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Guilty Pleasures	By : TrillianN7 Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 10438 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Dragon Age: Origins is not mine, despite how much I wish I could claim Alistair. Sadly, Bioware and EA have that privilege. I am not making any profit from writing; I only bring enjoyment for myself and others.

Chapter List
- 1-Guilty Pleasures
- 1
Title: Guilty Pleasures

Author: Trillian N7

Summary: A Grey Warden seeking stress relief may not be alone in her explorations.

Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins

Pairings: Fem!Cousland/Alistair

Spoilers: No major plot elements.

Rating: Adult +

Disclaimer: Dragon Age: Origins is not mine, despite how much I wish I could claim Alistair. Sadly, Bioware and EA have that privilege. I am not making any profit from writing; I only bring enjoyment for myself and others.

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She had watched him since Ostagar, something about him intrigued her, perhaps his boyish nature or the supposed innocence in his actions. She wondered about that, was it just as show? For some reasons she was sure it wasn�t and, because of this, she was hesitant to make the first move. She didn�t want to scare him away. He meant too much to her, he was one of the few stable parts of her new life.
The choice to go to bed early was hers. The day had been long and she had felt particularly peevish after dinner. The closeness of him and the effort in resisting his charms, combined with the idle talk of their friends had driven her to seeking solitude.
She lay in her bedroll, listing to the voices outside, seeking out his voice in the conversation. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the words and the sound of his voice. Zevran was teasing him about something again, probably propositioning him. Luckily he was resistant and had no interest in the elf. At least she hoped he was as it would be such as waste otherwise.
Soon she was not focusing on the words, but just concentrating on the sensations that listing to him speak. Her hand wandered lower under the blankets and gently brushed across her opening, moving up towards her clitoris. She was already damp, just from sitting close to him at dinner. Her skin had burned under his touch as he reached across her lap to grab some more food. The close scent of his skin driving her crazy, the strange metallic yet musky smell she associated with him.
She kept stoking herself, gently rubbing circles around her clitoris, as she began to imagine being alone with him. Her teasing him with words till he blushed, before finally taking control and kissing him.
Clothes falling to the ground with soft kisses on bare skin, his stubble rough against her pale stomach as he slowly removed her gown, his calloused hands caressing her skin, massaging gently wherever they travelled. Her own hands tracing paths across his tanned chest, gently following the scars that she knew adorned his torso.
Alistair retired to his tent. He had hoped she would stay up; he loved the hours they spent just chatting about anything that came to their minds at the time. Usually it resulted in him embarrassed and her giggling, she had a knack of knowing how to get to him. Tonight at dinner she had sat close to him on a log, her thighs brushing against his and her voice laughing so close to his ear.
By the Maker, he should not be feeling this about her. She probably thought him a fool, he was always bumbling about her. He was never the suave, flattering gentleman he tried to be but she seemed to like his company, surprisingly, and maybe one day he would have the courage to admit it to her. To kiss her, just like he imagined, pulling her close with his arms encircling her waist.
Not surprisingly, he began to feel himself aroused. It was like his was a teenager at the Chantry again, all those hormones driving his body wild at their own will. And that is what it was like with her. At least as a Grey Warden there were less lay-brothers trying to scare him off scandalous thoughts. He grinned, over the years he still had full eyesight and never grown hair on his palms despite the many warnings against immoral behavious.
He loosened his belt and began to slowly rub his hand over his erection. In his mind she was in the tent, her hand caressing him softly.
She slowly removed her loose gown, revealing her pale skin flushed from the heat of the moment. That precious body, all his to admire and pleasure and, best of all, she wanted him.
With shaking hands he slowly reached forward and caressed her face and she looked shyly up at him, her hands removing his clothing which fell to the ground. She pulled him down onto the bedroll, her hand guiding his to her breast. He slowly began to massage the soft mount, his thumb brushing against her nipple, as her hands roamed across his body. Her mouth engaged his is a sensual kiss that seemed to be directly linked to his growing erection. He broke the contact, his mouth trailing down her skin in soft kisses. She moaned his name, breathless as his tongue ravished one of her nipples.
He moaned at this thought, just to hear her vocalise her pleasure in his mind added to the sensations running through his body. His eyes closed as he focused on the fantasy in his head.

