his spin.
When she can't speak, she leads his hand down to where she aches for his touch.
Surprisingly enough he manages to unbutton her pants immediately, and his rough fingers dive into the wetness of her. He's quick to find her clit, and at the stimulation she throws back her head to let her voice echo through the candle lit night. Pleasure coils in the pits of her stomach as she writhes to meet the broke rhythm of his inebriated movement.
“Ahh Krem, more, I need--” she struggles to talk through her arousal.
He lifts his head up to nibble at her collarbone, biting his way up her neck to smirk at her mouth. “This?”
Strong fingers slip down and spreads her folds, a bit constrained by the fabric of her underwear, he ensures to never let his hand loose contact with her clit as he travels down to her enthusiastic entrance. “You're so fucking wet.”
“Y-your... fault...” she stutters, eyes screwed shut with anticipation.
“I do this to you?” He moves his hand in short circles, palming at her clit and tracing the outer ring of her impatient pussy.
She can't give any other sound than an agreeable whimper and nods. Her legs are as spread as the leather of her pants will let them, as she chases his fingers and grinds forward.
“What if I do...” He inserts one finger. “This?”
She bites down on her lip to keep the pleased yelp in and bends forward to press her face into the crook of his neck, where she lets out soft sounds against his salty skin in sync with Krem wiggling and thrusting his one finger. She breathes in his musk and holds it in, as if she'd forget how perfect the moment is.
He hums against the side of her head and delightfully listens to her louder moans when he sinks in another finger. She pants harder and slips his name into his ear.
“Krem! Yes, oh,” she croons.
Her body stills as he manages to hit all the right spots, and she doesn't dare to accidentally interrupt his flow where he quickly creates heat and accelerate the euphoria she feels with every single second.
“I... I... ahh, hn.” She leans away from him, a hand supporting her on the table and another to massage her breast. In this position, Krem can see everything of her, and she knows, as she watches him watching her.
He can't move, lest he falls out of rhythm, he can only stare at her, painfully unable to do everything he wants. Ravenous eyes takes in everything she is, from where his hand disappears into her trousers, over her heaving chest being sensually massaged by herself, to where her mouth calls for his, and where her eyes watch longingly at how he inspects her.
She tilts her head backwards, as her body starts to tense up from the stimulation that warms her and fills her entire body, like a bubble ready to burst.
After he adds a third finger she can't hold it together anymore, as the bubble bursts, warm static shooting through her like a lightning strike. She cries out loudly and clenches tightly around his fingers, as he speeds up the massaging of her clit to coax out as much pleasure and satisfaction possible. She quickly grabs his wrist, to keep his hand in place, to grind out the last few jolts by herself.
When she's reduced to a barely upright heaving mess, Krem goes to lick sweat off of her chest and neck. He's satisfied when she's satisfied.
“Krem...” she breathes.
“Yes, your worship?” He smiles at her and goes to softly kiss her lips.
“Thank you...” She smiles into him.
“My absolute pleasure.” His voice is low and less sloppy from before.
Krem finally removes his hand; three fingers soaked and moist. Their eyes meet in a tense silence, she looks on keenly as he sucks his fingers clean of her, and instantly the embers in her breaks into a roaring flame once more.
She pushes herself off of the desk with such intensity, it scoots slightly across the floor and papers fall over the edges. Rapidly she's in his personal space again, and he smirks widely enticingly as she takes his hand, then slithers her tongue up his fingers, curls it around them to taste the sweet mix of both of them.
“You're not done?” he asked, but she took it more like an invitation, and dived for his mouth, tongue first.
She tugs expectantly at his shirt and runs her hands down to lift it up. He's quick to follow her instructions, as he tosses it over his head, and his undershirt follows until he stands topless, save for the tight leather binder hiding the fake part of him.
Lavellan doesn't care, she slides her hands over his scarred six-pack and feels the muscles twitch underneath her finger tips. Imagining her lithe, pale body squirm against his tanned, muscular self spreads the fire in her soul as it burns brighter than the flames in the fireplace.
