Adaar smiled down at Blackwall as she released him from their embrace. The mountain breeze toyed with the curtains of her room. She was used to the cold, mostly because she wore several layers of fur at all times. Even her bed was piled with heavy, soft pelts. Luckily, that was their destination. But she disliked the idea that the tremors she felt beneath her grip could have been attributed to the cold, and not to his excitement at finally falling into bed with her.
She leaned down and whispered into his ear, “I will close the doors if you will get yourself ready on the bed.”
She heard him swallow. She smiled against his cheek, kissing his jaw before straightening up, careful not to knock her horns against him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyelids were heavy as he looked up at her in blatant adoration. She lazily smiled her adoration back before she set off across the room to close the doors, despite her desires to have left them open and have all of Skyhold hear Blackwall’s cries of pleasure.
“Do be quick,” he called from behind her, where his steps hurried towards the warmth and promises that the bed held. She bit the inside of her cheek as she closed the door next to the bed. She kept herself from turning to look. She didn’t want to sneak a peek, instead she indulged herself with the images in her head as her gloved hand closed around the cold steel handle; Blackwall eagerly stipping himself of his padded layers, the heavy thunk of his belt, boots kicked off hurriedly.
They had certainly done their fair share of waiting. Their constant flirting had been cut short by Blackwall’s reservations. He’d said they’d regret this, but she made her choice. And he stayed. It felt like a certainty since the beginning, with Adaar not holding back her amusement at him calling her a ‘lady’, and Blackwall not holding back his excited intimidation of her size and strength. She would have had him against the wall in Haven had she not been so preoccupied with The Breach.
Now they would finally get to indulge.
As she closed the first door she heard an oil bottle being opened and she moved at a measured pace towards the two doors across from the bed. She imagined Blackwall preparing himself; worn hands carefully stretching himself open for her, his ass up. Or, perhaps he was leaning against the headboard and the soft pillows piled there, his legs spread and waiting for her.
She quickly closed the first door, moved in front of the recently stoked fire across to the other door and shut it with minimal fumbling, pulling the gloves off with her teeth, breathing heavy. She reached into her furred coat and pulled her leather harness out, then one of the facsimile cocks she keeps on her person...you never know when you might need it handy. It was a rather average cock, with more give than some of the others she’d commissioned in the past. She knew they would both be too worked up to go for anything extreme for their first time together.
“Ready when you are, my lady.”
Adaar snorted. “You better be,” She turned, strap in hand, “Ser Blac-”
She stopped. Blackwall lay on the bed, cock hard and standing to attention, slathered in oil. Ready to enter. His eyes found her stunned expression and followed her arm until he saw the harness and cock in her hand.
“Oh.” They spoke in unison.
Maybe they should have talked instead of kissing so much.
Adaar laughed first, Blackwall cautiously followed, until he was shaking with laughter, leaning back against the pillows, hand covering his eyes. His beard stretched around his smile. “Maybe-,” a laugh jumped from his chest, interrupting him, “Maybe we got a bit ahead of ourselves.”
Adaar was nearly bent over laughing, the harness dangling on her wrist. She straightened up, wiping tears from her eyes. “Maybe,” she conceded. “At least it happened now and not while I was hilt-deep inside you.”
The comment caused Blackwall’s cock to twitch. The laughter petered out. Blackwall’s ‘attention’ hadn’t flagged and Adaar certainly hadn’t lost her interest. However, Adaar wasn’t sure how to proceed. So, she stayed where she was. Blackwall was the first to make a move, simply sliding to the edge of the bed and sitting there. His cock, still shiny with the oils, began to soften as he pat the bed beside him. Adaar moved to take up the space. She placed the harness on the bed behind her.
Blackwall looked smaller without the armour and Adaar felt worry momentarily cross her brow. She didn’t want to pressure the man. She’d come across plenty of people intrigued by her size and strength until they were naked and realised maybe they bit off more than they could chew.
“What was the plan?” Blackwall’s gruff voice cut across her worry. Her expression reset itself into a smirk as he looked up at her.