She drew him over her body. She swept her hand down his body, seeking his erection as she wriggles under him, seeking the best position. His breath hissed as she raises her hips, taking him inside her. Her face was flushed pink and her eyes were excited as he took control, plunging into her with his face buried in her neck breathing in that sweet scent that belonged to her alone.
Her breath was getting desperate and she resisted the urge to moan. His voice was no longer outside the tent, but this did not matter. She was lost in her own world now.
His voice was murmuring her name in soft tones as he nuzzled her neck, his breath soft against her ear. With excruciating pleasure he was in her, his weight pressing down on her as they moved together the tension and lust building with each stroke.
Her first hand still massaged her clitoris, while she entered herself with two fingers, imagining his erection filling her as they kissed, her own moans getting louder as she her fingers grew more frenzied.
He tried to repress his heavy breathing, frightened someone may hear, as his hand pressed harder against his erection, eagerly seeking release. In his mind, she was everywhere; surrounding him with her skin, her scent, everything that was her.
He was buried deep within her; she had wrapped her legs around him, eagerly pulling him in closer and closer with each thrust. Her face was flushed, and she vocalised exquisite mewing sounds as each movement brought them both closer to the edge.
Her fingers quicken, as she felt herself near to the end.
The scent of him, his flesh against hers with the motion of their bodies taking control.
His hand began to move faster, he begins to feel himself reaching breaking point.
He thrust into her, quickly, her body rising against his, her teeth biting into his shoulder as she rode out the orgasm.
She finally pushed herself over the edge, in her fantasy he finished with her, his face tensed as his body gave over to the pleasure.
She was tightening around him as she came, the sensation bringing pleasure beyond imagine.
With one final stroke he came, releasing his load and, with a quick curse, quickly grabbed a nearby shirt to stop the flow.
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The day�s tension was gone and she pulled her blanked over herself as she started to drift in a hazy dream. Suddenly the tent flap opened and Leliana came in.
'Sorry, I thought you were asleep,' Leliana exclaimed to her tent mate. 'I didn't want to wake you.'
'What? Never mind,' murmured Eadgyth as she rolled away from the light at the door and drifted into the comfort of sleep and a warm templar�s embrace.
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He bundled the shirt up, tossing it under his pack. He would deal with that later.
He was hunting around the mess on his side of the tent, looking for his blanket, when Zevran walked in.
'Ah, my friend, good to see you are finally ready for bed. I figured you wanted time to alone first.' Zevran's crooked grin revealed that he suspected what he has been up to. 'Come now, no need to be embarrassed.�
He blushed and burrowed into his blanked, avoiding the grinning assassin. Sleep, he thought, was far off. HIs mind was too full of images and possibilities to contemplate heading to oblivion of sleep.
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When Alistair emerged from his tent in the morning, Eadgyth was already up and had the fire going.
'Good morning, our heroic leader,� he greeted her while trying to judge if the peevishness from last night still remained. Luckily for Alistair, she turned around and grinned back at him.
'Morning yourself, do you want some porridge?'
'Good to see you more cheerful, a good night�s rest did the trick, did it?�
Eadgyth smiled to herself at this, Alistair didn't fully trust that grin, it usually meant she was about to pull the rug from under his feet again. He warily took the bowl she offered and sat near the fire. She turned to him, her eyes questioning.
'It helped me relieve some stress. I was wonder something. You grew up in the chantry right?�
�You already know that.' Alistair turned his attention back to breakfast.
'So, considering their teachings, have you never... you know?'
'Never...?� Alistair splutters a bit, the recovers. �Never what? Had a good pair of shoes?'
'Come on, you know what I mean.' He had began to smile, it was so adorable the way his face lit up. But Eadgyth was distracting herself now; she needed to focus on the conversation.
'I'm not sure I do. Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?' He had caught onto her conversation and managed to hide his embarrassment in a joke.
'You are just making fun of me now!' He could be infuriating sometimes, avoiding questions with jokes. She loved it, but sometimes she just wanted an answer.
�Make fun of you, dear lady? Perish the thought. Well, tell me: have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?� Alistair wondered if he really wanted to know.
'I could probably say I have licked a few lampposts in my time,� she said frankly, desperately hoping not to scare him off.
Alistair blushed, thinking about this and instantly regretting dwelling on such an image. It brought the tension of last night right back again.
'That's... a disturbing mental image you've conjured for me, right there. I, myself, have never had the pleasure.' Instantly he knew he said the wrong thing. He tried to cover, �Not that I haven't thought about it, of course, but... you know.�
'Oh, that�s so cute. You're a virgin'. Eadgyth grinned, so her assumptions had been right. Oh this could be so much fun.
�Cute? Well, hearing that from a beautiful woman does make me feel much luckier; I'll say that.�
She leant towards him, close enough that Alistair noticed the light freckly across her nose. She breathed deeply, her lips were tantalizingly close.
�So you really think I am beautiful?�
'Good morning, dears.' Wynne walked out of tent. They both jumped at the interruption and moved quickly so they were sitting apart.
'Do I want to ask what this conversation was about?� The guilty look on Alistair�s face gave Wynne some ideas about what might have been the conversation and she wasn�t surprised.
'Nothing important,' replied Eadgyth, trying to hide a smile.
Alistair raised his eyebrow at Wynne. 'We were just talking about lampposts.'
At this Eadgyth collapsed into a fit of giggles.
'Oh dear,' Wynne sighed, 'I really don't think I want to know.'
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Guilty Pleasures