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Dawes’s hands were deft but gentle as he tightened the straps around Lace’s hips, his fingers trailing over her bare skin as he checked the soft leather around her thighs. When he looked up at her, she couldn’t help but catch her lip in her teeth. He looked so right on his knees in their cosy bedroom, lit by soft candlelight. His eyes, dark with want, his length laying half-hard against his leg. That made her just about change her plan.
Be strong, Lace!
“It looks good on you,” he murmured, tracing the edge of the harness.
She giggled, running her hands through his hair. He chased her touch, his eyes half-lidded. “Now, I’ve got a few you can pick from.”
“A few?” The barest smile.
“Mhm.” She let her fingers trail down until she cupped his chin. “Unless you want a surprise.”
His smile turned broad. “Surprise me.”
She took a deep breath. By now, she’d seen Dawes in all states of undoing. But this—she couldn’t deny that she wanted to push him. To see him writhe, and cry, and beg. To give him everything he wanted…after a bit of teasing, perhaps. In no rush, she made her way to the nightstand and surveyed her collection in the top drawer. There were a few that were on the edge of too big, and some with bumps and ribbing that might be a bit much for the first time. Her gaze landed on the rose quartz. It wasn’t too large, and had a pretty pleasing shape. Crafted smoothly, it curved upward just a little. She bit her lip, pulled it out, then turned to wave it at him.
“This’ll do!”
Dawes knelt on the rug, his arms relaxed in his lap, but the way he breathed heavy, and how his eyes went dark as he surveyed the piece in her hand betrayed him. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.
With practised ease she set the quartz toy into its place and rejoined him by the bed. “Alright,” she said, her voice wavering a little. “Get comfy—”
“Hold on,” he whispered, gripping her hip. “Not yet.”
“O-okay…”
Dawes smiled, then ran his fingers down the quartz length. “We’ve got all night, Amata.”
With that, he pressed his lips to the base of it, his other hand taking a firm grip of her ass. She sucked in a sharp breath. All she could do was stare as ran his tongue up the side of the crystal, all while holding her gaze. Lace hesitated only a moment before smoothing her fingers through his hair. When she took a firm grip his breath caught, and he offered no resistance as she tilted his head back.
“You want it in your mouth, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he whispered, his gaze darting between the shaft and her eyes.
“Hmm.” She cocked her head, then moved his hand away from the strap. “I don’t think you want it that bad, love.”
His eyes searched her face, a hint of desperation in them. “I think you’ll find the view well worth it.”
Her heart surged. That went without saying. “Well, sure,” she said, inching the quartz dick closer to his mouth. He strained a little against the grip she had on his hair. “But if you don’t like doing it, what’s the point?”
“I like doing it,” he said immediately. Both of his hands were on her ass now, smoothing down to squeeze the fat on the back of her thighs.
She smiled down at him, but only gripped tighter to his hair. His eyelids fluttered and he made a soft sound in his throat, almost a whimper. More curious than anything, she pressed the tip of the piece gently against his lips, holding him still. Dawes held her gaze and flicked his tongue around it, the tendons in his neck standing up with how much he strained against her grip. She pulled away, saliva stringing from his tongue to the strap. Dawes made a sound close to a whine.
“Lace,” he gasped. “Please…”
She ran her fingers down the length of it, gathering his spit and leaving the quartz shining. Dawes watched her, his breath rasping and his eyelids heavy. Lace kept her silence, stroking off her own strap, a thrill burning through her at the effect it had on him. His mouth agape, his hands trembling where he held her. All the while his gaze was fixed on her movements.
“Please, Lace,” he said after a few moments of this. “Let me suck it.”
All she had the breath for was to hum with approval. She beamed down at him, at last relinquishing her grip on his hair.
As he took the base of the toy in his hand he looked up at her and whispered, “Thank you.”
Lace was amazed her legs didn’t collapse into noodles from the tone of his voice alone. So soft and grateful, his eyes wide and beautiful to match. She caught her lip in her teeth and drank in the sight of him as he laid the quartz on his tongue, closed his lips around it, and very slowly sunk down with hollowed cheeks.