“Come,” she demands with a soft cadence, her fingers attached to the waist of his pants. “I want you...”
She throws herself on her back, over the sheets of the large bed. Krem hasn't been in a proper bed for as many years as he's been with the Chargers, and he was somewhat shamefully excited to just lie in one.
“You want me?” He faked a surprised voice, as he unties his pants, noticing how her eyes are expectantly glued to where his hand works. “You want this?”
His pants drop to the floor and the strap on is now much more apparent as a large bulge in his trousers.
“Are you... comfortable with being all out for me like this?” she asked, ensuring he wont wind up doing something he could grow to regret.
“With you, I am completely sure in everything I do.” He smiles confidently, maybe acting a bit more than how he truly felt, but sometimes you have to fight through the nerves.
He slips out of his boots and the last bit of clothing he had on, and finally stood in the fullest nude he could be content with, the impressive leather work standing erect.
The two of them grin cheekily at each other, before Krem jumps onto the plush bed, and it was so much softer than he ever imagined.
“This is amazing,” he sighs happily as he feels the silken sheets with his hands.
“Hey, Krem,” she speaks softly and caresses his cheek. “I appreciate everything you do for me...”
There's a scolding tightness in his chest, a flurry of emotion pushing forth words he wont say. Not yet. He smiles at kisses her palm, then her wrist, up her arm to her shoulder, and soft pecks on her lips. “Let's get you out of these.”
He swoops down to grab both her pants and underwear by the waist, and in one splendid pull, removes both. Lavellan laughs as she's so easily tossed around by his incredible strength, when she's lifted up by him, and he effortlessly throws her further up the bed.
He follows right after her, trailing quick kisses up her body as he's greedy for her mouth and to swallow her moans. She swings her arms around him as their lips meet again and again, tongues dancing, his dick rubbing between her folds and against her swollen clit.
“Krem! I want it in, please,” she whimpers against his kisses, writhing her body into his.
“Oh is that so? You want my cock?” He smirks, a bit hesitant about such vulgar language, but he wanted to try it. He wanted to try a lot of things with her.
“Yes, Cremisius! I want you fat cock inside of me,” she spoke in a soft cry.
Well that worked better than he had thought and didn't want to leave her waiting. He leads a hand down to align himself with her soaking pussy, and thrusts forward with a less than gentle motion. He might still be a bit intoxicated.
“Ahh hah, fu-uh-ck,” she moans.
Her back arches off of the bed in pure compulsion from the wonderfully filling thrusting. Krem sits up, kneeling behind her with strong hands on her hips as he drove in with zeal, enjoying the sound of her voice echoing louder than ever, the slapping of skin, her breasts bouncing, her hot flushed face.
“Maker's breath,” he groans with exertion and self satisfaction from knowing he's causing her to lose her composure like this. A sweaty mess emptying her lungs to say his name.
Each thrust created waves of pleasure surging through her entire being, crashing like waves on the storm coast. She whines his name a few more times and catch his gaze, reaching a hand up to beg him closer. He's soon down by her again, lying flat against her and the mattress to be as near as possible, kissing the sides of her face.
“I'm right here,” he whispers and she holds him tightly.
“Yes, ahn, so good.” She overflows with positive moans of delight. “I won't last long... like this.”
“You don't have to.” He creates the slightest distance between them to guide his hand down to rub her clit.
“Haah! Th-thank you,” she manages to mumble between her intense moans and grabs his free hand to intertwine their fingers. She wraps her legs around him to ensure there wont be a moment without contact.
“I'll do anything for you...” He looks her directly in the eyes. “Look at me, please.”
She turns to him and their eyes meet.
“Show me what I do to you...”
Just by the look in a persons eyes you can know so many things, a simple glance can say more than books and words could ever hope to attain.
And Krem knew. And Lavellan knew.
