Chapter 44: The Night Before

Lying side-by-side on the bed, he smiled. "You do look amazing in my shirt."

"It was the only clean one you had."

"It's perfect. You're perfect."

He stayed there, looking awkward for a moment, smiling at me but clearly nervous. I reached up to stroke his cheek.

"Hey. You're overthinking things. Just relax, okay? It's going to be okay."

He leaned into my hand, his eyes closing momentarily. "I just don't want to do something wrong."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"I could hurt you. Or embarrass myself."

"You won't hurt me. And seriously, with all the embarrassing things I do on a daily basis, it's really only fair if you do something at least mildly silly."

He grinned at me, a flash of the more confident Alistair that I'd been getting used to breaking through. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, softly at first, his hand stroking my hair. He brushed my ear, making me shiver, and then my neck, which elicited a gasp. The kiss rapidly deepened, and then his tongue sought entry, stroking alongside my own. His hand splayed across my stomach over the tunic, and he rubbed softly, just shy of tickling. His other hand wiggled underneath my head, grasping a handful of my hair and tilting my head back. We kissed for an eternity, wrapped up in each other, mostly even oblivious to our states of undress. My hand was on his chest, enjoying the feeling of his firm muscles underneath the smooth skin.

Anxious, and feeling like perhaps Alistair was procrastinating just a little bit out of fear, I finally grabbed the hand that was stroking my hip and stomach and impatiently pulled it upward. Not fighting me, but not taking any initiative either, I had to cajole it all the way up until he cupped my small breast with his hand. My own hand stilled on his chest as I was distracted by the sensation.

I moaned softly as his fingers curled around the mound of flesh, and his thumb stroked over my nipple; it crinkled and tried to gouge a hole in the palm of his hand, and his breath hitched, pulling him out of the passionate kiss. He moaned my name, sending a wave of heat down to my centre, and I squirmed, pressing against his hand and biting my lip to stifle my own feral sounds. He'd touched my breast before, it wasn't a first for either of us, but there had never before been so little in between his skin and mine. He teased lightly across my nipple again, and I gasped and arched my back, pressing harder against his hand. He switched breasts and repeated his actions, drawing an approving sigh.

My head turned to the side, pressing my forehead against his shoulder as I tried to relax and just let it happen; he took the opportunity to press a kiss to my jawline, and I shivered. Emboldened, he did it again, then sucked softly and fluttered his tongue against the skin. My voice cracked as I moaned and I turned my head further, exposing my neck and more of my jaw to his swollen lips. He obliged, shifting a little further towards my ear and repeating the process.

Each time he did it dragged a response from me, either a shiver, moan, or gasp, and he moved closer and closer to my ear. Finally reaching it, he gave my earlobe an experimental lick before leaning in further to kiss the sensitive area just behind it. I whimpered, and could feel his grin and hear his chuckle as he did it again.

"You like that?" He punctuated each word with a kiss or lick, and a caress. My nipples could have carved glass.

"Um. Yeah. What was your first clue?" Sarcasm was the only defense I could come up with; there were unshed tears threatening in my eyes, and my only alternative was to start crying and beg.

It felt like punishment for being flip when he left my ear alone, but when he attacked the corded muscle in my neck with his lips and teeth instead, I cried out, belatedly stuffing my fist in my mouth to muffle the noise. I could feel wetness dripping down to dampen the back of his tunic under me, and I writhed purposelessly under the combined assault on my breasts and neck. His stubble tickled my skin, and everywhere he touched felt like he'd set me on fire. He bit my neck sharply, just above where my armour would sit, marking me, I was sure.

How is he even doing this? I thought he was the virgin. I gasped and shuddered as his hungry mouth reached the fold where neck met shoulder, and couldn't take it anymore; I reached up to grab a handful of his hair, pulling hard enough to get his attention, dragging his lips away from my inflamed skin and up to meet my own in a desperate, violent kiss. His tongue plundered my mouth and I sucked on it hungrily, still marveling at his skill. If he was just a shade more assertive with his hands, anyone would have thought he was as experienced as Zevran.

Thinking about his hands on me triggered a sudden, insane need to feel them on my bare skin; I couldn't wait any longer. I laced my fingers through his, then dragged his hand, unresisting, down to brush against my leg below the tunic. We both gasped as he made contact; the heat of him felt like it would melt me. He pulled out of the kiss abruptly to stare, enthralled, at where his hand lay still on my thigh. I held my breath, letting it out explosively as he gently, softly stroked my skin.