“Dawes,” she breathed. “I don’t care that I can’t feel it, you look...you look good like that.”
He shut his eyes, his brows pinched together. It may as well have been real, the way he gripped tight to her thigh, letting his tongue flick over the head before sinking down to just about kiss the leather of her harness. She couldn’t ignore that he was fully hard now, the tip of his dick shining with a bead of arousal. He made small sounds in his throat, little moans, and whenever he came off the tip of it he gasped softly.
“You were right about the view,” she said, her heart hammering.
He hummed, running his tongue from the base of it all the way to the tip. What she wouldn’t give to be able to feel his lips, or his hands. And when she finally laid him down on that bed, to feel completely buried inside him. It almost wasn’t fair.
She tilted her head, considering. It was quartz, after all.
With a calming breath, she sent her awareness down, toward the natural resonance of the crystal slung from the harness. All at once, points of contact flooded her consciousness into something that was now a part of her, his lips, his fingers—the pressure of them—
With a gasp, she almost jerked away, and Dawes stopped immediately.
“Alright?” He was gasping, his lips shining and ears flushed, but concern sharpened his gaze. “You hurt?”
“No—” She took a shuddering breath, the resonance of the strap humming at the edge of her awareness. It was clear, crystalline—and an extension of her. “I…I can feel it. Kind of.”
His brows shot up. “Stone sense?” He huffed a laugh. “You’re going to use your Stone sense…to feel me suck you off?”
Her face burned hot. “Why not!”
“Why not…” He leaned forward again, and kissed the side of the shaft. “Feel that?”
She shivered. There was no heat, no direct pleasure—it wasn’t like touching her nipple or slipping a finger between her thighs. She couldn’t sense how wet his lips were, or the warmth of his hand circling the base. But there was pressure.
“A little,” she said, breathless. “Like…like you’re touching my hand, or something. Just—just keep going.”
“Yes ma’am,” he murmured, and kept his gaze trained on her face as he once more took her in his mouth.
Lace pressed her fingers against her lips. This time, as he sank down slow, there was a new sensation. Like a hum extending out from her. She felt his mouth, his tongue sliding around the shaft, his lips pressing tight.
“Oh,” she gasped. “Okay, that’s—”
She ran out of words. Instead, she gripped tight to his hair again, and when he moaned around her she felt the echo of it, a soft vibration. Catching her lip in her teeth, she cupped his jaw and slowly pulled out. He popped off, saliva glinting from the tip of the quartz to his tongue. She ran her thumb roughly over his lower lip. His eyes were half lidded, staring up at her as if she already had him bent over the bed. Carefully she guided him back and rocked forward, easing inside. She didn’t exactly fuck his throat, nothing so harsh—but with his cheeks hollow and his gaze blissfully vague, she did thrust as deep as she dared, until he all but choked and moaned around her, spit shining on his chin. To her surprise, heat coiled within her, and she clenched her thighs tight with every cant of her hips to seek even the slightest pressure against her clit.
“Dawes—”
He gripped hard to her ass, his eyes watering, his brows knitted. He’d made a mess over his lap, a thin string of his arousal slipping down to his thigh. Her heart hammering, she pulled gently out, her grip on his hair almost as much for balance as to hold him away from her. He gasped, panting heavily, his nails digging in where he gripped her.
“I—I need you—” he rasped, then swallowed, his chest heaving. “Amata, please…fuck me, please, beloved—”
Lace bit hard on her lip over how undone he already was. Like this, all his attention on her, begging and pleading.
“Of course,” she breathed, and brushed her knuckles down his face. “You’ll help me a little, right?”
“Yes, anything.”
“Okay. On the bed, then, love. Get comfortable.”
She helped him up. It was impossible to ignore how hard he already was, and she had to summon all of her will not to take him in her hand and make him come before they even got to the bed. She took a calming breath and guided him onto the mattress. It creaked a little as he laid back into the pillows, his fists gripping the sheets, his breath coming in short rasps. Lace fetched up the bottle of oil from the nightstand, then crawled up after him, settling herself between his thighs. She hadn’t exactly done this before, but she had the gist of it. Dawes’s gaze just about seared her as he watched her beneath those thick lashes. She uncorked the bottle and poured a generous amount into her palm. Perhaps a little too much, as some dripped to the sheets when she warmed it between her hands.
