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Zevran's tongue made a familiar clucking sound as Erina approached him, away from the campfire for their now-nightly training sessions in skills of assassinating. The tsk-ing normally meant he was disappointed in her stance, her attack, her stealth, or her sense of humor. She was confused when it was employed at the very beginning.
"We haven't even started yet, and I've already screwed something up?" Erina sighed, frustration rising.
"No, my dear. You simply look so very tired," Zevran said with a concerned smile. "All this walking and fighting and the nightmares... they appear to be taking their toll on you. Do you know what you need?"
"A horse and a personal army?" Erina grumbled, leaning against a nearby tree. A shiver went through her as the cool night air settled on her.
"Ha, perhaps. But I am thinking more drastic, immediate measures are called for in your case."
This was curious; Erina quirked an eyebrow at him. "Zevran, what are you talking about?"
Zevran took a confident step forward. "I think we should retire to your tent, and I should show you the sort of massage skills that one can only learn by being raised in an Antivan whorehouse. If you are amenable, that is."
A different kind of shiver ran through Erina. "Uh... surely you're joking."
"Do I appear to be joking?" Zevran asked, a mischievous grin growing on his face as he took another step forward.
"Kind of all the time, yeah."
He pouted. "Perhaps I have misread our interactions, dear Warden. I simply wished to provide you with a relaxing evening of pleasure, but consider the issue respectfully dropped if you are not interested."
Erina sighed and took a step closer to him. She rested her hand on his forearm, stilling him from retreat.
"Zevran, wait. I just needed a second for my brain to catch up with what was happening here. You're suggesting...? Seriously?"
"I am suggesting," he drawled, "that two beautiful and fascinating people retire to your tent and enjoy each other's company for a night. With the emphasis on your pleasure, my sweet Warden."
"Oh," Erina smirked. "Well, who is this other beautiful and fascinating person joining me?"
Zevran glowered at her playfully. "You wound me. Perhaps this offer was simply not meant to be." He started to turn away as he finished speaking.
Erina said nothing in reply, she merely tightened her grip on his arm and tugged hard. She used the pull to back them both up against the tree, so they both collided against it and into each other with a pleasant thud.
"Warden...?" Zevran's eyes were searching hers curiously.
"Use my name," Erina said, voice low and arms locked around his lean waist.
He grinned at her, sliding his arms underneath hers. He leaned his head forward, nestling his nose into her exposed neckline and inhaling her natural scent, mixed with sweat and leather. He nipped at her skin with his blunt teeth, then kissed his way up to her pointed ear.
"Erina," he whispered, hot breath against her cold skin.
"Nngh," Erina grunted as a ball of flame ignited within her belly at his light touches. Despite her best attempts to convince herself otherwise, she needed this. She needed him.
"My tent," she ordered. "Five minutes."
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She took the five minutes to clean herself up a little bit and put on simple linen clothes rather than her leather armor. Time seemed to drag as she waited for Zevran to approach. Should she worry about the other companions seeing? Why would it matter? So she’d get some gentle teasing about it, big deal. Alistair might be offended, but it wasn’t her fault she lacked interest in his puppy appeal.
A gentle wafting of cloth in the breeze was all she heard when Zevran entered the tent, a slightly eerie thing she wished she didn't know. His arms wrapped around her from behind, and she could feel that he, too, was no longer armored. Didn't make him less threatening, though.
Erina leaned back against him, smiling to herself. "So, how does this massage start?"
"Well," he purred, "you take off your clothes and lay on your bedroll. I will use oils and my hands and you will see stars."
"I have to be naked?"
Zevran laughed, deep and throaty in her ears. "Have you never done this before? I am not opposed to being your first, but this is knowledge I must have..."
Erina elbowed him in the gut. "I've had sex before, you pig. But..."
"Tsk," Zevran clucked before he turned Erina around to face her. His golden eyes searched her green ones. "You have never experienced a moment of relaxation in your life, have you?"
"Not much," she agreed, jaw setting bitterly.
"A tragedy I will remedy," he said agreeably. "Now please, do me the utmost honor of removing your clothing."
Erina chuckled, but acquiesced. She slowly slipped out of her linen pants and simple shirt, giving Zevran a bit of a show as she stripped to her underwear. His face appeared appreciative, though she was certain he had seen better.
Zevran gestured to the bedroll on the ground, and Erina raised an eyebrow at him. "Do I lay on my belly or my back?"