“Pound into you with my cock until you came.” The honesty had Blackwall coughing into his hand as it came up to hide his flustered smile.
“I thought it’s what you were looking for too. I’m usually better at knowing these things.” He had just seemed like the kind of man who had wanted to be filled. She scratched the root of one of her horns. “What was your plan?”
“Kind of similar. Just, you know, the roles reversed.” Adaar hummed her understanding.
“Well,” she warmly sighed out into the space between them, “how do you want to continue?” She tilted down to find his eyes where they stared out the window across from them. He met her gaze. “We can leave it here, no hard feelings,” she said. She then smiled, “Well, some hard feelings.” He smiled back. She was glad the awkwardness of the encounter hadn’t sapped them both of their ability to find the humour in the situation.
“I’m not sure. It’s been a while, a long while, since I’ve done it your way-, with anyone.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. She thought it might have been a long while in general.
“It’s been some time since I’ve done it your way,” she said soberly. He raised his brows, minutely, he was trying not to show his surprise. “Not all women always enjoy being on the receiving end.” She tilted her head. “But I’m not entirely against it,” she added.
Blackwall nodded, then took a moment to think. Adaar left it for him to mull over. She liked Blackwall, and being fucked by him was far from an unappealing thought. The worst scenario was if he decided to leave and pretend this never happened. She was kind of shocked how much she didn’t want that. But pressuring an old man into being fucked with a dwarven-made cock was not something she would have liked to be known for. So, she let him think while she planed how to re-seduce him, should he walk out.
“Ok.” Blackwall’s rough voice stopped Adaar’s train of thought. He placed his hands on his bare thighs as they sat in silence.
Seeing that he was not going to elaborate she tilted her head and screwed up her brows. “Ok...what?”
“Ok, we do your plan. Though, since it’s been a while, please don’t expect me to be up for any missions tomorrow. I’m not as young as I once was.” He was already maneuvering the pillows beside him to be comfortable to lean against.
Adaar sat still. “Really?”
Blackwall stopped his ministrations. “Yes, of course? It’s been a while but I did enjoy it, very much. I’m just...a bit older now, so had to figure out if my hips could take it, but I trust you not to shatter them.” He smirked beneath the beard.
Adaar smiled back, sly and all teeth. “You’re acting so precious about yourself Blackwall, I’d swear you were nearing 100 the way you talk about your brittle hips.” She snaked an arm around his waist, her other hand came up to gently grab his jaw and tilt it up towards her. She leaned in, barely stopping before his lips, watching his dark eyes pinned to her mouth. “I promise not to break you, Ser Blackwall.”
Blackwall’s tongue wet his lips. His breath was warm against her face. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to hold back too much, my lady.”
Adaar smiled and crossed the inches between them to kiss him.
His beard scratched at her but she hardly noticed as she moved her hand back to card through his hair. Strands of silver broke through the black of it. She smiled against his lips. Then she licked along the seam of his mouth and he opened to her with a satisfied grunt.
She felt his rough hands search along her collar of furs until he settled one hand flat against her neck, the other played with the white strands of hair at the base of her neck. Neither restrained the other, just relished in the closeness. It was a far less fervent affair than when they started, but the change of pace suited both of them just fine. Adaar’s tongue delved into his mouth and when he returned the favour she sucked on it.
An excited gasp encouraged Adaar’s hands to begin wandering the bared body that was pressed against her. She could feel the goosebumps beneath her fingertips, the heat from the fire still had not fully chased away the cold. She kissed him deeply as her hands roamed across his skin; over toned muscle, and the fat of his stomach. Faded and fading scars were outlined by her rough touch and caused gentle sighs against her lips and answering, calloused traces against the scars that adorned her face.
Her fingers dipped down, as her other hand wandered across the span of his back, and traced against a nipple, hardened in the cold or by her exploration, she was not sure. She huffed out her frustration through her nose. Then Blackwall let out a heady, rough noise with her tongue in his mouth and she leaned back. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung slightly open, his lip was wet above the dark of his beard. His brows were knit together as the noise groaned out of his throat again at her ministrations. His hands rested at the crooks of her elbows.