“Oops! Oh, shoot. Those were clean.”
“Forget the sheets—just, here—”
Impatience or desperation—it read the same as he clutched her wrist to guide her down between his legs. His hand encompassed hers as he moved her fingers around his entrance, circling, oil gathering and spreading. A soft moan left him, and with his other hand he cupped his balls out of the way.
“Like…like this, and then—”
He coaxed one of her fingers inside, his head falling back with a gasp. Lace hardly needed any further direction beyond that. She pumped gently, carefully, feeling him loosen under her ministrations. She curled her finger up to try and find that spot—Dawes’s breath caught in his throat and he arched, nodding fervently. Well, that was probably it. She was careful not to push too far too fast, but he was writhing beneath her touch, rolling his hips to match her, to guide her deeper.
“Please, please…”
“You’re doing so well, love, just a little more. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know, but—”
He broke off with a whine as she gradually eased a second finger inside. He shook with effort just to raise his head, his gaze caught on her face. Already so undone, his expression slack with pleasure. A string of precome slipped from his cock to his stomach. His hand twitched.
“You want to touch yourself, I know,” she said gently, curling her fingers up, scissoring them. This coaxed a sustained groan from him. “But you’ll come too fast if you do, so no touching.”
He just flopped his head back on the pillows and wiped his hands down his face. Lace held back a smirk. It turned out working him open was a task she found great delight in. All the sounds he made, the pleading in his eyes, the way his stomach clenched as he rolled his hips against her fingers. Satisfied at last, she pulled out of him.
“Where do you want me?” he asked, breathless.
She contemplated while she dripped oil down the quartz piece, stroking it in her palm to warm it. “Like this is good, but I wanna take you from behind, too.”
“Fuck…okay. Yeah.”
She grinned. “That sound good?”
“Please just fuck me.”
There was a bite of impatience in his tone and she had the urge to scold him, but she couldn’t deny that she really did want to…well, fuck him. So with no more than a warning glance she settled herself between his legs and lined the tip of the quartz up. Obediently he hooked his hands under his knees, drawing his thighs up to his chest. That made her mouth go completely dry. She’d always had a good memory, an eye for detail that allowed her to memorise maps after seeing them only once. In that moment, she thanked the Maker for that blessing—she knew she would be able to recall in perfect accuracy the sight of Dawes laid out before her, his eyes wide and pleading, waiting for her to fuck him.
He shuddered. “Lace…Lace, please…”
There was no way she could deny him a moment longer. Once more she sought toward the strap with her magic, shuddering as sensation came to her. With all the oil and preparation it was almost too easy to press inside, her mouth dropping open as she felt him around her. An inch, and she forced herself to back off a little, taking it slow, savouring the view as his eyelids fluttered and he uttered a small gasp. She settled her palms on his waist, her gaze raking down his body, admiring every inch of him. His muscles, his body hair, every scar that crossed him. His cock twitched as she sunk deeper, easing in and out, slow and agonising.
It was only then it sort of caught up to her. She was fucking Dawes. Dawes Mercar. She was fucking him. The man she loved, the man who tried to hide his care behind layers of indifference and snappishness. Who killed without hesitation, who had saved the world alongside her. And there he was, spread out below her with a pinched brow and his mouth hanging open, slack with pleasure, his gaze full of adoration.
“Wow,” she breathed, and when she sunk all the way to the harness she revelled in the moan it coaxed from him. Buried so deep, soft, tight, all-encompassing. “I’m going to make you come,” she said, and if it weren’t for her shortness of breath it would have been matter-of-fact. “Just like this.”
All he managed was a whimper, and her chest blazed with heat. She folded over him, wrapping her arm around his waist and tugging him against her until he arched prettily against the sheets. He gasped, maybe surprised with how much weight she could bear, but she was single-minded. She rolled her hips, guiding him, building up to a slow and smooth pace. She could feel him around her, the sensations muddled but there—already she was making a mess of the inside of the harness.
