Re: Undone 10/? - m!Amell/Anora
anonymous
September 6 2010, 21:49:27 UTC
By the time she regained her wits enough to open her eyes he’d moved off the bed and was shrugging off the long, heavy robe. Other than a small vial that dangled from a slender gold chain, his chest was bare, and she could see a tantalizing blend of scars, hard muscle and a line of chest hair trailing to his breeches.
But before she could inspect further, he turned and sat on the bed. The firelight played off of his broad shoulders and the muscles of his back. Anora pushed herself to her knees, determined to press the advantage. In one movement, she pulled the nightshift over her head. In another, she slid out of her small clothes, so that by the time he had removed a boot, she was pressing her palms against his back. She heard his breath hitch when her slender fingers trailed over muscle and sinew. His body was all hard lines and firm angles, the body of a warrior, and despite his size he was all lean muscle.
She shifted closer enticed by the scent of clean male and autumn leaves, pressing her lips to the crook of his neck right below the gold chain encircling it. Her body slid against his and when her breasts brushed against his back, the boot he was holding fell to the floor with a thud.
“Now this,” she said, her lips curving in satisfaction, “is much better.”
He reached for his other boot with hands that weren’t entirely steady. “But now I am the one at an inequitable disadvantage as I cannot see you.”
It took her a moment to respond since she was busy tasting his shoulders and exploring the planes of his back with her hands. When she spoke her tone was unrepentantly tart. “You shall have to endure the depravation. I have waited far too long to relinquish my advantage.”
His eyes crinkled at the edges betraying his amusement. He jerked the other boot off. “Really?”
“Mmm, yes. Days, in fact.” Maker, it had seemed like so much longer. She reached around his sides until she could skim his abdomen with her palms, then lower. The other boot fell to the floor when she tugged the laces of his breaches.
He cleared his throat as she worked the laces loose. She could feel the muscles of his back tense up against her skin. “How many days?”
“I’m not quite sure. You took me by surprise.”
Upon his escape from Fort Drakon, Anora had prepared to face the Warden’s wrath. But instead of useless anger and threats, they’d cleared the air with brutal frankness that she’d greatly appreciated. Marcus had put her on notice that he was not to be trifled with again, laid out firmly what he was and was not willing to do, and declared his support for her claim. Once she realized that Marcus's mind was as sharp as his blade, she was done for.
“Your spectacles made everything worse,” she admitted.
Re: Undone 11/? - m!Amell/Anora
anonymous
September 6 2010, 21:56:14 UTC
Even from the side, she could see his brows knit together in confusion. “My spectacles? I had forgotten that I was even wearing them.” He reached for the frames on his face.
“No, don’t,” Anora breathed. She covered his fingers with hers to stop him. “Don’t take them off.”
His lips turned up at one corner. “I take it you like them then.”
Anora could feel her face heat, quite glad that he was not facing her. She returned her hand to the pressing task of unlacing his breaches. “Yes, very much.”
His surprised delight was laced in his voice. “I had no idea. I thought I looked rather foolish in them, actually.”
“Not at all. They’re quite…” Anora paused while she worked her hand under his loose breaches and smallclothes to the hard length underneath. His hips jerked under her fingers at her touch. “…attractive. Your spectacles suit you.”
She freed him from his pants, encircling the tip of him with her thumb, marveling at the feel of something so soft and yet so utterly male, gratified that Marcus’s large size extended to all parts of his anatomy.
It took him a few seconds to form the words. He made a sound halfway between a rueful laugh and a moan. “If I had known you liked my spectacles so much, I would have told them to rush the repair.”
He fell silent as Anora stroked him. The muscles of his neck tightened under her lips and his hands fisted in the sheets while his breathing grew heavy. But Anora knew she could do much, much better.
Anora withdrew her hands to the waist of the breaches tugging them down. “Now these you may remove.”
He lifted his hips enough that they could slide the garments down his backside and legs. While he was occupied with kicking them off to the side, Anora moved again, this time off the bed, kneeling between his legs. She took him into her mouth and watched pleasure scour into the remains of his calm stoicness from underneath her long lashes.
He swallowed hard and groaned, the sound encouraging her more. Eventually his brown eyes went hazy behind the glass of his spectacles and he buried his hands into her unbound hair. Marcus moaned again, this time her name, and she continued to taste him, reveling that this powerful, intelligent and attractive man was finally at her mercy.