She watched his dark lashes flutter against his high cheekbones as she brought her other hand around to toy with his other nipple, his body almost fully angled towards her now. His left thigh rested on the bed, his other supporting his weight, so that his legs were spread slightly, his cock resting heavy and half-hard against himself.
Blackwall’s eyes slowly opened, dark and a little dazed, meeting her hungry gaze. He cleared his throat as his focus came back to him as he clung to her while she remained fully clothed. She expected him to say something but he instead straightened his back and firmly gripped the back of her neck, leaning up against her. He eagerly kissed her. He moved his knee beneath himself as he deepened the kiss, both of them breathing a laugh at the clack of their teeth.
Blackwall’s hands took to roaming, carefully setting to work undoing the knots that kept her bundled in her furs. He was fast at them. Even through the distraction of the scrape of his beard against her jaw she noticed that. Efficiently he removed her from her outer coat, then her inner coat, then the outer layer over her leather, fur-lined trousers. The clothes piled at her feet beside the bed.
Now it was Blackwall’s turn to breathe a frustrated noise as he broke the kiss to see the unruly knot keeping her top shut. Adaar smiled at the furrow in his brow and leaned forward and kissed it when he successfully undid the last tie.
“Next time, wear less clothes.” Blackwall sat back down.
“But I love watching you work,” Her voice was lower and dripped with genuity. Blackwall smiled lopsidedly in response.
Adaar leaned down and led the kiss as Blackwall began to peel her from her top, his worn hands slipping beneath the leather. One hand moved to her ribs, the index finger slipped beneath the fabric supporting her breasts, and he just rubbed against the skin there idly. His other hand more boldly cups her breast as she helped shoulder the top off. She dropped it to the floor as his hands rubbed in circles, which made her sigh gently against his mouth, the hairs of his beard tickled her lips.
He removed his hands to wrap his arms around her, untying the fabric from behind her, momentarily ungainly with his head crammed against the crook of her neck. Her skin was taut over her muscles and as the tie was removed he spread his palms over her shoulder blades, idly traces her scars until she made a noise in the back of her throat and shrugged her shoulder, encouraging him to continue. Being Inquisitor didn’t leave you enough spare time to slowly undress one another, no matter how much she had wished to remain in the embrace, with his cool hands pressed against her.
Blackwall got the message and leaned back, the fabric dropping and her nipples perking up in the cold. He cupped her breasts and followed similar but rougher patterns than the ones she had used on him, his fingers deftly ran against the now-sensitive skin, causing her to curse and stand up swiftly. Blackwall momentarily looked at a loss until he watched her quickly untie her trousers and step out of them, the cuff caught one of her feet and nearly sent her careening to the floor. She righted herself and shot a glare at him as he tried to repress a snort.
“Forgive me,” He’d covered his mouth with his hand, “my lady.”
“Hm, I think you’ll need to make it up to me.” She cupped his jaw, fingers carding through his beard, tilting him up. She made no move to kiss him. “Let’s get on the bed.”
She removed her hands and he got into position on the bed, on his hands and knees, the soft furs beneath him. She momentarily appreciated the view of the warrior ready and waiting for her until he glanced at her and she felt his creeping embarrassment from where she was. He was older and softer than when he’d done this last. She pulled off the last of her undergarments and followed after him, snatching up the oil bottle along the way. The furs were kind to her knees and she bit her tongue to keep from asking Blackwall about his hips. He could only take so much teasing.
She settled behind him, gripped his hips and relished in the softness of his middle. He shuffled his knees. He was uncomfortable about his weight, she noted. Then she gripped harder and pulled him flush against her hip. Blackwall made a deep, surprised noise and Adaar relished the sight, her cunt already wet.
She broke the sensuality of the moment to pat his hip and center his attention.
