open rp post

[troubleyan]

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[troubleyan]

[There are things that remain similar, nevertheless. He tastes the same (she immediately wants to put her mouth in other places and see if he tastes the same everywhere), and his lips are unchanged. The way arousal gets immediately amplified, intertwined with desire and longing, that's the same too - she lets out a whimper against his lips and responds to the kiss, returning it with a feral sort of need.

And some things, the body remembers. Her hand has already climbed up to cup the back of his skull, the other has a messy grip of the front of his robes.

She loses her breath first, breaking the kiss only a few inches apart to gasp air in, her eyes still closed.]

Oh, Maker, Solas...

[dirth]

[ Solas remembers what she likes, even if he thinks he himself has never experienced it; he draws her closer, pulls her into his arms, wants to devour her and wants to claim her - she is beautiful, and alluring, and Solas wants more than he is sure he could admit to. It is dangerous, but...

As soon as the kiss breaks, his mouth is tracing along the shape of her jaw, humming against her skin as he breathes out gently. ]

Anything. I will give you anything.

[troubleyan]

[With a quiet gasp, her head falls back, her throat bared for him to kiss. She's distantly aware that time travel makes everything more fucked up, but that's not the point here.

The point is that she wants to burrow under Solas' skin and haunt his dreams the way he haunts hers. The point is that this taste won't ever be enough.

And now he's offering her anything. A needy whine escapes her back of her throat, her short nails pressed against the skin of his scalp briefly.]

I'll be greedy. I am greedy - I want everything.

[dirth]

[ The instinct to bite her, to mark her and claim her is utterly overwhelming, but the reality is that he can't, not here in this version of their world. She is too public, too easily seen, and the damning remarks that she might then suffer are not worth the enjoyable prize she'd make.

He twists with her body, aiming to have her pressed against a wall, to lean in close and go back to kissing her. He wants to steal the breath from her lungs, and he groans against her skin as his leg slips between hers.

He had missed her without even knowing he had. ]

This first.

[ Solas reaches between them, hand trailing down her body, stroking against her breasts through the fabric of her clothes. ]

[troubleyan]

Oh gods. [Is it blasphemous to call out to any deity at all, now that she knows that the very deities the Dalish believe in were once just powerful mages? Or is it more of a blasphemy that she'd still easily worship this one if given another chance.

Sometime in the future, there will be time for Evelyn to curse her tender heart, but not tonight.

Tonight she arches as soon as he presses her against one of the walls of her room, in an eager attempt to coax him to grab, touch, pinch, tease.]

Nngghh, yes, anything you want. [Whatever 'this, first' means, she's responsive to it. Her nipples tighten at the mere suggestion of his touch, almost to the point of pain when he follows through and strokes them. She feels her lips tender, bruised from kissing already, but still brushes them against his temple when in reach.

One hand comes up, covering his hand and making him squeeze her left breast with it. Friction, before she goes utterly mad - and if Solas isn't pleased with her demands, he can very well restrict them.]

[dirth]

[ Maybe it is wrong to call anything out, but Solas can't blame her for it; let her cry for the Gods, when she has one under her hands, one who would do anything for her. If she isn't going to cry out his name, moan for him, shout for him, then let it be something he is at least remembered for.

He remembers her. He knows what she likes, what she enjoys; to be bitten, marked, to press her against a wall, or his mouth, or his cock and fill her. There's no way he can resist giving in to that.

Fingers slip up under the fabric of her shirt, pressing into the warmth of her skin. He searches out the pebble of her nipple, flicking his fingers over it before his palm covers her completely and squeezes. ]

I want to fuck you. To forget him, and remember me.

[troubleyan]

[There will come a day when they might talk about this whole separation of Fen'Harel and Solas as two people. Tonight isn't the time for it.

Tonight, she feels pleasure like something heady and cloying, like a hand around her throat. The sense of danger and the sense of arousal is not so different at all.

And Evelyn's moan would've carried, breathless and needy though it is, if they'd been in his rotunda for this.

Her lips are drawn into a smile that's almost defiant. (Almost the same bratty behaviour he once got to know.)]

Do it - fuck me until I can't think of anything but you.

[dirth]

You do not have to ask me a second time.

[ His fingers are a little tighter, demanding, and his free hand starts to move, forcing the fabric away from her body and shoving it away. It means Solas can lean in and press a kiss to the shape of her neck - and then he bites her, scraping his teeth there with a soft groan.

With her shirt off, he can reach down and draw her leg up, squeezing it close to him. ]

You are going to come once for me, and then I will fuck you.

[troubleyan]

[It isn't easy to undress, generally. With the armor she wears, even with the garments she wears around Skyhold, the skin of the Inquisition is a difficult one to shed.

She almost misses those gauzy dresses that he - correction: thay Fen'Harel - put her in, because how easy would those have been to just lift?