Re: Undone 11/? - m!Amell/Anora
anonymous
September 8 2010, 02:00:05 UTC
Oh, this is awesome! Aside from the utter hotness of the sex/both characters, I just love how Anora is every bit as forceful and perfectionistic in bed as she is out of it. Ah I love, "Anora knew she could do much, much better." ;)
Re: Undone 12/? - m!Amell/Anora
anonymous
September 8 2010, 19:21:53 UTC
But not for long. Marcus jerked her to her feet and up onto the bed with him. She wasn’t certain if it was by accident or design that she ended up sprawled across his chest, but she didn’t waste her chance, shifting to straddle him. Marcus’s rough hands grabbed her hips, and with a thrust he was inside of her.
Overwhelmed by the delicious friction, Anora tipped her head back and choked out, “Oh, yes.”
His fingers dug into her skin while he moved. Marcus wasn’t gentle, but Anora didn’t want him to be. After two years of lonely nights in a cold, empty bed, her need was too great for that. She matched his rhythm with each rock of her hips, unbearable pleasure and anticipation building between her thighs.
Marcus groaned when she raked her nails through the hair that covered his chest and trailed to his belly. He pulled her down into a kiss that left her lips swollen and bruised. Her golden hair spilled around them, across both of their bodies and he plunged his other hand into her wavy tresses, his hand tightening into a possessive fist. His mouth moved from plundering her lips to tasting her breasts, the cool metal frames of his spectacles grazing her hot skin, sending more shockwaves of pleasure through her body until she couldn’t bear it anymore.
Anora pushed herself up, her palms flat on his scar covered chest and arched back. Her eyes fluttered shut as she drank in the pleasure, but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her taut body, in the tension of his chest under her hands and in the urgency of his rough caresses.
Soaring with pleasure, she claimed the man beneath her with each rock of her hips and every gasped breath. But opening her eyes was her undoing. When she saw the way he looked at her, how his raw passion was reflected in the spectacles he still wore, the heat in her belly uncoiled making her cry out and tremble until she collapsed against his chest.
She clung to him as he continued to thrust, his large frame quaking underneath her. His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest, kissing her again, until he broke away with a groan. Marcus’s hips jerked as he buried himself deep inside of her, spilling his seed.
His arms relaxed enough that she could breathe again. Her ear was to his chest and she could hear his racing heart calm and feel him catch his panting breath. Anora soaked in the feel of his body. The sensation of being held by a man was another experience she hadn’t had in too long.
Eventually she looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest and sighing, “I should move.”
He reached for one of the pillows, propping his head up so he could meet her gaze. There was something intense and dangerous in the soft way he was looking at her. His other arm tightened around her waist again. “Don’t.”
Re: Undone 13/13 - m!Amell/Anora
anonymous
September 8 2010, 19:25:58 UTC
She looked at him with heavy lidded eyes. “If I stay, I’m going to end up falling asleep right here.”
He shifted slightly, grabbing a fistful of blankets and pulling them over their still entwined bodies. “Exactly. Let me hold you tonight,” he murmured.
“Marcus, one of us is going to have to be sensible about this.” And it was going to have to be him since she couldn’t seem to scrape the willpower to move away from the warmth of his body.
He frowned. “Our actions already bend to the sensibilities other people enough. This may not be possible in the future, so we should make the most of tonight. I will be sure to be gone long before your handmaiden returns in the morning, I promise.”
Her spine stiffened. “You will not return tomorrow night?”
Marcus ran a callused hand along the curve of her back. “I plan on returning as often as I can, for as long as you want me, but we’re fighting a blight while trying to hold this country together and prevent a civil war. We both have duties. I have more battles to fight that I may not live through while you…” His own pain was laid bare in his brown eyes, flashing against the glass of his spectacles. “…you know what you may have to do to hold this country together.”
Anora held his gaze, knowing that her own grief was plain on her face. They had never spoken of it directly. Nevertheless, that she might have to marry Alistair was something that they both understood. It was such an obvious solution, a way to quickly unify their increasingly divided nation, that even though her heart rebelled at the notion, her mind could not dismiss it.
Still the arguments welled up in her throat. That she did not need Maric’s bastard son to rule. That he looked too much like Cailan that it hurt. That it was unfair and unjust that the moment she finally found something for herself, she might have to give it up for the good of the nation. That if she were to chose a man to sit on the throne next to her, it would Marcus and not Alistair.
But Marcus was both a mage and a commoner, and that could never be. That she was falling in love with this man and that she was certain that he loved her back did not matter. If marrying Maric’s bastard would unite the country, if it would help her retain her throne and end the blight, she knew she would do it and that Marcus would help her.
“You’re right,” she said, finally, swallowing her grief, determined to make the best of the situation they’d been handed. It would do no good to dwell on a future that had not happened yet. “We should make the most of the time we have.”
