Reverse-Cowgirl Diplomacy

Her second day at Ostagar, Elissa made her way back to Cailan’s tent. If her steps were mincing, it was with very good reason. Not only was she sore from the abrupt rending of her virginity on Cailan’s bed the previous evening, but now her ass was also tender, courtesy of the punishing reaming Duncan had given her when she refused to allow him to come in her cunt for fear of conceiving a child that might not look like Cailan’s issue. He'd started out with exquisite care, preparing her with his fingers and oil, and her feral, guttural moans when she felt his cock push inch by inch into into her virgin ass had been loud enough that he'd been forced to cover her mouth with his hand lest she wake the entire encampment. But once he'd been seated fully within her tight rear passage, once she had adapted and begun pushing back into his thrusts, he'd given over his restraint and taken her, driving into her ass the weeks of repressed passion they'd suffered along the journey to Ostagar.

Despite the discomfort, she felt marvelous. Replete, fulfilled, thoroughly, sublimely fucked. All the endless aching years of virginity were behind her, and she could now use her body, all of her body, the way she wished to, the way she’d been trained to. She could now practice her arts fully, revel in her sensuality, unrestrained by anything other than the need for discretion.

And now that she no longer had to play the chaste maiden, she could allow Cailan to begin “teaching” her to enjoy his lovemaking, to give him pleasure. If she happened to prove an apt and imaginative pupil, well, he ought to be thrilled to discover his new bride was passionate and eager and everything that Anora was not.

Unfortunately, such lessons would have to wait for another time, which was the news she was on her way to impart.

Cailan’s guard had apparently been given new instructions regarding her, for he bowed and quickly lifted the flap to Cailan’s tent to admit her without first requesting permission. Within, she found Cailan and a large, dark man she knew only by reputation. Teyrn Loghain. They were bent over the table, maps spread out before them, heatedly debating strategies.

Aware that Loghain would need to be handled very delicately until Cailan officially set about the matter of repudiating Anora, Elissa bowed deeply, giving no indication of familiarity.

“Your Majesty, I come bearing a message from Warden-Commander Duncan.”

The first thing she noted was that Loghain’s eyes flicked briefly to the tent flap and the unseen guard outside, and Elissa’s mouth went dry. She cursed Cailan for his impulsiveness in giving her such access. Loghain was no fool who would fail to note the lack of protocol.

The second thing she noted was that he was a huge man. Admittedly, she was on the petite side for a human, but he dwarfed her. He seemed to fill the tent with his presence. He looked as though he could break her without giving a thought to the matter.

Loghain was dangerous.

“What’s this?” Loghain demanded. “Do the Grey Wardens now have unrestricted access to the king? Cailan, you allow these Wardens too much liberty.”

“The Grey Wardens are essential to our victory here, Loghain,” Cailan chided. “Who better to have unrestricted entry into my presence? Besides, if you weren’t aware, this here is Lady Elissa Cousland, youngest child of the late Teyrn Cousland of Highever. Her rank is equal to your own, Loghain, and you have access.”

“My understanding is that Grey Wardens don’t hold titles of nobility.”

“In light of the grave injustice done to the Couslands when Highever was overtaken by Arl Howe, as well as the fact that so few Couslands remain alive, it may be necessary to make an exception in this case, as it has now become a matter of honor to restore the teyrnir to the Couslands no matter what their circumstances.” Cailan shook his head. “However, nothing can be decided until after the battle when Fergus Cousland returns from the Wilds. There’s little point in discussing it now. Leave us for now, Loghain. I will hear Duncan’s message and reconvene with you after the midday meal.”

Elissa gave Loghain a polite nod of her head as he brushed past her in the confines of the tent, overwhelmed for a moment at his sheer physical presence in such close proximity. Then, as the tent flap fell closed behind him, she turned to Cailan, who was smiling brightly at her.

“Dear heart! I’m so glad you came to me today!” He enveloped her in his arms, awkward as such an embrace was with him in his gleaming armor. Her golden king. “You have been all I can think of since last night. Are you well? Please tell me I did not hurt you too badly. I shall simply die of remorse if you don’t. Tell me you have no resentment toward me for my utterly boorish behavior.”

“None, Y--Cailan,” she gave him a shy smile and stammered breathlessly, “I...could never resent you, my--my king!”