“If you need me to slow down, tell me.” She put it plainly and saw him dip his head in a nod. Maybe she was treating him too gently because of his age. To remedy that she reached down between his legs and stroked his cock. A relieved sound escaped Blackwall before she heard him snapping his mouth shut.
She kept stroking, her rough fingers ran over the head with each caress. She watched his shoulders relax and smiled, cupping his balls before her hand moved to the inside of his thigh and up to the muscle of his ass. She leaned down and placed a kiss at the small of his back, the raised skin of a scar beneath her lips. His head hung low between his shoulders as her hand moved from the round of his ass, to the tight ring of muscle. Not entering, just rubbing. She heard Blackwall’s subdued grunts.
“Ser Blackwall,” she rumbled, still leaned over the curve of his spine, “I would so love to hear what you sound like when you come.”
“I would also love to eat you out but I’m afraid we’ll save that for when we have more time and I can take you apart piece by piece.” She rubbed more insistently, opening the oil with her other hand and slathered her fingers. She took to stroking his cock again, leaning back up straight.
“You, ah, do love to talk, my lady,” he growled as he dipped down onto his elbows, his heavy breath filling the spaces between her answering laugh.
She played with the skin at the head of his cock as she dipped her other hand into the oil, returning her fingers to their earlier position of gently prodding his tight hole. His thighs shivered and she bit her lip to keep from laughing an apology about not warming up the oil first.
But then she saw where where his ruddy face was pressed into the pillows, surrounded by his dark, splayed hair. His body shivered again and she slowed her strokes. The furrow of his brow loosened. She’d already taken him apart like an instrument and she hadn’t even gotten to the good stuff.
She could have made him come then if she wanted.
She could have watched him quake apart in her hand and then teased him for it for a few minutes before he would have flipped them over and finished her off all rough and hot. Too bad that she wanted to be the one all rough and hot this time. So, she slowed her strokes and gently began pressing her finger into Blackwall’s ass.
His brow furrowed again, his eyes opened and met her warm gaze. He tried to relax and she stroked over the head of his cock a few times, watching him pant as she began to thrust her finger in time with her strokes.
When she felt him relax enough she added another. This time he clenched but she kept stroking him and leaned over him, pressing her breasts against his bent back, her hips pressed her fingers in deeper as he relaxed. His breath hitched.
“Don’t come yet.” She said it without thinking, her cheek between his shoulder blades.
The laugh jostled her and caused him to clench where she tentatively added a third finger.
“I’m doing my best, my lady.”
She laughed with him, pressing deeper into his hole and relishing the moan that reverberated through his chest and into hers. Her hips jerked at the sound, her cunt was almost dripping. She groaned against him as she gently thrust her pelvis in time with her hand. She felt the heat below her stomach and she briefly wondered if she’d come, just like this. And Blackwall would tease her for a few minutes, and then she’d have to go live in the woods again because her ego wouldn’t have been able to take the hit of coming before the ‘old man’ of the group.
She was panting and sat back onto her calves, her fingers still thrusting into him and driving all her attention, her other hand no longer stroking him. She scissored her fingers slightly, receiving a quick inhale but no noise of pain. She was surprised how easily he’d taken her and she hoped it was a sign of mutual eagerness because the heat was low in her guts and she could hardly keep herself from just grinding against him as it was.
She crooked her fingers until she found it, Blackwall’s sweet spot, that caused his hips to twitch along with his cock, thrusting against the air and back onto her fingers. She burned the image into her brain for a lonely night and then quickly grabbed his hip, thrusting her fingers into him a few more times and relished his grunts of pleasure.
“You ready?” Her voice was heavy and low and she was almost panting out the words.
Blackwall’s voice was no better, “Ready when you are, my lady.” She huffed a laugh at the fact he could still keep up the ‘my lady’. She was sure she was close to forgetting her own name as she removed her hand, wiping it on her discarded furs. She fumbled with buckling the harness around her hips and setting the cock into it.
