Unless I Allow It

Hawke sighed and placed the leather bound book she had been reading on the table next to her. She couldn’t concentrate on anything tonight. Her thoughts wandered as she toyed with the stem of the wineglass also sitting on the table. She had been musing over her situation with Fenris, and had finally come up with a plan. Her plans usually worked flawlessly, and she hoped this one would be no exception.

She had been so angry when he left her after spending one night together. She wasn’t used to being treated that way and it stung. For months afterward, she barely spoke to Fenris, snapping orders at him if she had no other choice but to bring him along on one of her adventures. She could tell she was hurting him, but she didn’t care. And after a while, he didn’t seem to either. He seemed to accept her anger at him as being no more than he deserved. And he began to change as well, becoming increasingly violent.

And jealous.

There was no doubt about that. He did whatever he could to come between her and other men, interrupting conversations, distracting her with needless questions, glaring so hard that it should have fried her and whatever unlucky gentleman she happened to be talking to on the spot. She couldn’t understand it. He had rejected her! He had no right to behave that way!

But it was very flattering. And it gave her an idea.

If she could stoke the flames of his jealousy to the point where he snapped….if she could force him to claim to her like she wanted him to….well that would be something.

Hawke smiled. She knew the effect she had on men, and she was prepared to use it to her full advantage. How many times had she caught Anders gazing at her with that hungry, despairing look in his eyes? How many times had Sebastian become tongue-tied and red-faced while trying not to stare at the lush curves that her custom-fitted leather armor showed to perfection? She basked in the attention, and enjoyed toying with men, but Fenris was different. She had given herself to him and he damn well was going to learn to appreciate it.

The next night, Hawke paused to look at herself in the mirror before heading out to meet her friends at the Hanged Man. She wanted to look perfect and she impressed even herself. Her dark chestnut hair fell in waves to her shoulders, framing a pale, heart shaped face with perfect, delicate features. Her huge greenish-gray eyes seemed even larger than usual, thanks to the black liner she had artfully applied. Her lips were her absolute favorite feature, full without being overly plump, naturally tinged a dark yet subtle pink, and pouting just enough to seem always ready for a kiss. She turned this way and that to inspect her clothing, admiring how the supple leather clung to her body in just the right places. Unlike Isabela, who flaunted everything for the world to see, Hawke preferred to leave more to the imagination. Her armor bared her arms, and the skirt made of thick leather straps ended short of her knees, but she exposed only a hint of cleavage. The wide belt she wore emphasized her curvy waist and her snug, elbow-length leather gloves were not only practical in a fight, but also sexy. Hawke was a firm believer in hinting at her best features without showing everyone, and so far she had never been disappointed. With a satisfied smile, she left.

An hour later, she was seated in the Hanged Man with Varric, the rest of her companions scattered throughout the pub playing cards, drinking or just chatting. She listened with half an ear to Varric’s tale, her eyes seeking Fenris, finally spotting him leaning against a wall and watching a dice game rattling on a table in the corner. She admired the long lines of his muscular body and the way his tattoos caught the light from the lamps. He was watching the game intently, his clear green eyes following every move the players made. He looked just perfect, standing there alone, relaxed yet always seeming ready to spring into action, a skill honed during his years as a bodyguard. The light played over the sculpted muscles of his arms and the sharply defined features of his face, and she found herself recalling their one night of passion, remembering his strength and beauty, his gentle firmness, his skin, his lips…..

“Hawke!” Varric interrupted her reverie. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

Her head snapped back towards the dwarf, her cheeks coloring. “Of course,” she bluffed. “You were saying you were going to buy me another drink.”

“Ha! Not likely,” Varric chuckled. “I was telling you about this cabal of rogue blood mages that are apparently hiding somewhere along the Wounded Coast. Meredith specifically wants you to deal with them.”

“Since when does Meredith tell you anything?” she scoffed, taking a swig of ale.