Not that Solas has a hard time of it. It feels like she's blinked and suddenly she's half-undressed, her jacket worked open and his hands - his hands. She's going to lose her mind here.

And then he bites her, her breath catches.] Solas - oh gods, yes - [She is almost frantic in the way she takes her shirt off, throwing it to the floor and reaching for him.

She rocks herself against him as soon as he pulls her leg up, since he's that close.]

Do you want me to say yes, sir, thank you, sir? Please, sir? Make me come, sir?

[dirth]

[ Her reactions to him are perfect, just as he remembers, but better for the freshness, the realness of it; Fen'Harel in the past had fucked her so securely, so wonderfully, but for the Solas of the present it is something new. Centuries of memories faded in moments, and all he wants is to fuck her and remind her of who she belongs to.

Who he belongs to, his heart utterly devoured by her company, by the nature of her existence. He should hate her.

Tilting his head up, he kisses her again, hard and desperate, teeth scraping against her lower lip - he's groaned as she spoke, offered him things, let him want her, and his fingers dig into her hip. ]

Is that what you want? To call me sir, to follow my commands? I will give it to you, da'len. Whatever you please.

[ Because Solas wants her, yearns for her, and his fingers trace higher, grabbing her ass. ]

[troubleyan]

[Maybe he should hate her. He's giving her a finger and she'll devour his whole arm. The time for being cautious, for holding back, for tempering and keeping her desire of him - they're over. She's done not letting herself want, or need him.

Solas might end up regretting this, but she refuses to.

Then again, the way his kisses sear her, she has to wonder if he truly would regret her. She responds with equal hunger, teeth catching at his teeth, at his jaw when he leans back and breaks the kiss. Leaves a laugh against his skin.]

Command me, then. [It's opening a dam, the next demands pouring out if her. She cups his jaw in her palm and leans until her head is against the wall and she can look up at him.]

Yes - command me. Boss me around, use me - I'm yours already. Take what you need to figure it out, and believe me already.

[dirth]

[ There's not enough time for them to talk about things and really work it all out; Solas knows that the Mark will destroy her sooner rather than later, even with Fen'Harel's intervention, and he will have to abandon her. He should stop, refuse to allow them to grow this close, to yearn this much, but at the same time...

He can't resist the urge to keep touching her, to let himself mark her, to try and let all of Skyhold know just how much of her belongs to him. ]

Turn around.

[ Solas takes a step back, giving her the space to do it. His voice doesn't stop, deep and a little hoarse, dangerous. ]

You're going to take the rest of your clothes off and present yourself for me. Then I am going to touch you until I'm ready to fuck you again.

[troubleyan]

[Her knees feel weak following that command - he's doing what she wanted him to do, and more than that. He wants her, and it's intoxicating.

It's also an excellent motivator. Both feet on the ground, she turns around to face the wall. Her instinct is to look over her shoulder at him, but she doesn't dare try.

Her fingers fumble a bit as she loosens the laces of her trousers, not bothering with pulling them fully loose. Just enough to slide them down her hips, grabbing a handful of her smalls to pull everything down.

Her heart is threatening to jump out of her chest as she leaves her trousers around her knees. To take off her boots would be to act ungracefully, so she leaves her clothes to act as restraints, stepping her feet as wide apart as they will go, and leaning forward.

The walls of her room are cold, she notices as her bare breasts press against the solid surface. She turns her head, one cheek against the wall, and rakes her hands down her naked body, from her ribs down her sides and behind her, to grab her cheeks and spread them. He did say to present herself to him, and here she is. Dripping, flushed, trembling and ready to be touched.]

[dirth]

[ It's perfect; of course it is, because she's perfect.

Solas' obsession with her is not abating at all, and he watches her, eyes drinking her in. Licking his lips, he tilts his head, watching her for a moment before he breathes out and shakes his head. The way she was so quick to follow his commands, to do whatever he asked, is so attractive that it makes him want to go to that place of being danger, biting, pushing her to the limit.

She bares herself to him, and he does not hesitate.

He presses himself against her back, pushing her into the wall, and his hand reaches down immediately to touch her ass, teasing between them before they sink lower and curl against her cunt. He remembers how wet she gets, and he smirks, pressing lips against her skin before he bites at her shoulder, close to the back of her neck, finally sliding two fingers where she wants them most. ]

[troubleyan]

[Her gasp is audible as he pushes against her, her breath caught in her throat for a few dizzying moments. The moan is audible too - high and needy, shuddering out of her.

She clamps around his fingers right away, letting out a sob of pure relief. However long it hasn't been for her since he last touched her, her cunt has missed him nonetheless. She squeezes around his fingers like a vice, her nails digging into her ass cheeks, her arms locked into position.

