Reverse-Cowgirl Diplomacy

Elissa had expected Alistair to retreat after all that had passed between them in Denerim, after the searing kiss that had left her so shaken, the solemn confession that had confused and upset her. She thought all of it would make him run from her, hide in confusion--or possibly just disgust--and that she'd be able to try to gain some distance and perspective on her feelings for him.

Instead, he gave her a rose.

"I was just thinking...here I've been doing all this complaining, and you haven't been having a good time of it yourself," he said softly. "You've had none of the good experience of being a Grey Warden since your Joining. Not a word of thanks or congratulations. It's all been death and fighting and tragedy."

"No, Alistair," Elissa shook her head in denial. "Don't...don't try to make what I do some noble sacrifice on my part that gives me no pleasure...."

"Is it really that far from the truth?" he asked seriously. "Not that I don't think you don't...enjoy yourself most of the time, but I saw you in the Circle Tower. That wasn't about pleasure. But you did it anyway, because whatever your methods, you want to stop this Blight as badly as I do. Duncan once said to me that the Grey Wardens do what they must. I wasn't really paying attention at the time, but now I'm starting to see...you're doing just that."

She had no answer for that, and taking her silence for encouragement, Alistair continued, "I'm not saying I always approve. I'm not saying it doesn't trouble me sometimes, or that I don't think there might not be another way. But...you've gotten us this far, and it hasn't always been easy or pleasant for you, and I appreciate that. I never even thanked you for saving Connor and Isolde. So I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this...darkness."

It had brought tears to her eyes as she gave him a sappy smile, and to mask his own confusion and uncertainty, he forgot himself and turned to flirting, the way he had so often done before Redcliffe.

"Now, if we could right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits, I'd appreciate it."

Even knowing he was just flirting, she couldn't suppress the surge of excitement his words awoke within her. "You don't really mean that," she said with a shake of her head.

He drew closer, almost touching her, but not quite. "Maybe not yet," he said, his voice a low, sexy rumble that tightened everything within her from the waist down. "But maybe soon."

She hated how easily she could be swayed by him, how deeply he fascinated her. His purity, his innocence were alluring. His self-restraint was exotic, for men had always come easily to her. Even that accursed self-righteous streak of his that told him concepts of right and wrong were cast in iron, intrigued her. As a virgin, she'd never had that. She had always been sexually aware, just as she had always been conscious of a certain degree of fluidity in her ethics.

She tried to tell herself her infatuation was simply due to the challenge his reticence posed, that it was a perverse desire to make a conquest of the one man who continued to deny her, that she would quickly become bored if she ever did bed him, and yet....

...She knew she lied. If she merely wanted a conquest, his approval wouldn't be so damned important to her. She didn't want him to fuck her. She wanted him to love her.

She was mad. That was the only answer for it.

She didn't understand it. She was certain after she confessed to him that she had whored herself out in Denerim that would be the end of it, that he would want nothing more to do with her. Sometimes she thought that was why she had told him; perhaps her honesty with him wasn't so much a desire not to hide as it was an effort to drive him away before her feelings got any more intense.

Instead, it had the opposite effect.

As their party set off west across the Bannorn once more, it became apparent that Alistair was done with hiding. He no longer fled when she was with Zevran, but stood his ground. He did not try to force himself between them, and yet every look, every twitch told her he was waiting for her to come the rest of the way to him. And she wanted to, but she didn't dare. Until she could be certain he wouldn't recoil in horror the next time she decided sex was the most expedient way to meet her ends, she couldn't close that distance.

In many ways, it was more maddening than his wariness had been. Now she knew she could have him, if she only were brave enough to take the risk.

Zevran noticed it as well. "I have no objections to prolonged foreplay," he said wryly one evening, following Elissa into her tent when she retired early to remove herself from Alistair's temptingly close presence, "but this dance you and Alistair are doing is beginning to get tedious."

"Shut up," she growled, pushing him down upon the bedroll and straddling him. "It's not foreplay."

"No?" Zevran gave a throaty chuckle as she pulled furiously at his laces and buckles. "Are you telling me that if you could choose to be in any tent in the entire camp at this very moment, you would choose to be here?"