"On your front, first, my sweet," he instructed, pouring a small amount of oil he had brought with him into the palms of his hands. "And if you are comfortable, please remove the bra so I do not get oil all over it."
Erina took a deep breath and obeyed. She laid flat on her stomach, feeling exposed and bracing herself for whatever was going to happen. Whatever she thought might transpire, it did not include the sensation that actually occurred.
Zevran's hands were warm and gentle, pleasantly slick with oil that softened the callouses on his fingers and palms. He started between her shoulder blades, applying a gentle pressure to the knots that had formed.
"You carry stress in your shoulders and neck, hm?" Zevran asked quietly.
"The weight of the world," Erina agreed between grunts, holding back groans as he worked those muscles to release. He continued to work quietly, sliding his hands artfully over the muscles and tissue of her back before using his thumbs to target specifically difficult knots in her neck.
Erina let her eyes close, no longer holding back the groans. She had been anticipating groping; she had no idea someone could, or would, use their hands solely for the release and pleasure of another. This was heaven.
"You are magical," she drawled into her pillow.
"I am well-trained," he corrected, chuckling. "Patience, my dear."
After what felt like glorious hours, the assassin's palms wandered to the small of her back, and her eyes popped open. Oh, yeah. This was welcome, too.
Zevran's deft fingers danced lightly over the skin of her muscular hips and thighs, a sensation that almost tickled were it not for the fiery lightning bolts it was sending to the pit of her stomach and below.
It had been a while.
Zevran leaned over her as his hand gently stroked her thigh, avoiding skin hidden by her underwear.
"You seem tense?" he asked quietly before kissing the base of her neck.
"No," she gasped. "Just... out of practice. Please continue."
She could feel his grin before he pulled away from her and continued his hands' movements. He applied the same massaging pressure to her legs, but the feelings were no longer purely relaxing. Glorious, all the same, but she found each touch increasingly taunting.
He continued down each calf and back up to her thighs and hips. His hands continued kneading and massaging, but she also felt the gentle touch of his hair against her bare, sensitive skin. A blush broke out over what she assumed was her entire body. His lips were suddenly against her thigh, his hands working their way up to her covered skin.
One finger pulled at the covering, another assisting in guiding it down her legs slowly, tantalizingly.
Zevran's hands gripped her cheeks suddenly and firmly. He made a deep-throated sound of appreciation as he sat back and admired her form, while she found it difficult to breathe evenly. The sensation of his hands working her rarely-touched skin was making her squirm in ways she had never experienced.
"Warden," he said quietly, "would you like to turn over now?"
Thoughts were jumbled in her head for a moment. Turn... over... Be revealed, see his face, his form, his body on top of hers, hands on her...?
"Maker, yes," she sighed.
Zevran's hands were immediately at her sides, guiding her slowly over and enjoying every inch of skin that the transition allowed him to access. The moment her back hit the mat and she saw his gleaming face above her, instinct kicked in for both of them.
He was lowering his face to hers just as her hands were at his cheeks, pulling him down. Their lips met, a collision of heat, desire, need. She felt his hand in her hair, undoing her ponytail to take hold of her as his tongue dueled hers for dominance. She won.
Erina's hands slid down his body, grabbing at his shirt. She pulled away from the kiss for air, and to pant, "Zevran. Naked. Now."
"I thought you would never demand," he said breathlessly. He winked at her, his expert hands tugging at the fabric of his own shirt and revealing his sculpted chest and abdomen.
"There is a Maker," she whispered as she eyed his muscular torso, one palm sliding slowly down his chest to properly take in the feel of his smooth, tanned, occasionally-scarred skin.
He shifted his position beside her, eyes lingering over the gentle slopes and deceptively soft lines of her body. Erina felt his still-clothed erection pressing against her hip, a sensation that sent the heat in her belly rushing between her legs.
Zevran's hand, still slick with massaging oils, cupped her breast closest to him, appreciating its delicate weight. His calloused thumb slipped purposefully and lightly over her erect nipple, sending shockwaves down her body. Erina's eyes slipped closed as a moan escaped her lips, but she felt his gaze locked on her, studying her reactions. She didn't mind; the imagined grin on his face didn't hurt her pleasure.
"My sweet Warden," he murmured, lowering his lips to her collarbone and speaking in between light suction and kisses as his head descended at a leisurely pace. "You are stunning."