“Since I was the only friend of yours she could find yesterday. You know, since you didn’t invite me to go chasing abominations with you.” Varric gave her a look.

“Oh. Right. Well…but…they were in the sewers this time! I know how much you hate being underground. I didn’t want to upset you.” Hawke patted the dwarf’s arm sympathetically.

“Always looking out for my delicate dwarven sensibilities,” Varric muttered dryly. “Well, what do you say Hawke? Are you up to chasing blood mages again?”

Her eyes strayed back to Fenris, and she noticed that Anders had suddenly appeared next to him, watching the same game and probably making snide remarks about the elf to anyone that would listen. Her lips twitched in a small smile. This new development would fit her plan perfectly.

“Sure Varric, why not? I’ll head there tomorrow.” Hawke drained her mug and stood up.

Without waiting for an answer, she sauntered towards the table where Anders and Fenris were now joined by several other men, all watching the dice game, which apparently had gotten quite heated. She slowly made her way into the circle of onlookers. Men looked around irritably as she pushed past them, then stepped out of the way when they saw who it was, most eying her appreciatively. She walked right past Fenris, who was still leaning against the wall, giving him little more than a nod. She saw his eyes tighten with annoyance and could feel his gaze follow her as she headed towards Anders.

She sidled up to the mage and put her hand on his arm to get his attention. He looked down at her and smiled.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said. “What can I do for you, Hawke?”

She smiled back and leaned in towards him. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something. Could we talk in private for a moment?”

His face brightened. “Of course!” he exclaimed, shooting a triumphant look at Fenris as she led him towards the back of the room, which was far less crowded.

She could feel Fenris watching her.

She turned and faced Anders, still holding onto his hand, which she noticed was getting rather hot.

“I have a favor to ask you,” she started. “I’m heading to the Wounded Coast tomorrow to try and eliminate a group of escaped blood mages, and I want you to come with me. I know you don’t like hunting mages, but I think you might be my best protection.” She tried to look up at him with an innocent, almost nervous look, but it failed. Who was she kidding? She had no reason to be really scared of anything and they both knew it.

“Why is that?” Anders asked, obviously skeptical and reluctant to agree to accompany her.

“You’re a powerful mage, Anders,” she purred. “You can anticipate their tricks, you can counter them in a way I can’t.” He looked smug at her compliment, so she continued. “And you’re the one who can heal me best if I’m injured.”

“Well…” Anders’ eyes flickered over her body before returning to her face. “I don’t enjoy hunting my own kind, but if they really are blood mages…I suppose I can go with you. To make sure nothing happens to you at least.”

She squeezed his hand warmly, and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Anders. I know it’s asking a lot of you but I really think you’re the only one I can count on to be able to handle them with me.” She glanced to the side, noting Fenris’ angry scowl. She knew he had seen the kiss.

Anders raised an eyebrow at her, blushing slightly. “The only one?” he intoned.

She frowned. “Well, yes…I think so. The only mages I trust are you and Merrill, but Merrill is too involved with blood magic herself. She might sympathize with them and then where would I be? I think it would be safer with just the two of us, don’t you?”

Anders smirked. “I can’t argue with that.”

“Meet me at my estate tomorrow around noon,” she said, giving him a final sultry smile before heading back towards Varric. “And thanks again!”

She could feel both Anders and Fenris watching her walk away, and she laughed to herself. She informed Varric of her plan and then left the tavern. As she went out the door, she saw Fenris striding determinedly towards Varric’s table. She hoped Varric would tell him everything.

Some time later, Hawke was lounging on her bed, wearing only a red silken dressing gown, reading the book she failed to finish the night before and once again not really concentrating on it. She kept thinking about how sexy Fenris had looked in the dimly lit tavern. She sighed. This was going to be a long night.

Suddenly, she heard heavy, determined footsteps stomping up the stairs of her house, and Bodhan’s frantic protests. Hawke smiled. Finally.

