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“A little slower…and a lot harder.”
From the point her back hit the mattress it had been a frantic scramble. Their tongues clashed and his hands knotted in her hair, and this was what she had been expecting from sex with The Iron Bull, wild and fierce and desperate. But even as he bit her lip so hard she tasted blood he was somehow steady, fixed above her to keep the upper hand, a hurricane and calm all at once.
She balked when he first removed the rope from his bag beside her bed—he’d made more than one serious assumption in coming here—and she scooted back, unsure when he began to uncoil it.
“Shh,” he murmured, reaching out to stroke her chin with a surprising gentleness though the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable. She let him move over her, breathing deeply, eyes fluttering shut. “Adaar. Trust me.”
She wanted to, and the gentle brushing of soft rope against her wrists was enticing.
“You’ll like this,” he told her, so casual that she had to believe him. She nodded and he set to work, loops around her wrists, beautiful knot work holding them in place. As quickly as this had started it became silent. He took his time and the moment called her only to watch. His touch was reverent and she melted under it, and this was not what she had been expecting from sex with the Iron Bull, not what she would expect from sex with anyone. She let her eyes flutter shut for only an instant before he kissed her thumb, and she didn’t have to look down to know that both her wrists were tied, cuffed so intricately it felt like lace. He held her gaze for a moment before binding them together, somewhere between a dare and a study. He was giving her a chance to back out, and her lips turned upward.
There was a surge of adrenaline as he pressed her hands above her head again the way he’d done against the wall and she realized she couldn’t fight.
Just like that, they were back. His mouth went to claim her neck, his teeth sinking in, and she knew there’d be bruises in the morning. She gasped, shifting under his grasp just to know that she couldn’t escape, to send that delicious thrill through her body again. Her heart was pounding in her ears and in her cunt, and she knew he had to feel it against his tongue on her pulse point. She pressed her thighs together, desperate for friction. They were slippery; she was dripping.
“Please,” she gasped.
“Please what, ” he growled against her throat, and she shuddered at the reverberations.
“Just touch me. Just touch me.”
His mouth left her neck and she saw him smile. One hand kept her pinned to the bed and the other snaked down her body. He wasted no time on teasing, pushing two fingers in without even pausing at her clit, and she gasped.
“It’s a fucking lake down here,” he told her. “An ocean . You’re desperate.”
“I am.”
“ That is what I like to hear.” A third finger plunged in and she keened. “Keep your arms above your head. You move, I stop.” His other hand released her and he rocked back onto his knees. Three fingers pressed against the front wall of her cunt and she gasped. The palm of his other hand pressed against her pelvis and she screamed. He had her pinned from the inside and the out and she was so close to coming even as her clit throbbed from inattention. It was bold and overpowering and she found herself struggling to breathe. There was a note of panic as she gasped and she squirmed as he thrust his fingers again and again. He paused.
“Adaar. Eyes on me.” Her eyes snapped to his. “In and out. Focus on it.” She took a shaky breath. “You breathe. I do the work.” He watched her for a moment until she found her control, then plunged back in.
Somehow it felt even stronger when she complied, filling her lungs deep the way she did when she gathered magic within her, relaxing the way she did when a fight was done. It took all her effort not to push into the sensation, to ride it out instead, and she found herself gasping with each press of his fingers, her breaths voiced more and more until she was nearly sobbing. Her orgasm crashed over her like nothing had before, her cunt clenching so hard she could feel the joints of his fingers. The scream that crashed from her mouth didn’t sound like her, and as she came to she realized Bull was laughing.
“What--” she managed, trying to sound indignant. He pulled his fingers from her, shaking his wrist.
“I don’t know,” he chuckled. “You were lost there, but you didn’t move your wrists. You’re a bit of a natural. Bring them back down now.”
He was right, she realized, somehow embarrassed as she drew her arms back to her chest. The only other position she could hold them in was across her abdomen, and she pressed them down experimentally against her pubic bone, trying to mimic what he’d done to her.
“Mmph,” he said. “I can’t wait to bury myself inside of you.”
“Then don’t wait,” she told him.
“Soon. I’m going to make you come again, the other way. You’ll have to tell me which kind is better. It’s always hard for people to choose.”
She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but that was his only warning before his finger found her clit and his mouth found her chest. She bit her tongue as he scraped his teeth over her nipple sharp and quick. His pace around her clit started slow but didn’t stay there and he sucked bruises into her chest as she closed her eyes so tight she saw stars. This was more familiar but no less pleasurable, and she set a rhythm thrusting against his hand. He growled and bit her nipple harder but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of a shout. Her orgasm was sudden—hard and fast, and ke kept his punishing pace against her clit until she tried to push him awkwardly away with her hands that were pinned between them.
“I think you’re ready for me now.” He rose off of her and began to untie the bindings around her wrists, quicker than he had tied them but just as careful
. “Shake them,” he said as they fell away. She rolled her wrists.“Okay?” There was no pain or even sudden rush of blood flow and she nodded. “Good.”
She stretched as he stood to undress. His bracer was already off, and his pants hit the floor with a thud. She let her eyes wander his body, muscled and nicked with scars, some new, some ancient. She knew he was watching her, and she found his cock deliberately last. It bobbed against his stomach, hard, and she could almost see it throbbing. He flexed it as he took a step towards her.
