Tent Party Fill: Dusters and Crows

[miri1984]

Title: Dusters and Crows
Words: 1600
Rating: M for sex!
Characters: Zevran, Commander Sigrun from OWAM & Fractures
Summary: Zevran is not quite as smooth as he thought he was.

Zevran considered himself an artist when it came to seducing women. True, few would call him subtle, but a gentle wearing away of resistance was just as well achieved by being direct about one's desires as by being circumspect. He liked his conquests to be well aware of his intentions. So he had made no secret of his attraction to Sigrun, on any of his visits. Her direct blue stare and knowing smile, the way she responded to his flirting, all made him think he was close to succeeding and he'd come to the Vigil with the King and Queen this time believing this visit would probably be the culmination of his seduction.

 

It was somewhat of a surprise, however, to come back to his guest quarters at the Vigil on the first night they arrived to find the Commander of the Grey, former member of the Legion of the Dead, naked on his bed, lying on her stomach, flipping through a book.

 

She looked up and grinned as he entered, her chin propped in one hand and a foot kicking at his pillow. She seemed taken aback by his expression, however. "What?" she said. "I'm dead remember? Seems a shame to waste time once we both know what we want." The harshness of her words were belied by the twinkle in her blue eyes and he laughed helplessly.

 

"Truly, you are an interesting woman," he said, letting his eyes wander over her nakedness, taking in curves and hard muscle and inked skin...

 

"Do the legion insist on tattoos there or was that something you decided yourself?" he asked as he pushed the door shut behind him.

 

She laughed and bounced - bounced off the bed, then sidled closer to him, her movements sinuous and lithe. "That was a present from a... friend back in dust town. He was... " her eyes clouded a little. "He was a lot of fun. Almost as much fun as I think you're going to be." She swept her eyes up and down his body, quite lasciviously he noted. A very different persona from the one she displayed in front of her troops. "Come on," she said. "I'm naked here, a bit of turnabout would make things so much more interesting!"

 

Zevran considered her for a few seconds, then shrugged and pulled his shirt over his head. She whistled. "Well, you were asking me about tattoos..."

 

"The crows did insist on that one," Zevran said as she eagerly ran her fingers over the black swirls on his chest. She reached around and slid hands under his breeches, giving an appreciative hum as she squeezed his buttocks, then leant in and inhaled his scent deeply. Zevran was a short man - it was interesting, and intriguing, to be with a woman who was a head shorter than he, but the obvious delight she took in smelling him was an oddity. "Why are you inhaling me?"

 

"You smell good," she said, eyes closed, mouth curved in a smile. Her hands roamed back up his back, finding sensitive spots that made him catch his breath. "And you feel good." A small tongue darted out from between full, dark lips and lapped at his nipple. "Oh, and you taste good. Elves taste different to dwarves." 

 

This was all very well and to be honest, extremely lovely, but Zevran was unused to not being in complete control of these kinds of situations. He caught her hands in his and brought them to his lips. She grinned up at him as he let his own tongue dart out and taste her fingertips. "Mmm," he said, tasting paper and ink and the slight tang of sweat. "You taste of words."  He drew one of her fingers into his mouth and sucked at it, watching her eyes sparkle with pleasure and anticipation. He stretched her arm away from her body and made his way up with his lips until he reached the crease of her elbow, when she jerked and pulled herself away, giggling.

 

"Oh, that tickles," she said, then grabbed him by the arm and unceremoniously yanked him towards the bed. She was small, but almost certainly stronger than he - dwarven density of muscle, he guessed, because that was the only explanation for why he ended up flat on his back on the bed, pinned between her thighs.

 

"Tch, tch," he said, trying to regain some of his dignity. "Commander you are overly rough. You could have hurt me.."

 

"Oh yeah?" she said, one eyebrow raised, then dropped her head and bit him, hard on the shoulder. He yelped. "Trust me, pointy ears, if I wanted to hurt you I would have. Now... " she busied herself with his breeches. 

 

He really, truly should be trying harder to take control of this situation, but he was completely out of his depth, and to be honest, intrigued. The dwarven Commander was like an overgrown puppy - completely unpredictable and sometimes slightly ferocious, curious and delighted all at once. His breeches were removed and suddenly deft fingers were stroking him - deft, experienced fingers. His hips bucked, but she kept him still with a firm hand on his hip before replacing fingers with mouth, and if her fingers were skilled it was nothing... oh, nothing compared to her tongue.

 

"Creatore santo..." he fought to keep his voice level as she took him deeper, hands reaching around to finger him at the same time. "Oh..." he gasped, reaching down to tangle his fingers in her hair as she moved. He raised his head to look down caught her eyes, watching him.

 

No, he thought. This is not how it was supposed to go...

 

He moved suddenly, pulling her up and throwing her down onto the bed, trapping her beneath him while she wriggled and laughed. "Cattivo," he said. "Incredibly so. Where did you learn such cheekiness, eh? Not among the legion I'm certain." He dipped his head to suckle at her breasts and was happy to hear a groan as he switched from one to the other. She was struggling a little, every now and then, but his weight was enough for now to keep her in place. When he heard her breath start to come in pants he moved lower, finally nestling between her thighs and drawing his tongue in a long, languid lick over her folds. "Mmmm," he said. "I must say that dwarves also taste good." She didn't respond, merely let out another throaty growl and pulled his head back down. He smiled into her and continued, taking his cues from her cries until she clenched her thighs around his head and shouted, then fell back against the bed, still gasping. 

 

Grinning, he climbed back up. "Ancestors," she said, "I needed that." Her arms were flung above her head and she was so completely relaxed that he couldn't help but grin. 

 

"I am happy to serve, Commander," he said, lazily trailing a circle on her flat stomach with one finger. She looked down at the finger, then back up at his face.

 

"But we're not finished yet," she said, and sat up suddenly. Maker, the energy of the woman. He was still very much aroused, and she wasted no time but impaled herself on his length, throwing back her head and letting out a whoop that could probably have been heard throughout the keep. 

 

He couldn't help it. He laughed with her, then gripped her hips as she started to move above him. The light was behind her so she was all dark ink and pale skin and indistinct features as he drove upwards. There was no finesse, she rode him like a horse, fast and hard, and he let her take the lead, enjoying the feeling of being a vehicle for her pleasure.

 

When she tightened around him, shouting again, he came as well, and she flopped forward onto his chest, panting and boneless.

 

"That was fun," she said after a moment, her black hair tickling his chin as he stroked her back.

 

"Fun indeed," he replied. "Although perhaps next time we can take a little more time to... explore....?"

 

She lifted her head and fixed him with her blue stare. "Next time?" she said. 

 

He blinked, shocked at the lance of hurt that shot through his chest at her words. "Should you care to repeat the performance, that is," he said, a little stiffly.

 

Her mouth twisted in amusement, and she rolled off him and started to gather her clothing. He watched, frowning, as she dressed, then turned and faced him. "Don't get me wrong here, Zevran. It was a lot of fun. But I'm a busy woman, don't you know? Commander of the Grey and all."

 

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. "True," he said.

 

She grinned and leant forward, tweaking his nose, then leaning over him and brushing the tip of one ear with her lips. "Gotcha," she whispered, then spun around and left him, fuming, on the bed.

 

Naked.