"Of course not," she answered, deflecting the point he was trying to make with a mischievous smile. "I'd be in Sten's tent."

"Ah, I see. I have misread you all along, thinking it was the templar you wanted. Instead, you harbor a secret passion for the Qunari," Zevran nodded, affecting a thoughtful frown. "Well, I cannot say I blame you. He is quite large. I could be tempted myself."

"You have no idea," she hummed, giving a small laugh of success when one of the buckles on his armor yielded to her efforts.

"Oh? You speak as though you have some knowledge."

"I do, though I'm not entirely certain how accurate that knowledge is."

"Now this I must hear," Zevran said eagerly, gently pushing her off him to sit up. "If I promise to remove my armor more efficiently that you're managing to do it, will you tell me what you know?"

As he stripped, Elissa related to him the details of the time she'd spent in the Fade with Sten, dwelling with great relish on both the Qunari's size and the quantity of seed with which he'd deluged her. By the time she was finished, Zevran's eyes were glowing with intrigue and arousal.

"How big did you say he was?"

Elissa picked up his hand, examining it and pressed his fingers until they folded into a fist. Studying it for a moment, she finally shook her head. "No. Larger."

"Ah!" Zevran closed his eyes in rapture. "Next time I enter the Fade to dream, I want such an experience," he effused, sitting beside her fully nude, his erect cock standing testament to the truth of his words.

"But I'm not sure what was real," she said with a discontented pout as Zevran began to loosen her own armor. "It was a dream, after all, his dream, and males of just about any race are prone to...exaggeration."

"I see," Zevran hummed, managing to unbuckle and remove her cuirass much more effectively than she had his own in her frustration. "And the uncertainty haunts you."

"That and the challenge," she shrugged. "In the dream, taking him within me was a rather extreme effort. I'm not sure I dare, in reality. I suspect he can be gentler than he claims to be, but it would be negligent to take the risk with my babe."

"Then we shall simply have to be sure to prepare you well," Zevran purred, sliding a hand between her legs to finger her wet cleft.

Elissa laughed, spreading her legs for him. "As intriguing as that may sound, I sincerely doubt I'll ever have the opportunity."

"You must make the opportunity," Zevran said firmly. "If I were to make the offer, no doubt Sten would pummel me. No, if he likes anyone beside the mabari, he likes you. It must be you. You must take him all inside you, and return to me filled with and covered in his seed so that I may see and taste for myself the truth of your report."

"And just how am I supposed to manage that?" she asked as Zevran pushed her down upon her back. He lay between her legs and peeled away her smallclothes, his breath warm against her wet folds.

"You will find a way. I shall make a dare of it. I dare you to seduce the Qunari, if you can." He punctuated his declaration with a long, firm sweep of his tongue up her cleft.

"That hardly seems fair," she protested, clutching her fingers in his hair. "And just what is your forfeit if I meet this dare? Or do I get to present a challenge to you as well?"

"And what would you challenge me to do?" Zevran asked calmly.

"I don't know. Just who in camp have you been harboring a secret passion for? Besides Sten, of course. And don't even think of proposing it be Alistair. Leliana? Morrigan?" Zevran gave a derisive snort and dipped his head low again. His tongue was snaking its way into her cunt when she asked lightly, "Wynne?"

His eyes rose to hers, so hot with desire that she gasped. "Really?" she asked slowly, her eyebrows arching.

He gave a wistful sigh. "It truly is a magical bosom," he murmured longingly.

"Then that shall be your challenge," she said. "I'll attempt to seduce Sten if you attempt to seduce Wynne. Though it still seems rather unfair. Your challenge doesn't have the physical impediments posed by seducing Sten."

"I have said we will prepare you, yes?" he asked, his voice muffled against her cunt as his tongue delved deep. His thumb found her clitoris and she jerked at that first electric jolt of sensation, and Zevran gave a wicked laugh. He pulled back and slid two fingers inside her, fast and deep, and his lips sealed over her clit, pulling and sucking as his fingers fucked her. Her first orgasm came quickly and easily, her muscles clenching and rippling around his fingers as she cried out softly. It only encouraged him to pick up the pace, adding a third finger to fuck her vigorously while she shuddered and moaned. The repeated curl of his fingers against that intensely sensitive point at the front of her sheath, coupled with hard strokes of his tongue against her nub, soon sent her tumbling over the brink once again.

