Doom Upon All The World

Chapter 53: Magic Included

It started out as a tingling in his legs and his gut. A tiny stroke of a steel against flint, igniting the spark in the most minuscule way. It was there nonetheless. He leans over the table again, pointing out the little things he likes about Nicolynn's drawing. She smiles and giggles as he does this and Mythalus watches, urging his father to do his next. Solas merely nods but the worry for Maeve's scheming does not leave his mind, or his stomach. He feels it again, but this time it is deeper. It is more. It is almost as if... He stops thinking about it. Acknowledging it will only make it more real. He tries to put it out of his mind as he examines Mythalus' drawing. The tingling moves between his legs and he shifts uncomfortably. He grins but it is quickly broken by the lusty feeling in his gut and he presses his lips together in a thin line to keep the strangled groan from escaping him. He closes his eyes briefly and takes a breath, knowing exactly what it is she is up to. He lifts his head and smiles his widest at Mythalus and ruffles his dark curls. He stands straight and kisses Nicolynn's hair. "I'll be back in a moment. Watch your brother." He tells her softly and in a low, strained voice. She nods and he rushes off to Maeve's old quarters. 

He hardly makes it there in good sorts. Her actions entice him all the more, the closer he gets. He knows very well what she is doing up there. He feels everything she feels. Pain, hunger, sadness,... pleasure. Her pleasure is his and his is hers. There is no shame in it. What she is doing is meant to get his attention. She has it. In full force. 

He reaches the top of the stairs and just observes her. His eyes skim her frail body. This month since Mythalus has woken they have been close but not really intimate like they were before. He finds himself easily indisposed at the sight of her. Her kisses cannot sate his palate. He needs this. She needs this. He can feel the need, the hot blaze of agonizing necessity to have one another basking in the heat of themselves. She lies against the bed, sideways, her head all the way back, off the pillows. Her trousers are on the floor and her tunic is unbuttoned to reveal more of her chest than he has seen in some four months. She arks off the bed and pushes her hand lower. Her small clothes are pushed to the side and her fingers tease at her most sensitive place. Solas can only watch. His eyes roam over the surface of her. Her supple breasts in the air, her fine sex exposed and toyed with, her fever rising with need. 

She opens her desire filled eyes and looks to him. A small glance, a lusty glance. It beckons him come near. Her eyes call to him, touch her, feel her, take her. "Well, Dread Wolf? Are you just going to stand there?" She inquires with a suggestively curious and challenging tone. Her smirk is wry and it corks in the corners as she sees the effect her actions are having on him. Her fingers continue their circling, their gentle stroking and Maeve lets out a quiet, breathless moan. She bites down on her lip and her ears open up as she hears Solas' rapport of her moan. His voice is husky and needy as he frees the strained noise. Within an instant, her eyes close as she blinks, and when she opens them, he is astride her. His hand covers her own and she mewls at the pressure he places over her fingers. 

He leans over her and their breaths mingle. They are so close and yet Maeve needs him closer. She whimpers as his fingertips brush her core. He closes his eyes and hushes her with a wicked grin. "Hush, Vhenan." He whispers, moving his nose over the tip of her ear. She squirms underneath him. His mouth moves, without actually kissing her, over her pale, heated skin. "You smell ravishing." He mutters coolly in her ear and she pushes up into him, needing him nearer. "Now, Da'ean. How many times must I tell you about these things? This affects us both. What would the children have thought?" He grins down at her as she tries to wiggle her fingers. They successfully move over her center and she gives a low heated moan. Solas groans right along with her and attaches himself to her neck, kissing, and sucking, and nipping at her flesh as he pleases. 

"Vhenan," He warns but she can hear the breaking in his tone. He needs and wants this just as bad as she does. "We must be careful, Solas. Lest we end up in the same situation as Cassandra and Cullen." She coos softly in his ear. This stiffens him. Not in the sexual sense, but physically. He stops what he is doing and sits up, looking down at her curiously, as if trying to determine what she means. "Pregnant?" Solas tries to bite back his fear. If she were... Gods... The look in his eyes gives away his worries. Maeve lifts his hand from around her side and peppers it with feather light kisses. "I am not, Solas. You needn't worry. It has been a long four months since we last found intimacy a commonality between us. If I were, you would be able to tell by now. I merely mean to tell you that perhaps we should not go about this in the... traditional fashion." She surmises and tilts her head to the side, trailing her free hand up his arm. He grins at this and leans down, planting a long, heavy kiss on her thin, red lips. She pushes into it, reveling in the feel of his mouth on hers. The warmth of the kiss, the wetness, the tension makes it all the better and she wiggles beneath him, urging him to move his hand still in her lower region.