“Yes, Lace,” he gasped. “Yes, please—like that, that angle, oh fuck—”
Her breath came in short rasps as she fucked him, making note of that angle. Unable to resist, she reached up to slip her thumb into his mouth. He sucked eagerly, his tongue sliding around the digit, moaning hard.
“You really do take it so well,” she mused. “I’ll have to do this more often.”
He nodded fervently. Without wasting a moment, she slipped her thumb out and moved to his nipple, smoothing circles around it. At this he arched even further, his arms flying up to grip the headboard, his biceps flexing. Her leverage wasn’t so good like this, with one arm stretched up to tease his nipple, but Dawes didn’t seem to care. He planted his feet and met each thrust with an enthusiasm that made her mouth dry. Her Stone sense couldn’t pass on sensations of warmth or pleasure, but that hardly mattered. Heat still pooled low in her belly, her face warm from the sound of her hips meeting the back of his thighs. Dawes was gasping, moaning, so loud she was glad for the empty fields around their little cottage.
“You never sounded like this in the Lighthouse,” she said, breathing hard. “I didn’t realise you were just being polite.”
He answered with one eye screwed shut, his hands white-knuckled where they gripped the headboard. “More, Lace, please—faster—”
“Well, I’ll have to turn you over, because—”
She couldn’t even finish her sentence before he was slowing down, his palm on her hip to push her away, a little twitch in the muscles around his eye as she slipped out of him. Lace sat back on her heels, watching in awe as with clearly shaking limbs he rolled onto his front, lifted his hips, and pressed his chest into the mattress. The arch of his back made her jaw drop.
“That’s good,” she said faintly, and without even thinking rotated the strap until it curved downward. She snatched the oil flask and let a thin stream coat the piece, lathering it over the entire length. Trying to ignore how much she was trembling, she slid a hand over his hip to take a firm grip of his waist. For a moment all she did was admire the view while he stared over his shoulder at her with desperation in his eyes.
“No touching,” she reminded him as she lined herself up again. The slide was easy, and she sank all the way to leather with little resistance. Dawes moaned, muffled into the pillow, balling the sheets in his fists. Many things ran through her head at the sight before her. She couldn’t quite sort through them, but several were just about the way his sweat-slicked back rippled with muscle, the way he arched so deliciously, or even the way he looked at her, desperate, tears glinting in the corners of his eyes. Buried inside him, she gripped that narrow waist of his, and rolled her hips. He shuddered beneath her.
“So beautiful,” she whispered.
Beyond those two words, she wasted not a moment before building up her rhythm once more until she was fucking him just as hard as he asked for. Every thrust drove him into the bed until he was almost up against the headboard, nothing but a sustained moan interspersed with Tevene curses falling from his lips. Her own pleasure built unexpectedly—just the feel of him around her coiling heat low in her gut. Faster, deeper, the slap of her hips against his ass so loud it brought a blush to her cheeks. But she’d do anything he asked, really—there was never a question about it, even if she enjoyed making him beg for it first. With her nails she raked down his back, mindful to avoid the tracks of his scar, and drew forth from him a new sound that could have been a prolonged ‘yes’ or something more animalistic. Without slowing she took her nails to the back of his thighs next, and he whimpered high and loud.
“Fuck, Lace—oh fuck—”
He was breathless, his voice barely more than a whine. Something took hold of her, an urge to coax even more sounds from him, to drive him mad with pleasure. She gripped his hips and bore down on him, shoving him into the mattress. His legs collapsed beneath him and with fresh vigour she thrust as hard and deep as she dared. Immediately she was rewarded as he let out what was close to a yell before he muffled himself in the pillows. Lace’s lungs burned but she kept going, every thrust cutting staccato gasps through his moans. She wondered if she could make herself come like this, with just the sensation of him clenching around the quartz, of the sounds he was making, of the sweat glistening over his skin.