Zevran placed gentle kisses to the insides of her thighs as she recovered, dazed for a moment, feeling as though her entire body had turned to liquid. He withdrew from her slowly. "Stay here," he ordered, and turned away to dig through their packs.

He retrieve the familiar vial of oil and smiling, Elissa began to pull her knees to her chest, exposing her ass, only to have him push them back down. "No," Zevran said with a shake of his head. "Not this time. Spread them wide for me."

Watching him curiously, she did as he bade, letting her knees fall out to the sides, splaying herself wantonly before him. Zevran uncorked the vial and drizzled oil down his fingers, coating his hand before he set the vial aside. Settling himself between her legs, he pushed three fingers deep inside her cunt. Elissa moaned softly, flexing around him, lifting her hips to invite him deeper, but again he pushed her back down. "Stay still," he instructed. "Relax."

As ever, passivity was difficult for her, but her curiosity overrode her inclination to be active, and she settled, willing herself to be pliant. Slowly, Zevran fucked her with his fingers, twisting and pumping until he felt the last tension leave her thighs and hips, and then he withdrew his oiled hand. When it returned, he had folded in his small fourth finger, pressing it in with the others.

"Ohhh...." Elissa sighed, feeling herself stretch almost to the point of pain. He withdrew his fingers, turned his hand, pushed them in again, and they slid in deeper, and deeper still on the next stroke. She let herself drift on the sensation of being so deliciously filled, of stretching and yielding. He was in no rush, slowly and deliberately fucking her with four fingers. Deeper, he pressed, ever deeper. She felt his knuckles against her pubic bone, and she was certain if he pushed in any deeper it would hurt, and yet she craved it, craved the fullness of his fingers inside her. What had felt like too much when he'd added the fourth finger now seemed not to be enough.

"Maker, yesss...." she hissed when he twisted his hand and pushed in again, even deeper than before. It was beginning to burn, and she embraced it, yearned for it, wanted his hand buried deep inside her even if it meant pain. Again, he pushed, and again, and each time the burning sensation dissipated, his fingers slid in deeper and it awakened all over again.

"Zevran, please," she begged, biting her lip as she once again felt his knuckles, seeming impossibly wide and hard, butt up against the bones of her pelvis.

"Tell me what you want," he coaxed in a low, sexy whisper, pulling back, twisting his bunched fingers this way and that inside her cunt.

"All of it," she whimpered, shifting her hips restlessly, willing him to fill her with his fingers again.

"All of what, my greedy Warden?" he asked, teasing her with a brush of his thumb against her clit.

"Your hand," Elissa moaned. "Fuck me with your hand."

She mewled with dismay when he pulled his hand out of her entirely, but he merely added a generous quantity of oil to that already shining sleekly on his skin and then his fingers were once more pushing inside her, prying her open, twisting and plumbing. Again, his knuckles came up against her bone, and though he pushed, it seemed certain they could not pass through. He pulled back, folded his fingers more tightly together, rotated his hand slightly, changed his angle and slid then in again. When she once again felt the pressure against her pubic bone, he pushed against it, and pushed, and just when it seemed he must stop or break her, she felt the hard ridge of his knuckles slide slowly inside her.

"Oh, Maker!" she cried. She felt full, gloriously full, fuller than she could remember being except in unreality of Sten's dream.

"Look, sweet Warden," Zevran's accented voice curled around her like a warm flow of dark Antivan chocolate. "Sit up and look at my hand filling your beautiful cunt."

With effort, she pushed herself up on her elbows and peered down between her knees. As she did so, she felt every muscle tighten around his hand and groaned softly as it increased the sensation of fullness. Only his thumb remained outside, curving around her mound, resting beside her clitoris. She wanted it to move, wanted him to bring her to climax with his hand filling her.

"Make me come," she whispered, staring in awe.

"No, not yet," he answered. "Not until you have taken it all."

With his words, he slowly withdrew his hand, shining with oil and her own fluids, and when next he began to push his fingers inside her, his thumb was tucked into his palm.

