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Riding the Bull

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The first time Bull and I were together, though I had definitely wanted it, I really hadn’t known quite what I’d gotten myself into. It was strange and so different than anything else I’d experienced, but at the same time it just felt right, like it was scratching an itch I didn’t even know I’d had. I was no blushing virgin, but Bull had made me feel that way our first night, the sensations he used surprising me and driving me wild with desire. Who knew that getting spanked and manhandled during sex was so pleasurable? Not I, for one. But Bull seemed uniquely intuitive, pushing me in ways I didn’t even know of, somehow anticipating what I needed though I didn’t know I needed it. It was my introduction to this world built on domination and submission. And I liked it.


Tonight was no different. After finally being afforded a break and some quality alone time - long enough so this wouldn’t just be a quick tryst - we had retreated to my quarters and locked the door. Bull had pulled a length of rope, giving me a sly grin as he approached me, and I returned it. Normally he simply restrained me with his body, using his strong hands and powerful arms and thick legs to pin me down or in whatever position he wanted. I couldn’t lie, though, the thought of him restraining me with something else entirely was making me wet already. Pulling the rope taut, he asked, “You up for a little fun with this?”


My eyes shone with excitement, and I found it hard to restrain me exuberance. He was good about introducing new things to me slow, especially when it was apparent that this world was so different than what I was used to. He actively worked to keep his promise to never hurt me without my permission. And so far, his promise had been well kept. I trusted him implicitly. “Oh yes.”


Nodding, he accepted my answer. “Do you remember the safe word?”




“And what is it?”




“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to capture me in a quick, rough kiss before he spun me around. Yanking on the ties that kept my clothes together, he swiftly had me completely undressed and bare before him, even going to far as to pull the ties out of my hair, allowing the auburn locks to fall as they would. He liked me best that way, though in the field it could get unwieldy and it was thus easier and more convenient to have it up. We were far from any potential battle grounds, however, safe within the confines of the Inquisitor’s locked quarters. If we weren’t safe here, we wouldn’t be safe anywhere.


Taking my arms, he pulled them into the position he desired, tying my wrists part way up the opposite arm so as to limit my range of motion. With the rest of the length of rope, he wound it across my chest, framing my breasts. I wasn’t sure what kind of rope it was or where he’d gotten it, but it wasn’t the normal, rough variety that would have me in an itching fit, but soft and silky. It was still strong, however, I could tell just by the way he handled it that it was more than up for the job of restraint, though he didn’t tie it quite as tight as he could have. Even though I was as small as a typical Elf, I wasn’t fragile, and I took that moment as he was finishing up to remind him. “You can tie it tighter, I’m sturdy enough to take it.”


That impishness cost me a swat on my ass and a growl. “Careful what you wish for, Gilrael.” But he obliged and tightened the ropes, not one to leave me dissatisfied. When he finished, I flexed and tugged, testing the limits of my new restraints. There wasn’t much give to them, but I liked it, the feeling that I was physically restricted and yet my lover was completely free and unoccupied to do whatever he liked to me. And that prospect only served to arouse me even further, my mind wandering from possibility to possibility of what he could do. I simply stood there in breathless anticipation, waiting to see what it was he would do.


He circled me, once, twice, three times. It took every ounce of self-control within me to stay still and not move, as I wanted so badly to just sink to my knees, to step toward Bull … something other than simply waiting. It was not my strong suit. But he was teaching me and teaching me well, that patience was greatly rewarded. And so I kept my position, refusing to even flinch under his gaze. The corner of his mouth quirked upward in a smirk to see no trace of nervousness in me at all. Our first time, it had been so new and unique I had been nervous for most of it, just not knowing what was going to happen next. Now I relished it, and was unafraid.


Stepping forward, he tugged on the ropes surrounding my chest, pulling me with him as he stepped backward. “Come with me, little Dalish.” Sitting back on the bed, he pulled me close enough so that my knees touched the sheets, but no further. The way he’d positioned me, only one of his massive legs was between mine, but it was enough to spread them. Our size difference was not negligible, as even for a Qunari he was tall and broad, while I was a fairly typical height and weight for an Elf. But I revelled in our differences, loved how big and strong he was. I never felt like I was in danger with him, or that he would hurt me, but I loved the possibility. It was hard to describe, but sometimes when he was on top of me, thrusting away, just the pressure of his weight and his muscles was amazing. It almost felt like I was being crushed sometimes, but it was wonderful.