“Spread your legs.”
She did, lips parted so she could breathe because suddenly it was hard. He took his space in between them and leaned over her, pressing the head of his cock against her entrance. He was breathing heavily, which brought her a twinge of satisfaction even as he teased her with tiny thrusts, barely brushing between her lips, and she was so wet she couldn’t feel much friction. She wrapped her hands around his horns and pulled him down towards her.
“Fuck me.”
He pushed in all at once and she should have known better than to challenge him. She gasped, stretched around him, impaled, and though his three fingers loosened her her orgasms had left her coiled tight, and it had been so long. He didn’t give her time to adjust and began moving right away. She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched towards him.
“Adaar,” he gasped, and picked up speed.
She didn’t hold back, and whimpered and groaned and moaned as he thrust into her. He wasn’t quiet either, and it reminded her of battle. Reminded her of Taarsidath-an halsaam, of the blood they’d spilt and the Maraas-Lok they’d drank together.
“I won’t lie,” he growled. “It’s been a while since I haven’t had to hold back.” His thrusts were hard but there was still restraint—she felt him jerk back before he was fully inside her each time, so she locked her ankles around his hips.
“Then don’t hold back,” she gasped, and she swore if he pulled another “You don’t know what you’re asking,” she’d—
His hips slammed into her as he bottomed out and a gasp escaped her throat.
“You sure, Adaar?” and he was halfway between pleading and cocky and she drew a deep breath and nodded.
“More than.”
“I’m going to hurt you,” he warned one last time, almost singsong. She locked eyes with him.
“ Good.”
Her confidence was almost misplaced as his control snapped and the depth and pace and roughness increased all at once. It had been a long time since someone had fucked her like this too, in fact no one had ever fucked her like this. This was brutal and animalistic and had her mewling as she clung to him, clumsily trying to meet his thrusts until he slammed his hands to her hips to pin her to the bed as he moved to take her on his knees.
“Over,” he ordered when she was just at the edge between pleasure and pain, good and hurt. He guided her to her belly with rough hands, then tugged her by her ankles to the edge of the bed. He bottomed out again, hitting the back wall of her cunt and her teeth dug into her lip as the shockwaves radiated out across her body. There was a sudden moment of stillness and quiet, the only sound their panting breath.
“Damn,” The Iron Bull said after a moment. “You good, Adaar?”
“Yes,” she told him honestly.
“You going to come from this?”
“I don’t think so. But I want it more than I’ve wanted anything in so fucking long.”
“I’ll make it up to you later.”
Then control was lost to him again and he was pounding into her, hands punishingly tight around her hip bones as he pulled her to him with each thrust. He was hitting a spot that had never been hit this hard and she loved it even as she pulled away from him, half only to hear him growl and yank her back into position. She gripped the sheets and she didn’t know how much more she could take, how much before she collapsed, before she passed out, before she screamed so loud that all of Skyhold would hear her. Somehow his pace increased, and she thought the backs of her thighs would be bruised from the power with which they were smacking against his.
“Ah,” she cried with each thrust, and he growled, wrapping a fist in her hair and tugging sharply as he finally came. He slowed, fucking into her for a few seconds more before slipping out and slumping against her back. His cum dripped out of her, and he swiped a finger of it against her inner thigh.
“This okay?” he asked her, and she laughed with tired lungs because it was a little late.
“Nothing magic won’t fix.”
“Figured. Lost control.”
“I loved it.”
“Still, sorry. I usually pull out.”
“If you didn’t there’d be a dozen little half-Qunari running around the camp.”
“Hey, no such thing!”
He only needed one hand to roll her back over to her back and settle down beside her.
“Mm.” He reached a hand out to rub her abdomen. “You want me to make you come again?”
“No way. I’m exhausted. Next time.”And she froze for a moment at her casual assumption that there’d be a next time.
“Alright,” he chuckled. He gave her a pat. “Be right back. Let me help you get cleaned up.”
He reappeared a few minutes later. He took a gulp of water from a glass before handing it to her and she sat up to sip it gratefully. She sighed as he rubbed a cool cloth over the bite marks on her chest and the bruises on her hips. He almost hesitated before slowly tipping her chin upward, brushing so gently along the marks on her neck that she held her breath. His grip tightened for half an instant and she gasped. He let out a low rumble.
“Careful. That’s not a game that I usually play.”
As if he didn’t start it , she thought, but shivered. He worked quickly between her legs before sweeping them to her side and joining her on the bed again.
“Give me a few minutes to recover. Then I’ll be on my way.”
“Mm,” she agreed, finally letting her eyes close. She was already sore, but she’d sleep well tonight. She drifted off before he left, but her bed was cold in the morning. It was what she expected, and almost a relief. Feelings were messy, and the world was already a twisted mess. But she shook her head and smiled to her reflection in the mirror when she saw the purple marks that painted her neck and chest the next morning. Her highest collared shirt almost covered them, but they’d still peek out in the war room.
Good. A reminder that she was a person. She ate and slept and breathed and fucked just like the rest of them. She wasn’t a saintly chantry mother, she wasn’t a prophet, and she never would be. She was Herrah Adaar, leader of the Inquisition, slayer of demons and dragons and bandits, and she’d take down Corypheus with her own friends and her own will. And maybe she’d ride the Bull along the way.