The door to her room crashed open, hitting the wall so hard that it rebounded to slap against Fenris’ open palm. He stood there, quivering with rage, ignoring Bodahn’s sputters and threats. He looked furious.

“It’s all right Bodahn,” Hawke stated, sliding off the bed and folding her arms. “Leave us.”

The dwarf did so, glaring at Fenris as he retreated. Fenris walked slowly into Hawke’s room, his eyes never leaving her face, one gauntleted hand clenching and unclenching by his side.

“What do you want, Fenris?” she asked coolly, drumming the fingers of one slender hand on her folded arm, trying not to show that her heart was beating wildly. Maker, he was gorgeous.

“I want to know why you are bringing Anders with you to the Wounded Coast tomorrow,” he said in a tight voice.

She rolled her eyes at him, sighing heavily and walking around him to shut the door. She leaned her back against it, refolding her arms. “Really?” she asked. “You felt that question was reason enough to disturb me? You couldn’t wait till tomorrow?”

His eyes bulged in disbelief. “Disturb you?” he grated. “I hadn’t realized my presence was so unwelcome!” He moved so fast she couldn’t follow him. One second he was standing by her bed, the next he had grabbed her upper arm and yanked her towards him threateningly. She had forgotten how strong he was.

“You agree to hunt down escaped blood mages in the middle of the wilderness, and you think it’s a good idea to bring that…that abomination with you? He will offer you no protection whatsoever! He will most likely betray you and side with them!” His grip was like iron, there was no way she could shake him off. Not that she really wanted to.

“You’re being ridiculous!” she snapped. “Anders would never hurt me! Unlike you. Let go of me now.”

He snarled and shook her by the arm. She could feel her skin bruising under his fingers. “How dare you! I would protect you with my life, I would kill anything that threatened you, man, beast or demon, and you run to him for protection!” He glared at her, grabbing her other arm to pull her even closer, mere inches away from him. She winced, bringing her hands up in front of her to stop herself from banging into his chest. “What can he do for you that I can’t, Hawke? What is so special about him?”

She matched his glare with one of her own, and let the words she had been holding back all this time spill from her lips. “What right do you have to question anything I do, Fenris? You left me, you abandoned me! Why do you care if I show interest in another? Do you expect me to sit around pining for you? Waiting for you to come back to me? Do you think you own me? Is that it? I’m your possession? Your coming here has nothing to do with wanting to protect me! You’re just jealous! You’re jealous and you’re throwing a fit and I’m not going to deal with it!”

She expected him to be hurt by her accusations, but if anything, his face darkened with every word. He swung her by the arms and slammed her back against the bedpost, causing her head to bounce off the wood. She opened her mouth to continue her tirade but then she saw the look in his eyes. She had never seen him look so wild, but she wasn’t sure if it was anger or lust, and that made her pause. That was all he needed, and the words he spoke were not what she expected,

“So I’m jealous, is that it? You are mine, Hawke! I had you long before that mage started hanging all over you and I will not let him have you! I have regretted leaving you every day, every night, but no more! You belong to me, and you will know it by the time I’m done with you!”

Well. That was certainly something a girl liked to hear. Her knees felt suspiciously like jelly. She decided it was lust, and also decided playtime was over.

“Ooooh,” she murmured. “Are you threatening me, Fenris? You should know by now what happens to people who threaten me.” She brought her arms up inside his and broke his hold on her, shoving him away so hard that he stumbled. He caught himself on her table, his eyes widening. She stood with her hands on her hips and waited.

He stalked towards her slowly, his face like a thundercloud. Once again, he moved so fast she could barely follow him. One second he was standing by the table, the next he had caught her in his arms and was kissing her so hard she couldn’t breathe.

She clung to his arms, willing herself not to collapse in a heap. Her bones felt like they were dissolving. She had waited so long for this.