He groaned. "You're so smooth. How do you make your skin so soft?"

I struggled to think; my head was foggy with lust, until I figured out what he was asking. "Laser hair removal. I got rid of all the hair not on my head."

His raised his eyebrows. I shook my head, too aroused to have the discussion. "I'll explain later."

He nodded, and went back to tracing patterns with his fingertips. I watched his face, his jaw tense, his eyes dilated and a little bit wild, and was suddenly worried he was on the edge of a panic attack. Hoping to forestall it, I released his hand, which kept caressing my leg with whisper-light touches, and reached up to cup his face with both of my hands. We locked gazes, and I held him there until the wildness faded a little from his expression. When he kissed me, my Alistair was back.

I realised that so far, our interaction had been very one-sided. I had laid and wriggled while he played with my body; I wanted to return the favour. I pushed playfully on his chest, and surprised, he fell back, losing contact with my thigh. I rolled towards him, pulling my knees up under myself to raise me up so I could look down on my handsome templar.

"My turn," I whispered, and his eyes darkened.

He nodded once, and I leaned across him to press my lips down on his, my hands on the bed on either side of his head, supporting me as I kissed him almost lazily. And then it was my turn to drive him crazy with teasing licks and kisses along his jaw, my hair dragging along his collarbone making him hiss. He reached up at one point to try to guide me, but I slapped his hands away playfully and punctuated it with a bite on the tense muscle in his neck. He groaned but subsided and let me continue to play.

As I sucked on his neck, I began running my hands down the hard planes of his chest. I'd seen him shirtless before, even cuddled against his bare chest for a few minutes, but this was different. I was allowed to touch to my heart's content, and I could have stayed there for days. His muscles shivered underneath the skin as my hands passed over, and I explored every ridge and valley methodically. He had a number of small scars that I could feel, and I traced them gently, reverently.

He gasped as my hand brushed the waistband of his smallclothes, and I leaned back and grinned wickedly. I deliberately examined him from head to toe, not avoiding the obvious bulge tenting up his smallclothes, and he flushed, a combination of arousal and embarrassment, I guessed. I stroked the skin of his belly just beside his smalls, then proceeded to follow the lines of his hips with my hands, down over the fabric. It was his turn to stifle a groan with his hand. There was a damp spot forming, and I smiled, pleased with my work.

In my previous experience, I'd never really had the chance to explore – in fact, before Alistair, I hadn't even been fondled. My first time, we were in a hurry, hidden in a rarely-used storage room at our school; I laid back on a dusty table while he lined himself up and pressed in. I was wet, both from anticipation and nervousness. There was a brief pain, followed by a vaguely warm feeling that seemed to be growing until it was suddenly cut off when he came, quickly pulling out and helping me to my feet as we tidied ourselves up and snuck back out. I never really even saw his penis, never mind touched it.

I had no intention of letting the opportunity pass me by this time. "Off," I demanded, blushing furiously as I grabbed the waistband of his smalls, tugging insistently.

"Wait. What?" Alistair grabbed my hands, stopping me. His face, I assumed, was a perfect match for the colour of mine. "But it's not fair," he whined.

I stopped, still kneeling beside him, and bit my lip for a brief minute. I'm the more experienced. I can do this. I raised my hands out to the side, like I had earlier. I waited until he met my gaze.

"Would you like to do the honours, then?"

His mouth fell open a little, and his eyebrows tried to climb right up into his hairline. He scrambled up to his own knees, facing me, with the tips of our knees not quite touching.

"You want me to ... are you certain?" He searched my face, and I smiled as he suppressed his obvious arousal to worry about me.

I nodded impatiently. "I've never been more certain of anything." I'm done with waiting for this.

He reached down hesitantly to grasp the hem of the long tunic, brushing my knee lightly, making me squirm. With one last questioning look, he lifted and I raised my arms further, turning the tunic inside-out as he pulled it over my head. My hair tumbled down around my face as it pulled through the opening, and it took me a moment to brush it out of my eyes. Vision unimpeded again, I glanced up to see Alistair staring at me, naked appreciation written all over his strong features. He still held the tunic in his hands, and his gaze roamed over my body like mine had done to his earlier.

