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Mariel Trevelyan stared up at the ceiling dazed in a specific tired bliss. Her skin, flushed and slick still felt like fire, the embers stirring with each gentle kiss her lover placed upon her abdomen.
She caught her breath, suddenly remembering an earlier conversation in this same office. “How long have you wanted to do that?”
Cullen laughed, his breath soft across her skin. “Long enough.” He crawled back over her now, tenderly brushing aside her hair where it lay bed-tossed over the black and red fur of his coat he insisted lay beneath her. “Maker’s breath, you’re so beautiful.”
Mariel smiled, reaching up to tease the damp loose curls across his brow. “As are you. You should keep your hair like this more.”
He groaned. “I’d never hear the end of it from Varric.”
Mariel wrapped her arms around him once more, holding him close. Her commander. Her lover. The word sent another thrill down her spine as surely as that first time his amber eyes had locked onto hers. What had he said earlier that night? He’d never expected to find a future here, nor her.
Mariel had never considered herself in love before. She kept to herself in the Circle, never daring to take a partner. It was difficult to connect with anyone, and she’d never dared to get close with a Templar. While she had deep friendships with many people, what she had with Cullen was different. She found herself wanting to keep his eyes on her, to see his scarred lip pull up into a smile, and to stay here in his arms for as long as she could. The world and all its troubles faded away, and even the sharp bite of the Mark on her hand grew dull here.
Cullen took a deep breath and Mariel’s stomach dropped as he pulled away, not looking at her.
Had she done something wrong? Was he going to send her away now? That old nagging doubt leapt up triumphantly in her mind, sounding very much like her mother.
Now that he’s had you, he’ll throw you out.
But before an apology could leave Mariel’s lips, his eyes returned to hers and his palm lay gentle upon her cheek. They weren’t angry, but hesitant and shy.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asked softly. “Here, in the Tower?”
He wasn’t casting her out. He was inviting her in. She pulled him into a kiss, pressing her relief to his lips. “Yes.”
Despite the night sky outside, Cullen’s grin was as bright as the sun. Mariel would do anything to keep him smiling like that.
His warmth left her as he pushed off the desk, sheepishly reaching to scratch the back of his neck as he stood amongst the wreckage of his office. His armor lay scattered in pieces across the floor amongst parchment reports that fluttered in the cool night breeze.
“There’s water upstairs,” he said, helping Mariel to her feet. “I’ll clean up here before joining you.”
“Tired already, Commander?”
His hands darted to her waist, catching her as she wobbled on her first steps.
She could feel Cullen’s wickedly delighted grin behind her. “Hardly.” He held her close, his next words a mere whisper into her ear. “I should warn you, templars are well trained and known for our…stamina.”
Mariel shivered, unable to suppress the moan that fell from her lips.
Then Cullen, as bold as she’d ever seen him, gave her a pat on her ass towards the stairs. “Go, I’ll be there soon.”