Anora reached up and removed Marcus’s spectacles, placing them on the nightstand before turning back and kissing his face. His arms tightened around her and he kissed her back, sighing when she settled back against his chest, both savoring what they’d just found and what might have to be given up, talking long into the night about inconsequential things that mattered only to them before eventually being overtaken by sleep.
Re: Undone 13/13 - m!Amell/Anora
anonymous
September 8 2010, 23:30:16 UTC
This was wonderful. I even wibbled at the end there, and then felt really guilty because this was the first time I felt bad for Anora, and not just Alistair, at their arranged marriage.
Also, I wish there were spectacles, or a mod for them, in the game because UNF.
Re: Undone 13/13 - m!Amell/Anora
anonymous
September 9 2010, 04:00:48 UTC
Oh, this is amazing. Poor, poor Anora. (And Marcus, too!) This is such a wonderful story. Sweet and sexy and absolutely tragic. I found myself wondering at the end, "well, why can't a mage be king. Seriously? Or at least the royal...um, lover? Paramour? What's male for "mistress""
But before she could inspect further, he turned and sat on the bed. The firelight played off of his broad shoulders and the muscles of his back. Anora pushed herself to her knees, determined to press the advantage. In one movement, she pulled the nightshift over her head. In another, she slid out of her small clothes, so that by the time he had removed a boot, she was pressing her palms against his back. She heard his breath hitch when her slender fingers trailed over muscle and sinew. His body was all hard lines and firm angles, the body of a warrior, and despite his size he was all lean muscle.
She shifted closer enticed by the scent of clean male and autumn leaves, pressing her lips to the crook of his neck right below the gold chain encircling it. Her body slid against his and when her breasts brushed against his back, the boot he was holding fell to the floor with a thud.
“Now this,” she said, her lips curving in satisfaction, “is much better.”
He reached for his other boot with hands that weren’t entirely steady. “But now I am the one at an inequitable disadvantage as I cannot see you.”
It took her a moment to respond since she was busy tasting his shoulders and exploring the planes of his back with her hands. When she spoke her tone was unrepentantly tart. “You shall have to endure the depravation. I have waited far too long to relinquish my advantage.”
His eyes crinkled at the edges betraying his amusement. He jerked the other boot off. “Really?”
“Mmm, yes. Days, in fact.” Maker, it had seemed like so much longer. She reached around his sides until she could skim his abdomen with her palms, then lower. The other boot fell to the floor when she tugged the laces of his breaches.
He cleared his throat as she worked the laces loose. She could feel the muscles of his back tense up against her skin. “How many days?”
“I’m not quite sure. You took me by surprise.”
Upon his escape from Fort Drakon, Anora had prepared to face the Warden’s wrath. But instead of useless anger and threats, they’d cleared the air with brutal frankness that she’d greatly appreciated. Marcus had put her on notice that he was not to be trifled with again, laid out firmly what he was and was not willing to do, and declared his support for her claim. Once she realized that Marcus's mind was as sharp as his blade, she was done for.
“Your spectacles made everything worse,” she admitted.
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“No, don’t,” Anora breathed. She covered his fingers with hers to stop him. “Don’t take them off.”
His lips turned up at one corner. “I take it you like them then.”
Anora could feel her face heat, quite glad that he was not facing her. She returned her hand to the pressing task of unlacing his breaches. “Yes, very much.”
His surprised delight was laced in his voice. “I had no idea. I thought I looked rather foolish in them, actually.”
“Not at all. They’re quite…” Anora paused while she worked her hand under his loose breaches and smallclothes to the hard length underneath. His hips jerked under her fingers at her touch. “…attractive. Your spectacles suit you.”
She freed him from his pants, encircling the tip of him with her thumb, marveling at the feel of something so soft and yet so utterly male, gratified that Marcus’s large size extended to all parts of his anatomy.
It took him a few seconds to form the words. He made a sound halfway between a rueful laugh and a moan. “If I had known you liked my spectacles so much, I would have told them to rush the repair.”
He fell silent as Anora stroked him. The muscles of his neck tightened under her lips and his hands fisted in the sheets while his breathing grew heavy. But Anora knew she could do much, much better.
Anora withdrew her hands to the waist of the breaches tugging them down. “Now these you may remove.”
He lifted his hips enough that they could slide the garments down his backside and legs. While he was occupied with kicking them off to the side, Anora moved again, this time off the bed, kneeling between his legs. She took him into her mouth and watched pleasure scour into the remains of his calm stoicness from underneath her long lashes.