She sat up on her knees, slathering the appendage in oil as she took in the sight of Blackwall’s ass in the air, his cock slung red and hard between his broad thighs. Oil dripped down its length, beading at the head with his pre-cum. His hole clenched around nothing and she decided she would set aside a whole day just for fucking Blackwall, whenever the world stopped falling apart long enough that she could make the time.
She stroked her cock, spreading the oil before she leaned forward and pressed the head of it against Blackwall’s entrance. He halted for a moment and Adaar did too as he straightened his arms back up, his hair mussed from the pillows, his eyes casting back to her over his shoulder. His pupils were blown wide against the dark of his irises and an uneven blush painted his cheeks.
She quickly leaned forward and they met in a strained, sloppy kiss. It felt perfect; the scratch of his beard, the warmth of his back against her breasts, the place where the muscles of his ass jumped beneath her hips as she adjusted the angle and slowly pushed into Blackwall, a moan catching in his throat as his body resisted momentarily before relaxing and letting Adaar slip inside.
The kiss breaks as Blackwall hanged his head, already huffing evening breaths. His jaw clenched shut over any moans daring to slip from his mouth. They remained subdued sounds in the back of his throat and she licked her lips, leaning back to stare at the point where her cock sank into Blackwall’s tight hole.
The sight caused an involuntary jerk of her hips and an answering hiss from Blackwall.
“Sorry,” she apologised as her thumb rubbed reassuring circles on his his hip.
“You’re alright, I haven’t fallen apart yet,” he reassured her. It almost sounded like a challenge.
A smirk stretched her lips and she gripped his hips and slowly pulled him backwards, onto her cock until he was flush against her, his shoulders strained to keep him upright. She then pulled out slowly, nearly to the head and the quivers moved down his spine until she snapped back into him. His muffled moan encouraged her to repeat the movement until she gained a steady, shallower rhythm and curses to the Maker and Andraste managed to slip out of his lips.
“Ah, you look good impaled on my cock, Ser Blackwall,” her voice came out more uneven than she intended.
Blackwall’s voice hitched and the syllables shook, “Maker.”
His body was bent over and the sounds of her hips snapping against his thighs filling the room. Her strong grip on his hips suddenly twisted and she pulled out, a whine slipping out of Blackwall at the loss until he caught himself and strangled the noise in his throat.
Then she lifted his leg and the muscles of her arms flexed enticingly as she flipped him onto his back.
“Let me hear you, Blackwall.” Her voice was tinged with lust and Blackwall quickly angled himself against the pillows, slipping one beneath his hips. She settled between his legs and licked into his open mouth, a finger plucking at his nipple as he returned the favour, his warm hands settling over her breasts.
She broke the kiss and sat up straight. “I’m going to make you come, Blackwall.” She didn’t even intend it to be sexy, she just couldn’t think of anything else to say, she was too consumed with watching the warrior fall apart beneath her. Blackwall seemed to find it appealing though, because his hand came up to stroke her dwarven-made cock as he looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes.
She moved closer so his fingers could slip beneath the base of the cock, where there was a gap in the harness. Her clit was hard and jutted out between her wet lips. She let a rough groan rumble out of her throat as Blackwall circled her clit, delving towards her entrance, only to gather her wetness and rub her clit with the rough pads of his fingers.
He could have entered her, fucked his fingers into her and she would have probably come right there. She was almost ready to sit onto his thick cock and finish them both off.
So, she gripped his wrist and looked at him through a lusty haze and moved his hand to his side, before hooking her arms under his knees and thrusting into him. His moans weren’t muffled by the pillows then and she breathed heavy as she snapped into him, his cock bobbing against his stomach.
“Oh Maker! Ah, yes, yes,” he was looking down to where their bodies met. She tried to make a joke about being Andraste’s Herald or related to the Maker but it all just came out as grunts and moans.
A sheen of sweat was building on her forehead as she angled her hips, searching with each thrust for that spot deep inside him again. She knew she’d found it when Blackwall’s back arched off the bed, his mouth open and his eyes screwed shut as a deep moan rumbled through his chest.