“Lace, I’m—” His words stretched into a wordless groan and he cried out, writhing and jerking beneath her. “Fuck, fuuuck—”
“Yes, Dawes,” she gasped. “That’s it…beautiful, you’re so…”
She lost her words as he shuddered beneath her, moaning harsh and guttural into the pillows. She fucked him through his orgasm until he flung a hand back to tap against her thigh. She slowed, her breathing ragged. With her cheeks burning with a flush, she gripped his ass, her thumbs digging in so she could see everything as she pulled out.
Dawes lay there panting, his head turned to the side and his eyes closed. She ran gentle fingers over his thighs and down his back where raised red lines from her nails were already coming up. Love burned fiercely through her to see him laid out like that, shining with sweat, his back heaving while he caught his breath. She leaned down to press her lips in a line along his spine as far as she could reach, tasting salt.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, then rolled onto his side. With his eyes till fighting to focus he looked down at himself. “Ah, shit.”
Lace followed his gaze, biting her lip. He’d made a mess of the sheets and his stomach. Warmth surged through her that she was able to make him come like that, practically untouched. Unable to resist, she coaxed him to his back and crawled between his thighs.
“Amata,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair. “That—”
He cut off with a moan as she took his flagging cock in her hand and swiped her tongue up the length of it. Then over his stomach, almost greedy as she lapped up his spend. He twitched and shuddered beneath her, and as she returned to his cock he didn’t tell her to stop. Only let his head lull to the side, watching her with soft eyes and a slack jaw as she laid him on her tongue and closed her lips around him. His hips juddered beneath her, and his brows pinched together as if he were in pain. Still, she ran her tongue over the head of his cock, making him jerk and suck in a gasp. Next time she’d tease him more, see how far she could go until he told her to stop.
For now, she came off him and whispered, “You’re incredible. I’m going to do this again and again, as many nights as you’ll let me.” She hummed, swaying her hips. “And as many mornings.”
“Yes, Amata, yes” he breathed. He reached down, running his knuckles down her cheek. He was shaking. “Nothing would make me happier.”
She pressed a kiss against the crease of his hip, smiling up at him. “Maybe I’ll put you on my lap. Let you set the pace.”
“I like it fast,” he murmured, and it had the taste of a warning. “I don’t want the harness straps to hurt you—”
“And I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, and gently pinched his side. “All I need you to do is take what you want, as fast as you want. No thinking.”
He took a shuddering breath, and his gaze darkened. “Sit up. Your back against me.”
She tilted her head with a smile as he pushed himself up, shifting back until he was sitting against the headboard. “Got a plan, huh?”
“You could say that.” He held out his arms. “C’mere. Please.”
She couldn’t refuse, not while his gaze was so heavy with want. Not when he said please like that. She made to reach for the buckles of the harness, but he stilled her fingers. Excitement fluttered in her chest. It wasn’t often Dawes took the lead like this, at least not without a few dozen words about what he planned to do to her. She sat up and scooched back between his thighs, giggling as she nestled against his chest. They were both sweaty and sticky but she hardly cared.
“Now what’re you—” She broke off with a gasp as he took her breast in one hand, pinching her nipple gently. He pressed a line of kisses up the side of her neck until he reached her ear, his teeth catching on the lobe and his tongue darting out. She arched back into him.
It somehow always astounded her how attentive Dawes could be. Beneath his hands, she never had to instruct him more than once on how she liked to be touched. He’d always been bold with where his fingers explored, squeezing the fat of her hips and brushing his nails down her skin—she’d discovered several new things she liked, too. Places where his teeth sinking in shot pleasure down her spine. Other places where the softest brush of his lips made her writhe.
This was no different. He worked her up all over again, tweaking her nipples and sucking marks all down her shoulders. She rolled her hips, desperately seeking any kind of friction within her harness, her hand flinging up to tangle in his hair.
“Dawes, just—just do what you’re thinking—”
“Mhm,” he murmured as he licked and nipped at her skin. Then one of his hands trailed down to loosen one side of the harness, and with little flair he slipped his fingers between her legs. He groaned beside her ear. “Fuck, so wet, Lace.”
“Well, yeah,” she gasped. “You looked so good like that, on your front.”