He swallowed hard and groaned, the sound encouraging her more. Eventually his brown eyes went hazy behind the glass of his spectacles and he buried his hands into her unbound hair. Marcus moaned again, this time her name, and she continued to taste him, reveling that this powerful, intelligent and attractive man was finally at her mercy.
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Overwhelmed by the delicious friction, Anora tipped her head back and choked out, “Oh, yes.”
His fingers dug into her skin while he moved. Marcus wasn’t gentle, but Anora didn’t want him to be. After two years of lonely nights in a cold, empty bed, her need was too great for that. She matched his rhythm with each rock of her hips, unbearable pleasure and anticipation building between her thighs.
Marcus groaned when she raked her nails through the hair that covered his chest and trailed to his belly. He pulled her down into a kiss that left her lips swollen and bruised. Her golden hair spilled around them, across both of their bodies and he plunged his other hand into her wavy tresses, his hand tightening into a possessive fist. His mouth moved from plundering her lips to tasting her breasts, the cool metal frames of his spectacles grazing her hot skin, sending more shockwaves of pleasure through her body until she couldn’t bear it anymore.
Anora pushed herself up, her palms flat on his scar covered chest and arched back. Her eyes fluttered shut as she drank in the pleasure, but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her taut body, in the tension of his chest under her hands and in the urgency of his rough caresses.
Soaring with pleasure, she claimed the man beneath her with each rock of her hips and every gasped breath. But opening her eyes was her undoing. When she saw the way he looked at her, how his raw passion was reflected in the spectacles he still wore, the heat in her belly uncoiled making her cry out and tremble until she collapsed against his chest.
She clung to him as he continued to thrust, his large frame quaking underneath her. His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest, kissing her again, until he broke away with a groan. Marcus’s hips jerked as he buried himself deep inside of her, spilling his seed.
His arms relaxed enough that she could breathe again. Her ear was to his chest and she could hear his racing heart calm and feel him catch his panting breath. Anora soaked in the feel of his body. The sensation of being held by a man was another experience she hadn’t had in too long.
Eventually she looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest and sighing, “I should move.”
He reached for one of the pillows, propping his head up so he could meet her gaze. There was something intense and dangerous in the soft way he was looking at her. His other arm tightened around her waist again. “Don’t.”
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He shifted slightly, grabbing a fistful of blankets and pulling them over their still entwined bodies. “Exactly. Let me hold you tonight,” he murmured.
“Marcus, one of us is going to have to be sensible about this.” And it was going to have to be him since she couldn’t seem to scrape the willpower to move away from the warmth of his body.
He frowned. “Our actions already bend to the sensibilities other people enough. This may not be possible in the future, so we should make the most of tonight. I will be sure to be gone long before your handmaiden returns in the morning, I promise.”
Her spine stiffened. “You will not return tomorrow night?”
Marcus ran a callused hand along the curve of her back. “I plan on returning as often as I can, for as long as you want me, but we’re fighting a blight while trying to hold this country together and prevent a civil war. We both have duties. I have more battles to fight that I may not live through while you…” His own pain was laid bare in his brown eyes, flashing against the glass of his spectacles. “…you know what you may have to do to hold this country together.”
Anora held his gaze, knowing that her own grief was plain on her face. They had never spoken of it directly. Nevertheless, that she might have to marry Alistair was something that they both understood. It was such an obvious solution, a way to quickly unify their increasingly divided nation, that even though her heart rebelled at the notion, her mind could not dismiss it.
Still the arguments welled up in her throat. That she did not need Maric’s bastard son to rule. That he looked too much like Cailan that it hurt. That it was unfair and unjust that the moment she finally found something for herself, she might have to give it up for the good of the nation. That if she were to chose a man to sit on the throne next to her, it would Marcus and not Alistair.
But Marcus was both a mage and a commoner, and that could never be. That she was falling in love with this man and that she was certain that he loved her back did not matter. If marrying Maric’s bastard would unite the country, if it would help her retain her throne and end the blight, she knew she would do it and that Marcus would help her.
“You’re right,” she said, finally, swallowing her grief, determined to make the best of the situation they’d been handed. It would do no good to dwell on a future that had not happened yet. “We should make the most of the time we have.”
Anora reached up and removed Marcus’s spectacles, placing them on the nightstand before turning back and kissing his face. His arms tightened around her and he kissed her back, sighing when she settled back against his chest, both savoring what they’d just found and what might have to be given up, talking long into the night about inconsequential things that mattered only to them before eventually being overtaken by sleep.
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Also, I wish there were spectacles, or a mod for them, in the game because UNF.
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