“Th-there, my lady. Ah! There. Please,” his voice broke on the ‘please’ and she felt almost light-headed at the sight of his burly, hairy chest heaving out the plea. She paused to enjoy it for only a moment before she slammed into him at the right angle again, and again. She wanted to get herself off, she also thought she’d come at any second but she watched as Blackwall gripped the pillows next to his head.
“My lady, I’m going to-! Ah, ah! I’m-, please,” Blackwall managed to open his eyes, his voice rough and needy. She wanted to kiss him like that but she was too close and couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t just headbutt him.
Instead, she huffed out a small laugh, “There’s no need to beg. I promised you this since, ah, since the beginning. Fuck the Maker!” She leaned over him, planting her hands either side of him, his knees nearly touching his chest, and began to fuck him relentlessly.
The wet sounds between them mingled with their pants and moans and she managed to have enough sense left between her horns to reach between them and grab his cock.
She only got two strokes in before Blackwall shuddered beneath her, his moan echoing in the room as she continued her brutal pace, stroking him through his climax. She forgot to commit the moment to memory so made a silent promise to do this at least twenty more times, just to make sure the image would stick.
He was full body quivering when he clasped her wrist between them and she stopped her strokes, her thrusts petering out as she felt a drop of sweat sliding down her back. She slowly pulled out of him, fumbling with the buckles until she removed the harness, red marks mapping its shape on her grey skin.
The muscles in her hips twinged and she was thinking maybe she was getting too old for this when Blackwall sat up and pulled her into a heated kiss. His fingers carded into her white hair and she almost wrapped her arms around him before she remembered to wipe them on the furs she would most definitely have to wash.
He gently pushed her to lie on the bed next to him, facing one another. One hand kept her jaw titled down into the lazy kiss he led while the other followed over the muscles of her back, tracing her spine and squeezing her ass. She barked out a laugh into his mouth and felt his beard twitch against her lips as he chuckled with her. His fingers moved roughly over her hip, rubbing circles there before she broke the kiss, raising her brow, her lips forming a straight line. He laughed again. Then he moved his hand down between her thighs.
Her expression softened and she sighed into the space between them. He dipped down into her curls as she raked a hand over the muscle of his arm. He rubbed between the lips of her cunt, then circled her clit, building the pace and pressing harder against her. Her breath caught as she tried kissing him, her distraction enough to have her just planting kisses against his teeth and the hairs of his beard. She felt the heat in her gut building.
“Next time, my lady-,” Blackwall’s voice rumbled against her lips and she realised she’d closed her eyes, “-we will see just how much you enjoy my beard.”
“Maker!” She smiled, all teeth, as he rubbed more insistently, her leg hooking over his, her hips moving against his hand. “Why didn’t you just do that now?” She wrapped her arm over his shoulder, her hand creating furrows through his hair as she pushed him forward, their foreheads pressed together and their heated breaths mingling.
“You’re not the only one who wants to see the person’s face-,” his calloused hands were all she could focus on, “-when they-,” she thrusted haphazardly against him, his other hand touched the back of her neck and that sent her over the edge, “-come.”
She shuddered and cursed Andraste, and the Maker, and some Avvar gods as well, curling against him as he kept rubbing, the heat of her body and the smell of sex keeping her at the climax for a few more seconds before she became sensitive and her hand slid down through the hairs that trail down his chest and over the softness of his stomach to his wrist, which he gently moved away from her. Small shivers ran up and down her spine as Blackwall’s other hand continued to toy with her hair, brushing it out with his fingers, his forehead still set against hers.
She went to speak but her mouth was dry from panting. She coughed. “Well,” She leaned back staring at his adoring face, tired, with a lazy smile pulling at one side of his beard, “I certainly didn’t regret THAT, what about you, Ser Blackwall?” She laughed warmly.
Something crossed Blackwall’s face, a worry that hardened his features for a moment before it passed over and the smile returned. Adaar could’ve almost pretended she didn’t see it.
“Definitely not. My lady.”