His lips were like fire on hers, so hot she could almost feel herself melting. His breath was sweet like she remembered, the scent of him consuming her. His tongue entered her mouth and she tasted him, that intoxicating flavor she had yearned for. Her blood felt like molten lava rushing through her veins and she felt the familiar thrill of arousal. She tried to pull back to take a breath and found she couldn’t extricate herself from his grasp. She felt lightheaded.

Fenris finally wrenched his mouth free from hers and took a shuddering breath. They gazed into each others eyes, both of them breathing hard. His lips were still almost touching hers.

“And if I am threatening you, Hawke?” he said softly. “What exactly do you think you can do to me?”

Good question. She remained silent, reveling in his closeness.

“Do you think you can stop me from taking you?”

She still said nothing.

He twisted a hand in her hair, pulling her head back, strands catching painfully on his metal gauntlets. He ran his tongue gently from her collarbone up to her jaw, then placed his lips right beside her ear.

“Answer me,” he whispered.

Oh my. “Why would I stop you?” she murmured.

He chuckled, his lips brushing her neck like a butterfly’s kiss until he reached the spot where neck met shoulder, and he bit down. Hard.

She hissed, arching her back, one hand clutching the bedpost, the other grasping the sheets of her bed, forcing herself not to cry out against the pain. He released her after a few seconds, stepping back to admire the dark red bruise now forming on her white skin. He stripped off his gauntlets, and began lazily removing the rest of his armor.

“I should have marked you long ago,” he declared, letting pieces of his clothing fall one by one to the floor. She watched greedily, sitting down on her bed and trying to ignore the pain in her neck. She felt herself growing more and more aroused as more of his body appeared. By the time he was naked, her mouth was watering. She simply had to have him.

He stood for a moment just gazing at her, and she studied him. His tattoos wound gracefully over the contours of his body, shiny softly in the dim light. He was lean, like most elves, but his body was that of a warrior, and it was the leanness of hard muscle and immense strength. Every move he made sent his muscles rippling under his skin, making his tattoos seem to dance along his body. His cock was just as hard as the rest of him, an impressive rigid length that she couldn’t wait to get her hands on.

He approached her and she slid backwards until her head rested against the pillows, never taking her eyes from his. Fenris crawled towards her on his hands and knees, pausing to untie the sash holding her robe closed. He ran both hands up the middle of her body, over her stomach and in between her breasts, then slid them apart to run over her shoulders, pushing the robe down off of her. She levered herself up so he could slip the garment off her arms. He tossed it aside, then paused again in the act of lowering himself back down, allowing his eyes to wander over her exposed body. She preened under his scrutiny, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back seductively. His eyes filled with lust as he looked down, but instead of laying down, as she expected, he moved sideways and got off the bed, standing next to it.

“Fenris, what are you doing?” Hawke inquired, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Lift up,” he ordered. Hawke was confused but did as he asked, lifting her back and bottom up off the bedding. Fenris yanked the sheets and blankets down as far as he could, then waited for Hawke to reposition herself and lift her feet and legs before yanking them off the bed completely. He plucked the sheet from the tangle of bedclothes and with one strong jerk of his hands, tore a strip right off of the bottom edge.

“What are you doing?!” Hawke yelled at him, sitting up. “Those are my sheets!”

“I’m aware,” he said wryly, tearing another strip, then another.

“Stop it! You can’t just come in here and ruin my things! What is wrong with you?!” she shrieked.

Fenris had climbed back onto the bed, carrying the torn fabric with him. He approached Hawke, ignoring her protests, and shoved her back down – hard.

“It occurs to me, Hawke, that you still think you’re in charge here,” he said calmly. “I know that you’re used to being in command, and I know that I follow your orders daily, but in this room, in this bed…I don’t think I like the idea of you trying to take charge.”

“What?” Hawke was even more confused now. “I’m not trying to ‘take charge’. And even if I was, like you said, you do what I say on a daily-“

“I know I do,” he broke in smoothly. “But you are the magnificent Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall. You are the best leader I have ever known, and I follow your orders in battle without question. But here….here you do as I say. You have tormented me long enough.”