“Oh, thank the Maker!” He pressed a fervent kiss to her brow. “Despite our wretched beginning, it is my deepest hope that you shall learn to enjoy my caresses and find pleasure in our marriage bed. I was not lying, you know. I truly am a good lover, when I’m not being an ogre.”

“Of that I have no doubt, sire.” She blushed becomingly, averting her gaze as though embarrassed. “Dare I admit that what happened last night has been constantly on my mind as well? And the memories have not all been unpleasant. There were moments when I was quite...swayed by your touch.”

A note of deep, completely masculine pride entered Cailan’s voice, and his hands began to roam her body in its tight encasement of supple leather. “Were you now? That’s very reassuring. Perhaps I ought to investigate just how swayed you were.”

“But I thought you didn’t want to risk compromising my reputation,” she murmured demurely, an aching pang of desire tightening her tender cunt.

“Ah! Royal prerogative is a beautiful thing, dear heart,” he laughed. “I may change my mind on a whim and no one would dare to question it. I wish to feel you naked against me, and teach you how to ride atop me and find your pleasure. I wish to take my time and hear you scream my name as I spend inside you.”

She closed her eyes and let the hot blood of arousal color her face. Let him think her a blushing maid, but she would let him see the arousal his words awoke. “I think I would...no, you will think me immodest!”

“I’ve seen your modesty, and it’s becoming,” he murmured, drawing near, cupping her face and bringing her lips close to hers. “Now I wish to taste your passion. Say you want me, darling Elissa.”

“I think I do! Oh, my dear king, I do!” she declared breathlessly, opening her lips and surrendering to his heated kiss.

Thankfully, he had not dressed in full armor yet, and her armor was a much easier affair to discard. Soon, she stood before him bare for the first time, and his scowled when he saw the bruises his fingers had left on her body. Reaching for him, she stroked her hand across his forehead, rubbing away his frown. “I shall treasure them, Cailan,” she vowed, “for they mean that I am yours.”

When he met her eyes, awed by her words, she knew she possessed him utterly.

As naked as she, he sat upon a wooden chair by the table and beckoned to her. “Come, dear heart. Come and ride me.”

Elissa let him pull her into his lap, straddling his lap. His cock stood upright, pressed between their bodies as Cailan kissed her hungrily, and she abandoned her false modesty and let herself return the kiss with the full measure of her passion, greedily sucking and nibbling at his lips and tongue, kissing the golden stubble on his chin and neck. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples as she writhed upon his lap, making no effort to subdue or moderate her response. It was glorious to allow herself to enjoy his touch, to discard the need to affect reluctance or uncertainty. When he bent her backward and his lips closed over her nipple, she eagerly embraced him, pulling his head to her breast and pressing wantonly against his face.

“Do you like that, my darling?” he murmured as his fingers found her dripping cunt and began to stroke.

“Yes! Oh, sweet Andraste, yes!”

He had not exaggerated his prowess. What had been an act of brute force the night before was now one of artistry. He masturbated her with expert fingers, light, teasing touches alternating with the perfect amount of force and friction until she thrashed and moaned upon his lap, begging for more. Only then did he slip his finger inside her.

She did not have to exaggerate her hiss of discomfort.

“Is that all right, my sweet? I can stop if you wish...” but when he would have withdrawn his hand in concern, she protested.

“Maker, no!”

“I do not wish to hurt you again.”

“Please, Your--Cailan. It feels good. Please don’t stop...”

With an eager groan, he thrust two fingers deep within her and crooked them, and Elissa nearly tumbled from his lap at the sudden surge of pleasure so intense it was nearly too much, too overwhelming. It was a feeling unlike anything she had ever known. If an orgasm was a bolt of lightning, then surely this was a booming crash of thunder in a summer storm made into actual physical sensation.

So confident had she been in the thoroughness of her tutelage in the sensual arts that it had never occurred to her that anything he might do would take her by surprise. But penetration and the sensations that it could produce had never been a practical part of her instruction. Elissa stared at the king in amazement.

“Maker’s breath, what was that?”

Laughing at her response, Cailan held her tighter, rubbing her clit for a long moment, and then he did it again, not relenting when she thrashed. Again, and again, bending his fingers and pushing on some spot she’d never known existed until she was certain she was going to come apart. The next brush of his thumb across her clitoris brought her to a sobbing climax that was so much deeper and more intense than any she’d ever known. The walls of her cunt had not stopped pulsating around his fingers when he withdrew his hand and gripped her waist, urging her up.