“Tell me what you liked,” he said, gathering up her slick arousal and teasing around her clit.
Lace let her head fall back, closing her eyes and relishing his touch. “Your back, how much you can arch—” She bit down on a moan as he pinched her nipple. “Your muscles, the way you looked back at me…your waist…th-the sounds you made—”
Dawes moved his fingers in a gentle circle over her clit, the slick sounds bringing heat to her cheeks. Already turned on beyond imagining by fucking him, she knew if she let him, he could undo her in seconds.
Then his other hand trailed down her stomach and settled at the base of the quartz piece.
“Send your Stone sense down,” he whispered, not pausing for a moment beneath the harness.
“Wh-what?”
“I want you to feel this.”
Breathing hard, she reached up to settle her hand on the back of his neck, then sent a tendril of her magic down. Immediately she could feel his fingers, resting lightly at the base of the piece, the sensation melding with the pleasure he coaxed between her legs. She watched, her breath catching, as he began to move his hand. Slowly, his fingers trailing over the tip of the quartz, then encompassing it entirely. Lace felt her mouth go lax, pleasure coiling tight low in her gut beneath his careful hands.
“How is it?” he murmured into her skin, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
“It’s—ah—” She gripped his hair, her hips bucking against her will. She could barely speak, all her attention on his hands. “I can—it feels like—” She cut off with a groan as his fingers moved more insistently.
Dawes said nothing else, only smiling into the crook of her neck. Lace lost herself to it, panting, her fingers tangled in his hair. With desperation she took her nipple in her other hand, pinching and twisting, almost too harsh. Against her back, she felt Dawes’s cock stir again, and just knowing he was gaining as much pleasure from this as she was sent a spark shooting down her spine. His hand a tight fist around the quartz, his fingers moving faster and faster.
“More,” she gasped. “More-more-more—”
He bit down on the soft space between her neck and shoulder, coaxing a choked moan from her. The sounds of his fingers slipping over her clit were loud, almost matched by his other hand stroking off the strap, still slick with oil. She abandoned her grip on his hair to take both of her breasts in her hands, heat coiling urgent and unstoppable within her. Her Stone sense was so entwined with the pleasure he was coaxing from her that for a moment, she could swear the strap felt real. And that was enough.
Crying out his name, she lurched over the precipice of her orgasm, bucking and jerking beneath his relentless ministrations. He whispered to her in Tevene, and though she understood none of those delicious murmurings, the tone of his voice told her enough. Beneath it all, the tether of her magic threatened to come unbound, and she held it in a tight leash. All that escaped her were wisps of lyrium glow, drowning out the candlelight.
All at once she was too sensitive, and she dragged his hands away from her, panting hard and watching the last tendrils of her magic dissipate into the air. With her muscles no more useful than apple butter noodles, she shifted clumsily around to grab Dawes’s face and kiss him deeply. He ran his hands softly down her back, her hips, her thighs, his fingers leaving trails of static beneath her skin.
Lace puffed out a contented sigh. “Wow.”
“Like it?”
“That was something else.”
Dawes chuckled, squeezing her ass. “Good to know.”
She looked up at him, his green eyes glinting in the candlelight and his expression tired and soft. It had seemed impossible not that long ago to even imagine a night like this—just them, in a cottage in Ferelden, Thedas content to leave them be for more than a night.
“I love you,” she said softly, her heart clenching as its beat wound down.
“Love you too, Lace.” He kissed her, all sweetness, his hand resting on her hip. “I’ll um…change the sheets. In a bit.”
Lace snorted. “Unless I decide you have another one in you, love. The laundry can wait.”
“Then I’ll make us a snack,” he said with a grin.
Immediately she rolled out of his way, slapping his ass as he got up from the bed. Dappled in soft candlelight, she admired him as he crossed the room. Her lip caught in her teeth as her gaze traced down the smooth line of his back, his muscles glinting with a sheen of sweat. The way his waist tapered to his narrow hips. The shape of his ass.
The damned snacks could wait.
She surged from the bed, grabbing him around the waist and giggling as she tugged him back, delighting in that laugh he reserved just for her.