“Tormented you? How?” she asked curiously, not because she didn’t know what he was talking about, but because she wanted to see what he would say.

“How? How?” he replied incredulously. “Every day, I’ve had to watch you flirt with other men while ignoring me completely. Every night, I would lay awake and wonder if you were in another man’s bed, if Anders or Sebastian were enjoying what was denied me. I thought it was no more than I deserved for having treated you the way I did, but this…punishment you have inflicted on me far outweighs whatever I did to you. I left you for your own good, and everything you’ve done has just been for the sole purpose of torturing me.” His eyes grew darker as he spoke, and he gripped her wrists hard, pressing them into the bed under him. His tattoos began faintly radiating a blue light. “I’m tired of you thinking you can do whatever you want to me without consequence, Hawke. I’m tired of watching you dangle yourself in front of other men just for fun. To think that you would actually go off hunting blood mages with that…that…”

Apparently there was no word derogatory enough to describe Anders, because Fenris’ rant ended in a disgusted grunt. He held both her wrists in one of his hands, and quickly wrapped one of the strips from the bedsheet around them, tying the other end to one of the posts that made up Hawke’s headboard. The knots he made were so tight that they pinched Hawke’s skin, but there was little she could do about it.

“You do and feel nothing unless I allow it, Hawke. Do you understand?” he demanded.

“You’re being ridiculous, Fenris” she scoffed.

His eyes flashed. “How so?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

“You said you wondered about Sebastian and me. You know he would never break his vows. Believe me, I know for a fact.” She hoped he understood what she was insinuating.

Fenris apparently did, because he grabbed her chin with one hand and forced the fabric of the other strip between her teeth, winding it around her face once and tying it off. “You’ve got a smart mouth, Hawke,” he snarled. “Another thing you won’t use unless I allow it.”

She winked at him. He tied the last strip over her eyes.

Fenris grabbed both her breasts, kneading them roughly, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. “I wonder just how much torment you can take,” he mused. “I guess we’ll find out.”

He played with her breasts for another minute or two, massaging the soft flesh, stroking her nipples until they were hard as rocks. She couldn’t help but squirm on the bed, loving the feel of his hands, but wanting so much more. She suddenly felt the heat of his breath on one nipple as he sucked the hard peak into his mouth, pinching it between his lips and biting the very tip with his teeth. His fingers kept stroking her other nipple for a moment, then twisted it, hard. Hawke’s back arched off the bed, but her cry was muffled behind her gag. Fenris kept up the painful pressure on both her nipples until it was almost too much for Hawke to bear, then abruptly let go. She sagged back down, breathing hard.

She felt his tongue run along her lower lip. “Too much, Hawke?” he whispered. He repositioned himself, but she wasn’t sure how. She was completely blind.

His fingers trailed down her ribs, past her naval, along her inner thigh, then back up again. He did the same on her other side, then both sides at once. His touch was light as a feather, tickling her slightly. She opened her legs, offering herself to him, but he did no more than lightly stroke the outer lips of her entrance before resuming his exploration of the rest of her body.

Hawke whimpered, straining against her bonds. She wanted him so badly. She knew she was already more than wet enough for him, and she was getting wetter by the minute. He ignored her and continued to lightly touch her skin, up and down. His fingers now were running along the curve of her breasts, getting a little bit closer to her nipples with every pass. She panted against her gag, feeling her nipples stiffen even more in anticipation of his touch. Finally, his fingertips just barely brushed against her super-sensitized nubs, and she jerked, the sensation almost too intense. She heard him chuckle, and then she gasped in her throat as she felt the flat of his tongue slide over one nipple, then the other. He was right. This was torture.

She felt the bed sag as he lay down next to her, his body suddenly pressed against hers. His skin was searing hot and she could feel his rock-hard erection on her hip. He continued to lick one nipple and he snaked his arm behind her head, curling it inwards to stroke the other one gently. She finally felt his other hand at her slick entrance, his fingers probing her hole, then centering on her swollen clit. He rubbed her mercilessly, slowly at first, then with increasing speed, her muffled moans urging him on. She thrashed on the bed, overcome with arousal, her muscles straining as she came ever closer to glorious release.