Elissa's head fell back and she keened softly as the stinging, pulling feel of stretching resumed. He repeated the entire process, pushing slowly, steadily, withdrawing to add more oil and then sliding all five fingers back inside her cunt.

Again, she felt the press of his knuckles against her pubic bone, unbearably hard and unyielding, wider than ever before. It nudged and withdrew. His hand twisted and angled, and again it nudged and withdrew. Again, and again, and then suddenly that hard ridge of bones was passing inside her body, sliding through her stretched and loosened flesh. She cried out in triumph, her body shuddering and her skin dappled with the sweat of exertion, of endurance. She panted as though she'd run a great distance rather than lying there on her back. Impossibly, she felt her flesh closing around Zevran's hand, pulling him even deeper inside, and his fingers began to curl into a fist within her.

Her body quaked, hovering on the edge of orgasm, and she knew the smallest movement of his hand within her, the most minute pressure on her clitoris would send her screaming over the brink, but instead he simply sat there, waiting. When Elissa opened her eyes and dared to look at him, he was staring down between her legs. Moving carefully, she lifted her head again and looked down. Nothing but his wrist was visible outside her body. Impossible as it seemed, his whole hand was buried inside her.

Zevran's eyes met and held hers as he slowly, deliberately brought his mouth to her stretched cunt and swept his tongue along her throbbing clit.

The world exploded around her and she screamed, feeling her muscles pulse around Zevran's fisted hand. The spasms had not yet abated when he uncurled his fingers and began to withdraw, past that widest point, and then they returned, sliding inside her again, and another cascade of pleasure rocked her. Her head thrashed wildly, her hair clinging to her sweat-dampened skin.

"Do you like that, Warden?" his voice caressed her as his free hand found her nipple and tweaked it. "Do you like having my fist deep inside your sweet, quivering cunt?"

"Yes, oh, Maker yes!" she panted, another wave of shudders wracking her body. His arm began to move, slowly and carefully, as he pushed his fist in as far as he dared, then withdrew until the ridge of his knuckles was almost completely out. In a moment of coherent thought between waves of insensible pleasure, she understood he was exercising great caution because of her pregnancy. She wanted to beg him to let go and fuck her with his fist, but she refrained, knowing--if only just by the barest edge of awareness--that she was too caught up in pleasure to exercise any sort of judgment about what was safe and what was not.

With each cautious plunge of his hand, another orgasm washed over her. Each time she looked and saw his wrist there outside her body, another spasm shook her. She was trembling and exhausted by the time he finally slowly pulled his hand out. He rose up to his knees and sat on his heels, the tip of his cock mere inches from her cunt.

Taking up the oil, he spread a few drops on his cock and began to stroke.

"Watch," he growled, the tempo of his fist pumping and sliding along his shaft increasing as his hips began to plunge, driving his cock into the tight hole in the center of his fist. With his free hand, he reached down and spread open the slick, oiled lips of her gaping cunt. He aimed his cock and seconds later, thick waves of seed erupted from the tip. She felt it the first stream shoot inside her, and another spurt landed on her clit and began to trickle down along her cleft. Grunting, he plunged his cock into her loosened and relaxed sheath and spent the last spurts inside her, using his thumb on her nub to coax her to one last soft, shuddering climax.

Wearily, she let herself fall back, feeling the gentle burning and aching that told her she'd been well-fucked. Zevran sank down beside her, reaching down with one hand to toy lazily with the creamy seed coating her cunt, inside and out.

"Ah," he sighed. "There, you see? Now you have no excuses for not meeting the challenge I have set for you."

"I suppose not," she answered with a smile. "Perhaps your time might be better spent plotting how you're going to meet your own challenge. Wynne may turn out to be a hard woman to woo."

"True," he acknowledged, rising. As winter settled in, it was now too cold to go long without clothing once the sweat of passion cooled, and reluctantly she rose as well and they began to dress.

As they lay back down together, drawing their cloaks and furs around them, Zevran mused, "I think I shall miss this, Warden, once you and Alistair bring an end to your foreplay."

"I think I will, too," she said softly, unable to bring herself to say more. It was the first time they'd acknowledged that despite their vow of no complications, ending their dalliance would not be without an element of regret.

Despite Zevran's warmth at her back, sleep was a long time coming.