I was ripped out of my musings when he reached forward, cupping my sex with his hand, and I whimpered at his touch. He wasn’t he doing much of anything and yet I was craving more already. It was almost strange, this sway he held over me. But I didn’t question it. I craved it. Slowly, he rubbed up and down my outer lips, teasing what could be until finally he slipped one finger in between my folds. My eyes fluttered closed as I moaned, already slick and more than ready for him, but knowing he wouldn’t mount me yet. Instead, he swirled his fingers around that little bud, exciting me even further, drawing more moans and whimpers out of me as he went between teasing my opening and teasing my clit. My hips twitched, wanting more, needing more, but he kept me right on the edge, giving me just enough stimulation but not enough to progress. I was starting to get frustrated, wishing he would either do more or stop entirely, but just when I thought I wasn’t going to be able to withstand anymore, he plunged a finger inside me. Shuddering with the sensation, I almost fell over from the sheer relief at being given more. He immediately reached out to steady me as he continued, languidly stroking my inner walls, hitting just the right spots on the inside and right around the edge while he used his thumb to stimulate my clit. Even just one of his fingers was thick and more than enough to do the job, but he slipped in a second regardless, stretching me wonderfully. I was buzzing on the waves of pleasure washing over me, my head tilted back slightly and my eyes still closed as I concentrated on just feeling him.


With little warning, he removed his hand entirely from me, and I whimpered, my inner muscles clenching at nothing, wishing for something to feel, anything. I wouldn’t wait long, however, as I was only left wanting as long as it took him to whip off his pants and throw his strong arms around me, pulling me up onto the bed with him, straddling his waist. Meeting his gaze, he smiled wickedly as he directed. “Go on. Ride the Bull.”


He helped position himself, since I was unable to with my restraints in place, and the wonderful burn at feeling him stretch me open gave me goosebumps across my pale flesh. Once I finally settled him in me, I gave him a few test strokes, just to make sure all was well before I started shamelessly grinding and twisting on his cock. Our eyes locked as my hips swirled in rhythm, his hands wandering from my hips, up my sides, and to my chest, his rough hands grazing my nipples and making them really stand at attention. His own hips lazily met my own, but he didn’t push to set the pace any more than that. I knew he would take the reigns sooner or later, but right now he was relishing my own handiwork. His cock was so thick, even small little motions added up in big ways, and I was soon gasping, trying to work in enough air so that I could keep going despite the shaking protests of my hips and legs. His fingers trailed back down my stomach, one hand settling on my thigh as the other sought my little bud, lazily stroking it as I slowly fucked him. I switched up the pace now and then, sometimes humping him hard and fast, other times circling my hips slow and sensually. By his moans and the way his gaze burned through me, he seemed quite pleased, and I only further resolved to see this through to the end. I wanted him to like what I was doing, I wanted to please him, make him happy with me. His approval was all I craved, and so I moved to leave no doubt as to the depth of my desires, even consciously clenching and unclenching my inner muscles to add to the sensations he was feeling as well as my own.


I suppose he thought I was taking a little too much control at that point, as he reached up and tugged my upper body part way down, holding me there as he started to take over the rhythm, his own pace brutal and punishing but oh so welcome. As he fucked me viciously from beneath, his one hand clasped around my throat, squeezing just enough to leave me wonderfully lightheaded and enhancing every other sensation sweeping through my body. Growling, he murmured, “Come, Gilrael.” I didn’t need much convincing after that to follow through, my body spasming as it clenched and released, my legs trembling as I could no longer keep up any semblance of movement. Bull’s eyes were intense as he watched me, fucking me through the waves before pulling me down to his chest and holding me there as he moved to finish himself, his powerful arms pinning me to him as he claimed my lips in a rough, passionate kiss. I was just starting to get a little overly sensitive when his hips stuttered and he buried himself deep inside me, breathing heavily as he finished.


He gently ground his hips against mine, revelling in the sensations before he pulled out, carefully setting me on my side on the bed while he moved to fetch a towel for clean up. I simply laid there, staring at nothing, blinking slowly as I sank into what felt like a world of my very own. I barely even registered him wiping my folds clean or untying me afterwards. The only thing that did register was the severe dip of the bed as he laid next to me and murmured my nickname. “Gilly.”


Blinking hard a couple of times, I looked up to see him lying there on his back, his hand tracing small, indistinct patterns on my arms. I smiled to see him, still enveloped in the haze of afterglow. He returned it once he saw my grin, confirming that I was okay. Pulling me into his arms, he settled my head on his chest and kissed my forehead, running his fingers through the loose fiery locks before moving to trace the elongated shell of my ear. Humming happily, I traced the strange tattooed patterns on his skin, feeling the raw power of the muscles lying just beneath them. I had seen him wield his overly large weapon with these arms so many times, seen him reach out and punch an opponent or even move to snap their neck should they give him such an opening. The Iron Bull was a dangerous man to the wrong kind of people. But in the confines of the bedroom, what he shared with me, the power and the restraint, the love and the will, it was beautiful. Our future was uncertain as of yet. There was much work yet to do in Thedas. But right now, in this moment, I had all I ever needed.