Fenris slowed. She cried out in dismay, but his pace slackened and finally stopped. He removed his tongue and hands from her, and she could have shrieked with frustration.

“You see, Hawke?” he said softly in her ear. “You feel nothing unless I allow it.”

She whimpered against her gag, her whole body trembling. This was truly unfair. She pulled against her bonds once more, trying to slip away, but it did no good. Fenris laughed softly. His hand began running up and down her body, slowly, teasingly.

“How I’ve missed you, my lovely Hawke,” he sighed. “Tell me, is what you said before about Sebastian true?” A note of jealousy entered his voice. “Did you really try to seduce him?” He ripped the gag from her mouth, the rough yank at odds with his soft voice and tender touch on her body. Hawke licked her dry lips, working her jaw. She remained silent.

“Answer me, Hawke,” he said. “And be truthful. If I think you’re lying to me, I may have to punish you.”

She grimaced. Punish her how? “I gave Sebastian plenty of opportunities to…to..”

“Enjoy your charms?” Fenris supplied.

“You could say that,” she agreed. “But he never broke his vows.” She might enjoy being punished…

“I believe you,” he said after a moment. “And…the mage?” His voice tightened with suppressed anger.

She hesitated. Obviously he was aware of Anders’ attraction to her and wanted to see if she reciprocated. Should she see how far she could push him?

Fenris obviously took her hesitation for confirmation of some romantic relationship between her and Anders, because he gripped her blindfold and tore it off, then grabbed her hair again and twisted her head, forcing her to stare at him, his face mere inches from hers. “Did something happen between you two?” he growled, jealousy hot in his eyes.

She smiled and licked his lower lip. “Why Fenris,” she said sweetly. “You know I don’t go for blondes. I prefer my men…” she let her eyes wander down his body “…a bit more exotic…”

Hawke didn’t get the chance to finish, because Fenris leaped on top of her, crushing her with his weight even as he propped himself up with his hands on either side of her. He bent his head to capture her mouth in a desperate kiss, at the same time using his legs to shove hers wide open. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock pressing up against her. He broke their kiss, but remained hovering above her.

“You will never let another man touch you, Hawke,” he whispered. “Am I clear? You belong to me.”

She tried to press herself forward against him, yearning for him to enter her. He drew back, his body trembling with desire but fully in control of himself nonetheless. “Who do you belong to, Champion of Kirkwall?” he demanded in a voice hoarse with lust.

She gave in. “You,” she breathed, and he speared her with a massive thrust that made her arch up against him.

“Good girl,” he muttered. He began to move, stroking in and out of her tight channel at a deliberate, measured pace. She groaned. He filled her so perfectly.

Hawke pulled once again at her restraints, wanting to touch him so badly. “Untie me,” she begged.

Fenris paused to undo her bonds. Immediately, her fingers flew to tangle themselves in his hair and pull his head down for a kiss that left his body shuddering and his pace markedly faster. His increased speed made her dig her nails into his back. “Don’t stop,” she begged. “Maker, don’t stop, Fenris…”

He slammed into her harder and harder, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. She felt her muscles begin to tighten, a twisting feeling of pleasure building in her nerves, and then he stopped abruptly.

“Wha…What? Why?!” she gasped.

“Dear Hawke,” he chuckled, gazing down at her fondly. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

He withdrew from her and sat back on his heels, jerking her up to kiss him. He spun her around and shoved her down with one hand against her back. “On your knees,” he ordered.

At this point, she was ready to do anything he asked of her. She propped herself up on her forearms and knees, angling herself and presenting herself to him. She felt his hands grasp her waist and he pushed himself into her from behind, causing her to cry out. He hissed through his teeth at the much tighter fit, and hilted himself in her.

