[ It’s well-matched, she thinks, pleased. They’re both carved out of hard-earned functional muscle, their bodies hard-lived and built to purpose. Her arm hooks over Gannicus’ shoulder again, fingers pressing against the jagged line of some old scar on his back, the mark of the arena having set its stamp on him. Given more time, another day, she’ll want to explore that map.
And Astrid makes another strangled noise as he rocks against her, her mouth against his, and winds up biting his lip; chiding, for remaining so tantalisingly out-of-reach. Damp from the baths and her own arousal, it’s easy for him to slick himself with her. It’s been a while; she hasn’t been with anyone since before Kirkwall, either. One could say she’s hungry for it, that loneliness knocking at her door. ]
Alright, [ Astrid’s voice is ragged, between kisses. ] You literal cocktease. Fuck me already.
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And Astrid makes another strangled noise as he rocks against her, her mouth against his, and winds up biting his lip; chiding, for remaining so tantalisingly out-of-reach. Damp from the baths and her own arousal, it’s easy for him to slick himself with her. It’s been a while; she hasn’t been with anyone since before Kirkwall, either. One could say she’s hungry for it, that loneliness knocking at her door. ]
Alright, [ Astrid’s voice is ragged, between kisses. ] You literal cocktease. Fuck me already.