"Not so bad yourself," she said, moaning again as his thumb caressed her breast further.
"May I have your permission to indulge further in your beauty?" Zevran asked, his kisses lingering just above her breast.
"Zevran," Erina grunted, reaching down to run her fingers through his hair. She paused as she found a good grip, and grabbed him tight by the scruff. "If you don't fuck me? I'm going to kick your ass."
He chuckled against her skin, and then his warm, wet tongue was dancing against her nipple as his hand journeyed to the other breast, repeating his earlier ministrations. Her hips bucked up from her bedroll and she gasped in pleasant surprise.
Zevran's hand strayed from her breast, caressing the mostly-muscled and slightly bruised skin of her abdomen, stopping as he reached her smattering of red pubic hair. Erina's breath hitched as he ran his fingers over her hair and lips, teasing her.
"Zevran," she urged.
"Mmm," he said, lifting his mouth. "I like when you say that."
"I like when you put your mouth to better uses than talking," she retorted, but she was smiling.
"As you wish."
The heat of his body against hers disappeared in a second, and she opened her eyes in a sudden panic. Had she angered him?
Half-expecting to see an empty room, what she found instead made her eyes roll back in her head in relief and pleasure as soon as they were opened. In that moment, Zevran was lying between her legs, hands parting her thighs and fingers exposing her arousal to him. Then the assassin lowered his mouth to her clit, all tongue and light suction, and she felt like her body exploded. Her hips bucked again, thighs clenching around his head and one hand snaking into his hair. This apparently encouraged him in his endeavors, as he redoubled his efforts against her.
The sensations flowing over her and the sounds pouring out of her left her unable to do much but let the tide of pleasure overtake her.
"Zevran," she grunted, tightening her grip on his hair. "I'm gonna..."
He moaned against her in response, unable to reply conventionally. He pushed her hips down and thighs apart, exposing her further to his relentless assault.
The feeling of utter abandonment of inhibitions, the joy of a beautiful elf with his face between her legs, and the fact that someone cared solely for her pleasure... these were all that flashed through her mind as orgasm swept through her body. She cried out wordlessly, writhing against him and letting her body do as it pleased.
The throbbing, overwhelming fog of pleasure receded when she noticed that Zevran was against her side again, one arm across her chest. He was grinning at her, so satisfied with himself she thought his mouth might break.
Before they could speak, there was commotion outside the tent.
"Leliana, let me through," Alistair was outside, and he sounded angry, worried.
"I will not," Leliana's lilting accent replied.
"She could be hurt! What if he's attacking her?"
Leliana's giggle was priceless. "Alistair, I do not think you understand what is happening in there."
"What?" Alistair asked.
Morrigan's voice arrived from further away. Clearly Alistair's alarm drew her attention, if only to make fun of him. "You idiot. Tis fairly obvious she’s taking her pleasure with the assassin.”
"She wouldn't! Not with..."
Erina sighed. "Andraste’s tits!" she swore loudly. "I am fine. Go the fuck away!"
"More than fine," Zevran echoed. Erina elbowed him and shot him a glare.
There was more commotion, but it drifted away from her tent at least.
"That will be fun," Erina groaned, laying back down.
Zevran sat up, looking down at her appreciatively but respectfully. "Shall I leave you?"
Erina grinned up at him, her turn to be mischievous. Her hands swept down his chest to the lining of his pants. She delicately felt his still-prominent arousal through his clothes and smirked.
"You aren't done yet," she mused.
"This evening was about you," he replied hesitantly.
"Mmm. And maybe I want to show you what I can do?" Her hand slipped beneath the fabric, seeking him out for a slow, suggestive stroke.
Zevran took a sharp breath through his nose at her touch. "Then I am yours to command, my Warden," he said quietly.
"Don't call me that," she sighed.
"Warden? Or... mine?" he asked, head tilted in confusion. "You are the Warden are you not? But I suppose you are not 'mine...'"
"No, Zevran, I mean... I don't want my duty in here. I just want to be Erina for a while."
"Ah, a simple enough request. I will happily use your name, my sweet."
"That's not my name either," she said, glaring at him.
"Perhaps you should make me learn how to say it properly, then," Zevran suggested, his intent clear in his smirk.
Erina sat up and pushed Zevran to the mat, returning his smirk. "Happily."