He began to thrust into her again, pounding her mercilessly. “Maker…Fenris…”she panted, her hands clawing at the bedclothes. She couldn’t get enough of the feel of his cock inside her, the heated friction at her core.

She could hear his breath coming heavier behind her, and he smacked her behind hard with one hand. She gasped, and jumped slightly forward, but he pulled her back towards him with another hard slap. “Behave, Hawke,” he growled.

She couldn’t stand it. Holding herself up on one elbow, she reached down and began to rub her aching clit, groaning at the sharp pleasure that her fingers released. As her orgasm began to build, Fenris stopped once more, leaned forward and snatched a fistful of her hair, yanking her head up and backwards. She almost lost her balance and had to catch herself with both hands.

“What do you think you’re doing, Hawke?” he demanded. “Did you forget what I told you?” He smacked her once more, pulling her hair so that she lifted up straight onto her knees, her back pressed against his chest, his cock still buried deep with her. He caught her against him with one arm around her waist and wrenched her head back as far as it would go, leaning it over his shoulder. “You feel nothing unless I allow it.” He then bit down hard on the side of her neck, almost at her throat, causing her to shriek and creating a mark that was twin to the one on the other side.

“Please…Fenris…” she stammered breathlessly. Her neck was throbbing in time with the pleasure radiating out from her lower regions.

He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent deeply “Mmmm,” he murmured. “I like to hear you beg. Please what?”

“Please…let me come…” she whispered.

He slowly began stroking in and out of her again, still holding her back against him, and slid one hand lower to massage her pulsing clit. Her eyes closed and she bit her lip at the incredibly sensuous feeling he was creating within her. She was drowning in pleasure.

“Do you enjoy the way I make you feel, Hawke?” he whispered in the husky, throaty drawl she loved so much.

Hawke nodded, too consumed with bliss to voice her scattered thoughts.

His fingers tweaked a nipple. “Answer me,” he ordered once again.

“Y-yes,” she choked out.

“Do you think any other man can make you feel the way I do?” he breathed into her ear.

Dear Maker. “No...” she sighed blissfully.

Fenris laughed softly, pressing his fingers harder against her swollen nub, thrusting into as deep as he could go. She moaned in ecstasy, reaching up to grasp the back of his head and press his lips against hers.

Hawke’s arousal had reached the breaking point, and within seconds she felt her muscles begin to clench, the beginnings of a powerful orgasm almost upon her. Fenris quickened his fingers and his thrusts as she tensed further and further.

“Don’t stop…Fenris…please…ahhhh!” Hawke convulsed as waves of intense pleasure wracked her frame, shuddering against Fenris hard body. She drowned in the feeling, reveling in it. As she slowly came back to her senses, she became aware of Fenris labored breathing rasping in her ear. Apparently, knowing he could cause such a powerful reaction in her had brought him close to the edge himself.

With a snarl of lust, Fenris shoved her back down to her knees. There was no pausing or teasing her this time. He dug his fingers into her waist, burying himself inside her as far and as fast as he could go. She heard her bed creaking under his onslaught, but she certainly didn’t want him to stop. He pounded harder and harder until, with one final, incredibly deep thrust and a strangled grunt, he emptied his seed into her, quivering and gasping with the force of his release.

His grip on her grew slack and he collapsed on his back beside her, breathing hard, one arm flung over his eyes. She was gulping for air herself, her body still twitching. Fenris ran a hand through his hair, then groped blindly next to him, his hand finding her shoulder and pulling her into him. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, snuggling up to his side, running her other hand lazily over the sculpted muscles of his chest, tracing his silvery tattoos.

He kissed her forehead, wrapping his arms around her securely. “I will never let you go again, Hawke,” he whispered into her hair. “You belong to me.”

Hawke smirked as she felt herself drifting off to sleep in Fenris’ arms. Her plans always worked flawlessly…and this one had been no exception.