Jul 162015
 

[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody In Ass Major – Chapter 128
Co-Conspirator: TumblrMaverikLoki
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Artemis Hawke , Fenris , Theron Mahariel , Kallian Tabris
Rating: E (L2 N4 S4 V0 D1)
Warnings: The internet is for porn, breathplay, exhibitionism, mild d/s
Notes:  Artemis enjoys his favourite Dalish delight, and Theron is thrilled to be causing earthquakes again.


Theron twitched his hips, one hard thrust to remind Artemis how it felt, to jar another shivery breath from the mage’s lips, and then went back to the shallow rocking. Artie swore under his breath, leaning more of his weight against the collar. Theron wanted him to beg? So be it.

"More." It was half a plea, half a growl. "Harder. Pound me into the floor. Take me. Use me. Please."

Fenris squirmed behind Kalli, remembering how Artie had looked, kneeling at his feet and begging for the same thing. But Theron didn’t hesitate the way he did, didn’t stop, didn’t panic. He secured his grip on Artemis’s collar and pulled out only to slam back in again. Once, twice, setting up a rhythm that knocked the breath out of Artie’s lungs.

Theron bent to speak closer to Artemis’s ear. "We may not be the same men," he purred. "But some things don’t change, do they?"

Artemis was certain there were words somewhere for this, in the same way he was certain there was a world outside this room and sensations other than just how good Theron felt.

"He’s pretty when he begs," Kalli purred, eyes lingering on Artie’s face, as she pressed herself back against Fenris. "I can see the appeal."

Fenris made a small sound of amusement as he clutched Kalli closer, grinding against her. "No, you see some of the appeal. Keep watching." He could admit that Theron wasn’t bad-looking, either, if not quite his preference. Still much better looking than Cormac, at least to him. Better looking than the— than Anders, too, but the healer always looked ragged. Magical bears, the both of them. Not like his mage, who was just a little bit fluffy, like a human should be, and so heartbreakingly beautiful. He wished, for a moment that he were down on the floor, with his mage, but then he wouldn’t be able to watch every little flicker of excitement that bloomed on that pretty face and then ran down those taut sides.

Theron pounded into Artemis, mercilessly, his own body starting to show the strain of holding out until he’d wrung every last bit of pleasure from his pretty little — well, not so little any more — shemlen of earthquakes. His muscles trembled, as he listened to those sweet and desperate sounds stuttering out of Artemis, each one cut off by a collision with the collar. His free hand slipped under Artemis, caressing that lean body, pinching a nipple, before he let his hand wander down, cupping his palm so the tip of Artie’s knob would grind into it with every thrust.

The sounds slipping out of Artie changed in pitch, filling the room, and Theron watched the fine shiver that started down his shem’s spine. He remembered those sounds, remembered the way Artemis would shake just before the world did, and Theron panted through a smile. Almost there.

"Maker," Artemis breathed, collar choking off the words. "Theron!" He caught Fenris’s gaze, watched the desire in his elf’s eyes until his own rolled back. The way Theron ploughed into him, he didn’t feel the ground start to shake, but he did hear the glasses rattle in the cabinet, heard the cabinet rattle against the wall.

"Well, piss my panties," Kalli murmured, eyes round. "He wasn’t lying." There was something pleasing about the way the couch trembled beneath her, and she was beginning to understand her husband’s addiction to this shem. Fenris grinned against the back of her neck, hips moving more insistently against her as he watched his mage unravel.

"Oh, I’ve missed you," Theron panted, as the shaking in the floor echoed up through his bones. "Missed the way you make the whole world shiver and shake when I’m inside you." This was everything he’d hoped it would be, everything he’d remembered it being. The way Artemis shivered beneath him and the whole room rattled in sympathy, he remembered the first time he’d held that incredible power in his hands, impaled on his knob — it was terrifying, but the thrill ran through him like fire, and he’d just wanted to do it again and again.

The image of this other elf obsessing over his mage was just making Fenris more and more smug, and more and more hard. He had something truly wonderful — this mage wanted to spend the rest of their lives together — and here was Artemis, down on his knees, proving how beautiful and lusty he was. Something inside Fenris flickered and burned with the shaking of the couch, something savage and prideful. He would wait, he thought, until Theron was satisfied, and then he would have Artemis, himself, right on the floor, while his mage was still sweating and dripping.

Kalli ground back into Fenris as she watched, hardly daring to blink. A part of her wanted to be envious, feeling the earth shiver and seeing that look on her husband’s face, but he was a beautiful sight like this, almost wild, and she drank in every anguished twist of his features. The sounds Theron and Artemis made vibrated through her in time to the couch’s shaking, and she stroked a hand down her thigh, aching to touch and be touched.

Theron continued to speak, feverish words of praise falling from his lips as he thrust hard enough to make the ground shake on his own. His rhythm stuttered, hips shaking, and his hand slid to Artie’s hip, clutching that jut of bone. He slammed in once, twice, and buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling inside his shem, who still quivered and trembled around him. Theron sifted through the names of his gods as the spots cleared from his eyes, wondering which of them he should be thanking for this. Best to offer prayers and thanks to all of them, he supposed, and he made a note to do so when he could remember where he’d left his extremities.

Theron continued to circle his hips just to feel Artie shudder. He finally let go of the collar to bury his hand in Artie’s hair, fingers kneading the scalp and tangling with locks curling with sweat. The mage rewarded him with a sound like a purr, and Theron could picture the pleased little face he was making.

"Artemis," Fenris barely recognised his own voice. "May I… Do you want more?" Even now, he couldn’t just take. Always the question, before he moved. Of course, if Artie said no, there was still this lovely woman writhing against him. He supposed he should have seen to her pleasure, but he’d been a bit distracted, and he still had no idea what to do with… anything but his mage, really. Even Anders had called them kinky.

Theron laughed weakly against Artemis’s shoulder. "Sounds like it’s your lucky night," he managed, still trying to catch his breath.

A loopy, tired smile curled Artie’s lips. "Every night with him is lucky," he said over his shoulder. "In both senses of the word." His smile turned a bit wicked. "You know me," he told Fenris. "I’d never say no to a second helping." Just the thought made him shiver: Fenris rutting into him while he was still slick with Theron’s spend.

Bringing his other hand up to his mouth, Theron licked his fingers clean, slowly, teasingly, eyeing his wife the whole time. He let go of Artie’s hair, leaning down to press a kiss between the shem’s sharp shoulderblades, as he eased himself out. "We should do this again, sometime," he murmured, before falling dramatically sideways onto the rug, holding out a hand to Kalli. "Can’t move!" He declared. "Too tired and well used! Come sit on my face, ma vhenan, so you can keep watching them."