When she reached her second orgasm of the night, and definitely the best one yet, she kept her eyes trained on his, and won the battle of keeping them open. Her mouth quivers with his name; “Krem, I-ahh...” as every muscle tense at the glorious flood racing through her. Down to the very last jolt, she looked deep into his eyes and soul.
For a few beats, nothing is said or done, just panting and huffing. He leans down to press his forehead against hers in a brief moment of exhaustion.
He pulls out and crawls off of her, to go sit by the edge of the bed.
She crawls after him and sits to hold him from behind. “I don't want to bring it up if you don't want to talk about it, but...” Her hands fall over his chest and clings around his stomach to hug him just below where the binder ends.
“I know, I'm... I want to. But I still fight with it on my own time, I'm just not ready yet to be that vulnerable with anyone.” He sighs and puts a hand on top of hers.
“Take your time, I enjoy every moment I have with you,” she whispers and kisses his neck.
“Me too.” His smile is rather morose, but there's a twinge of optimism to his tone. He turns around and kisses her forehead. “I should go, it's late and I'm tired and drunk... I think.”
“No! I, uhh,” she catches herself speaking a bit too loudly for such a quiet room, and Krem looks curiously at her. “Stay here, please?”
He grins like a lovesick fool at her. “It is much nicer than what I have down at the barracks. But I can't sleep like... this...” He gestures to the binder and strap-on.
“Oh... I don't mind you sleeping with clothes on. I'll go get the candles and you can change, ok?” Her smile is so lovely and soft and understanding.
“Ok,” he says and kisses her with a quiet passion.
As she jumps out of bed and walks about in the nude to extinguish the candles, he wastes time watching her adoringly. He was going to be ready for her one day, that he had decided.
When the room is only lit by the roaring fireplace and the moon glancing in, Lavellan turns to see Krem dressed in his trousers and undershirt, a clear shadow falling under his chest as he stands by the bed under the moonlight.
He turns his face to look away from her, embarrassed and humiliated.
She hurries onto the bed and kneels before him, and holds his hand. “It's okay. You can still go sleep on your own, if you're not ready.”
“If I don't do it eventually, I'll never be completely ready,” he speaks hesitantly and still avoids eye contact.
But when she puts a soft hand to his handsome face, he can't help but take in her delicate form. He dips down to kiss her and follows along as she makes room for him.
Lying down, it feels as if every muscle in his overly strained body just give in, on top of this unrealistically soft bed, not noticing how he lets out a light “oohhh.”
“You sleep like this every night?” he asks lowly, quickly too comfortable to function.
“Well no, I haven't ever had a soldier as handsome as you to share it with.” She smirks at her own cheesiness, and lies as close as she dares, but not as close as she wants.
“I wouldn't mind making this a regular thing, your worship.” He smiles contently and pulls her in completely, but quickly winces.
“Are you hurt?” she asks, worried and sits up.
“No! No, not exactly, it's just...” He grimaces as he touches his chest and sides. “I'm just sore... my binder is possibly a bit too small by now. I've been training a lot extra lately since there's not much else to do.”
“Oh, yeah, I can see why then. You know I'm a healer, right?” She holds his hand gingerly and meets his gaze. “I could relieve you of some pain, if you want.”
He seems to think on it for forever, before exhaling, his heart beating harder than a galloping ram. He can't get any words out through the dormant anxiety, and simply nods, lying down again.
“Just tell me to stop whenever you're uncomfortable, ok? I only want you to feel good.”
He lets out a small “yes.”
Her hands glow softly with the magical prowess that runs through her body. “Where does it hurt?”
With a slight hesitation, enough for her to notice, he grabs her warm hands and places them where the pain sits, too close to his breasts for comfort. He wants to throw up, to leave and go have an anxiety attack somewhere alone, but... the healing touch she laid on him seemed to ease everything.
“Is this ok?” she whispers.
He hums instead of a yes and smiles warmly, well on his way to falling asleep. She smiles back, happiness intensifying her magics, and stays still like that until he's completely gone.
She runs her hand through his hair once, kisses his forehead, then snuggles into him.