Her ears are ringing, so it takes a while to realise how breathless she already sounds from having his fingers inside her, merciless and rigid and so full already. She is finding it possible to press back against him, squirming at his bite to her shoulder - pain and pleasure combining in an intoxicating way that drives her to begging already.] Please...oh, fuck, you - that feels so good...

[dirth]

[ Her desperation is delicious, heady, and Solas can smell how wet she is and how much she wants him, can see from the way her body shivers with each touch that she desires him, him and no one else.

There are too many parts of him that are possessive and jealous over her, too many parts that demand that he keep her and never let anyone else near enough to touch her, but he quashes it, shoving it down. Instead of dwelling on it, he trails kisses along her back, slowly letting his body sink down, lower and lower, even as his fingers curl inside her cunt.

He remembers what she likes. What she enjoys. The way she loves to be teased, by hands, fingers and tongue together.

On his knees for her - and only for her - he leans up, kissing the inside of her thigh. The angle is a little awkward with her body presses against the wall, but he can get himself in just the right position for his tongue to press up, hard against her clit, lips around it as he hums. ]

[troubleyan]

[There is no game to play now, the impact of how profound his need for her is hitting her like a giant maul to the chest.

He's kneeling. She has time to notice it and gasp, and then he has his mouth on her. All at once, she moves her hands up, palms against the wall, and arches the small of her back so he can reach better and - ]

Solas -

[His name sounds as reverential as what he's doing is. A sob follows, because if his fingers filling her were dizzying before, this combination of touch and pleasure is overwhelming.]

[dirth]

[ There's no room for pretence now; Solas knows what he wants, knows what she wants, and he will give it to her without hesitation. His hands hold her open, slipping between her legs to keep her in place, and then his tongue is pressing into her and starting to taste, to explore.

She tastes as good as he recalls, groaning against her cunt as he leans close. In a moment he might reach for one of her legs and have it hooked over his shoulders, but for now... He groans softly. ]

Da'len...

[ There's no teasing. Maybe he is giving up on his own desires, to tease and taunt her, but at the same time - he wants to see her come, taste her, and he moans it against her as he starts to move. ]

[troubleyan]

[It's the petname that still gets her, every time. As much as he does not want her to think of Fen'Harel anymore, the undeniable truth is that it's the same voice, the same elf, the same arrogance and possessiveness that spurs it on, and the results are the same too.

It sends a tremor up her legs and makes her knees buckle again, a desperate little moans escaping her. She lets them, holding nothing back - not the sounds, not the begging.]

Please - I don't want to wait - please, Solas.

[dirth]

[ Solas moves, then, hooking her leg over his shoulder so that he can press up into her properly. He remembers, the first time they did this, when he had her float with magic; he's less inclined to repeat an experience she's already enjoyed, but he does hum against her, enjoying the thrill of her against his mouth again.

Pausing, if only for the pretence of breathing, he huffs a little laugh. ]

You can do better than that.

[troubleyan]

[She barely manages to swallow her moan, letting her head fall back against the wall. Her gaze is hazy, but fixed on the ceiling for a few moments, while he licks into her.

He can feel how her legs tremble, the quiver that runs up them. It feels hard to believe that she gets to have this again, and that he still chooses to be a teasing asshole about it.]


Nnnngh, fuck you - fuck me already, vhenan - pleasepleaseplease -

[dirth]

Better.

[ Leaning in, Solas gives her what she wants. He slips away from her cunt to rise up, push himself to his feet, licking his lips to chase the final taste of her. She's delicious, he thinks, and he'd keep it up, give it to her for hours, but...

He can't resist her right now, leaning in to bite at her neck even as he's pushing at the laces of his own trousers. ]

You're such a good girl.

[troubleyan]

[She's usually graceful but right now she feels weak-kneed, her breath locked in her throat. She lets out a soft groan at the bite, reaching for him as soon as he's near enough to touch.

She never wanted anything so much.

With a shiver as she realises what he's tugging free, she reaches between them just as greedily and unlaces his trousers with him, hands fumbling, rushing, desperate.]

Hah - yes. Somehow, for you - you might say I manage it.

[dirth]

I would say that. You do it beautifully, da'len.

[ Leaning in, Solas kisses her again, hard - teeth scraping against her.

His breeches are barely down before he's angling himself, reaching to lift one of her legs to better the angle - then he's thrusting inside of her, rocking his hips forward with a sharp, needy noise. ]

Ah...

[troubleyan]

[She has no further comments to make. Solas has spoken, she is a good girl. She tastes herself on his tongue and his lips, and like a good girl she lets out a muffled moan and kisses him back, just as hard.

This feels feral, and puts her back in the memory of his younger self, always biting, but the thought thrills her. Didn't he just say that he's changed? Does she think she can't tell?

And yet, she's still ready for him, still desperate for him. When he sinks inside her, the slickness of her arousal makes it deliciously easy. She finds her nails digging into his shoulders. (Does he still enjoy nails?)]

Maker's breath, finally.