I giggled as I took the tunic from his unresisting fingers and tossed it off the bed to land, unheeded, on the floor. When I looked again, his gaze had focused firmly back on my face, and his smile was achingly handsome. He reached out and cupped my face, tugging me up onto my knees to meet him, wrapping one arm around my back, pulling me against his chest firmly.

"Maker's breath, but you're beautiful."

I tried to reply, but he silenced me with a soft, perfect kiss. Without breaking contact, he lowered me down to lie on my back, and I felt him wiggle around as he shucked his smalls. When he joined me, he laid beside me carefully, raised on one elbow, pressed against my side. I could feel the hardness and heat of his erection against my thigh. I put one arm under his, wrapping behind him to stroke his strong smooth back. With a sudden blaze of unexpected confidence, he took my other hand, bringing it up above my head, patting it in place with a gesture that I could only interpret to mean 'stay'.

His hand stroked down my arm, skipping my ticklish armpit but ghosting his fingers across my sensitive collarbones and neck instead. He played there for an eternity as I moaned softly. I gasped into his mouth as he finally continued exploring south until he once again cupped one of my breasts, now without anything between us. My nipple, already erect from the previous activity and the slight chill of being exposed, hardened further as he rolled it gently between thumb and forefinger, pinching it deliciously at random intervals. He switched sides and did it again, with much the same response.

I moaned softly in disappointment as his kiss-swollen lips left mine, but when he brought them down over the pulse-point in my neck and sucked, hard, I forgave him. And then I was breathless in anticipation as he slowly, achingly slowly descended further to lave kisses and licks on the tops of my breasts. He paused there, teasing me, until I couldn't take it anymore. The hand he'd put above my head moved of its own accord, tangling into the rumpled sandy mess of hair on his head and dragging him to my aching nipple.

His tongue tentatively flickered out to graze the over-wrought nub at the same time that he flicked the opposite one with his fingers, and I writhed. He chuckled low in his throat, and the sound was sexy as hell. Applying himself more assertively to the task, he began to lick and then suck first one nipple followed by the other, and I lost my mind entirely as I floated in a sea of need and desire and lust. His stubble abraded my skin just lightly, and provided an interesting counterpoint to the sensations sending waves of desire to my core.

When his hand started creeping down my stomach, I realised that between panting and writhing I'd begun whispering prayers to Alistair, God, the Maker – anyone who would listen – begging for ... something. I couldn't even have guessed what specifically I was pleading for, and all I could do was hope Alistair would soon figure it out.

When he allowed my tortured nipple to escape his mouth to be able to watch his hand, the intense look on his face made me crazy. I couldn't have imagined Alistair ever looking at me like that; I couldn't have imagined anyone looking at me like that, before I arrived in Thedas. I watched him as he watched his fingers creep towards my centre. First contact with my mons had me jumping, and he leaned in to capture my lips in a kiss, somehow soothing me. His fingers stroked my smooth skin, and when he pulled out of the all-too-brief kiss, he looked at me with an eyebrow raised.

I felt weirdly defensive; I was aware that shaving legs and armpits wasn't something women did, in Thedas, typically, and my own laser-induced baldness must have seemed strange, but somehow it embarrassed me to have attention drawn to it. I met his gaze only briefly, looking away and squirming uncomfortably.

"I told you." When he looked questioningly at me, I clarified. "All of the hair not on my head."

I looked away, face now pink not just with arousal, trying not to feel self-conscious. Alistair obviously knew me well; he abandoned his exploration to reach up and cup my cheek, turning me to face him.

"Sierra. Just because I'm surprised, doesn't mean I'm bothered." I risked a look up, and his serious, gorgeous hazel eyes locked me in place. "You're beautiful. And that..." he tilted his head, gesturing downwards, " ... is sexy. Don't ever doubt that."

I'm sure the wattage of my smile could have melted stone. He kissed me again, sighing softly into my mouth as our tongues met, but pulled away as I grabbed his hand. More confidently, now, I tugged his hand away from my face and down, back to where he'd been before my little freak-out. He watched my face as his fingers softly touched again, and I pressed his hand harder against me.

"Please." I nodded, and he smiled before turning his attention back to where his hand lay. Slowly, carefully, he reached further until the very tip of one finger softly stroked over my lips. I spread my legs involuntarily, inviting him to explore further, and he licked his lips nervously before taking advantage. His finger slowly traced the cleft, and I gasped and he groaned when his finger slipped in the wetness he encountered and suddenly pressed in just a little.