“Now ride!” he commanded, releasing her with one hand to position his cock. Still shuddering with aftershocks, she impaled herself gratefully, ignoring the residual ache for the sheer joy of being filled with his cock.

She let him guide her with his hands on her hips those first few strokes, to maintain the illusion that she needed to be taught, but soon she took over, found her own rhythm and force, she ground herself against him, rolling her hips each time she took him to the hilt. His cock knocked at the entrance to her womb and she drove onto it, her thrusts ever more wild, welcoming that hard, bruising sensation deep within. It was intense bordering upon painful, frightening and wonderful all at once. It was the very essence of everything she had craved.

It was being fucked.

She forgot false modesty, forgot her role, forgot to worry what impression she might be making. Instead, she fucked him. No, she fucked herself upon his cock, using him in a selfish quest for her own pleasure. But he was using her back, thrusting up and into her, adding the force of his hands on her hips to drive her harder each time she plunged onto him.

Cailan stiffened, grasped her tightly against his hard, sweating chest. His fingers found her clit and brought her, swallowing her screams with his kisses. Seconds later he came with short jerks of his hips, grunting against her neck.

Elissa embraced him, trembling with aftershocks of her own climax. Her arms twined about his shoulders and she let herself melt against him as he twitched and softened inside her. She let herself feel like the loving and beloved bride she portrayed in the arms of her king. She had worried she might be bored in his bed, but now she had no such concerns. He might be an easily manipulated fool, but he was a thoroughly pleasant bedmate. She would enjoy being his queen.

She sponged herself clean of the sweat of passion and the seed leaking down her thighs as she related to Cailan the mission she was required to undertake into the Korcari Wilds. He frowned, and she could tell he was unhappy with the plan, but thankfully he said no word against it. He helped her back into her armor amidst adoring kisses and made her promise to come straight to him when she returned from the Wilds the following day.

She was passing Teyrn Loghain’s tent on her way back to Duncan’s camp when a hard hand grabbed her and dragged her inside the tent.

“Do you think I don’t know what you’re up to?” Loghain’s voice sneered in her ear. His hand was clamped over her mouth, his other arm holding her immobile with her back to his chest. She struggled, but he may as well have been made of iron.

Finally he moved the hand over her mouth enough to let her speak. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded arrogantly. “You may be the king’s father-in-law, ser, but I am your equal and you have no right nor authority to manhandle me!”

“Cailan may be ignorant of the rumors about the Couslands, but I am not,” Loghain stated bluntly. “Your mother was a whore, your father little better than a pimp. It’s said the lot of you fuck each other when you can’t find anyone else.”

Elissa shivered then. His expression was disdainful, but she felt a surprising tremor of arousal at his repugnance. He was disgusted by her...and it made her want him.

“Rumors are not necessarily facts, ser,” she said coolly. “Surely you, as liege of the only other teyrnir on all of Ferelden, know all too intimately how vicious gossip can be.”

“Duncan brought you here to seduce the king,” he accused.

“Duncan seems far too concerned with the Blight to be bothered with whom the king happens to bed.”

“No if it means adding more impetus to compel Cailan to disregard the advice of his councilors and bring in reinforcements from Orlais.”

Elissa felt a moment of relief. He hadn’t yet truly grasped her objective.

“I have no time to listen to paranoid theories.”

“You don’t deny you’re crawling into his bed.”

“I don’t trouble myself to deny accusations that have no business being spoken.”

“If I shoved my hand into your cunt right now, it would come away sopping with his spunk.”

Her knees weakened at the thought.

“If you did such a thing, I think you would be hard pressed to explain to the king why you are sexually assaulting Grey Warden recruits--not to mention young noblewomen--mere yards away from his own tent.”

Loghain thrust her away from him in disgust, causing her to stumble. She caught herself and set her chin at an regal angle. “I shall forgive your boorish manners this one time only, Teyrn Loghain,” she declared recklessly. “But I’d advise you not to make an enemy of me. My vendetta against Arl Howe isn’t so consuming that I can’t find room for another name to add to the list. The day may come when you find yourself reliant upon my mercy.”

There was something ugly in Loghain’s eyes as she gave him one last contemptuous glare and then turned and stalked from his tent.

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