He spread his hands, either in an apologizing, or in an inviting gesture.

- Do not tell me that a person who instills such faith in others has stopped believing in himself.

The suspicious brilliance of the blue eyes devotedly looking at him became even brighter. Leliana smiled awkwardly, slid forward, and with something in between between a chuckle and a sob, she buried herself in the Guardian's chest.

Time slowed down its flow or stopped at all. The guard carefully cradled the girl pressed against her chest, while on his simple linen shirt there was a wet, hot spot. He firmly hugged the fragile, quivering figure, buried his nose in red hair and inhaling their sweet floral scent. He spoke good, soothing and meaningless nonsense, and together they laughed at his words. He gently squeezed her hand in his hand, and the thin, delicate fingers of the lute responded with a reciprocal grip. And when the blue eyes under the red eyebrows rose again to meet his gaze, they shone more clearly and purer than ever.

Her lips were as soft, hot and supple as he remembered them. Her skin, even ten years later, was still tender. Its smell - sweet-tart, sharply teasing nostrils - has drunk more strongly, than just drunk wine.

Having wrapped her arms around the guard's neck, Leliana slowly sank to her back, dragging him along with her. Hero Fareldena did not think to resist - after spending a second to slip out of his shirt and throw her aside, he sank down on the spreading skin after Leliana and began to work on her wardrobe.

- Be careful, this is Orley! - with namigrannym indignation burst out girl when the Guardian so zealously jerked the edge of her leather jacket, that a few buttons scattered on the sides and jumped on the stone floor.

- OU? - The Guardian responded with exaggerated respect. “So this is ...” he quickly brushed his lips with a strip of skin that opened just to the right and above the navel with his lips, “Orley?” - The right hand ran up the zipper of the camisole, quickly unbuttoning the buttons, while the fingers of the left lay on the silky skin. “A country of endless fields,” fingers ran across a flat, flat stomach, “and beautiful valleys?”

The index finger circled the dimple of the navel. Leliana exhaled quietly and sharply — whether from tickling or excitement.

“But where,” the Guardian put two fingers just above the girl's navel, “should we go from Orlais?” - Fingers ran up, depicting a coarse human figure. - In Newarra? - Fingers touched the contour of the right breast, which immediately covered the entire palm. Leliana sighed tremblingly. “Or,” the touch broke off as quickly as it began, “move further to the West, to the solar Antivo?” - The guardian captured a slow kiss between the rounded breasts. “Or to overcome the fierce winds of Rialto Bay,” a light blow touched the tense nipple of the left breast to immediately give way to another gentle touch, “and discover Rivein for yourself?”

The Guardian's hands unexpectedly left her chest, but before Leliana had time to express displeasure, she felt the buckle of her lap belt click. Clever fingers in one motion pulled off comfortable road pants and everything that was under them, leaving the girl in her pristine beauty.

“Or,” the Guardian’s lips paved a hurried path of kisses from the graceful neck to the navel, “we descend lower,” the lips touched the inner side of the thigh at its very foundation, and step into the abandoned dwarf teigi?

Leliana convulsively squeezed the Guardian's head with her hips. A hoarse groan made it clear that the Hand of the Most Holy fully favored the Deep Trails.

The Guardian language quickly showed that it is good not only for geographical excursions. Alternating the fleeting touches with the lingering strokes, changing the pressure and pressure, he played on the beautiful female body as an instrument. Gentle, but relentless affection formed in powerful chords, and short female moans, fused with them together, sounded counterpoint, emphasizing the beauty of a complex melody. Being a true minstrel, Leliana could not fail to appreciate the beauty of the piece, even if this time her pleasure was far from artistic. But as a minstrel, she could agree with her lover in another: a real work cannot consist of one overture.

Feeling that the girl, inflamed by passion, would not last much longer, the Guardian gently freed himself from the tight grip of the elastic hips and slid forward. Leliana's indignant exclamation, dissatisfied with the cessation of caresses, immediately fell silent, interrupted by a new kiss, and the Guardian burst into a hot, pulsating depth in one swift movement.

Leliana responded with a long groan and wrapped her arms around the Guard. Hard, squatted nipples pressed into the powerful male breasts. The man almost caught his breath. Leliana’s frailty was deceptive — it was easy to forget behind the charming femininity that these hands were used to stretching a combat bow.

Tearing away from the girlish lips, Hero of Ferelden began to cover the chiseled neck with kisses. While the men's lips were caressing the delicate, almost transparent skin, the women's lips found his ear, and the next moment even teeth slightly but sensitively bit the lobe.

From surprise, the Guardian rushed forward. The ear was not injured — Leliana immediately released it from her mouth — but a deeper penetration wrenched an inarticulate, but undoubtedly contented, guttural sound from her chest. Having understood what was required of him, the Guardian increased the amplitude of his movements. In order not to interfere with her lover, the girl clasped his waist with both feet, and the strong muscles that threw the male body back and forth accelerated the pace. Leliana's moans gave way to frequent, shallow breathing — a sure sign that she had nothing left to peak. The guard, however, he himself felt how steadily increasing tension was preparing to splash out. Pull was useless.

He sped to the limit, literally pressing his mistress into bear fur. The breaths and exhalations of Leliana became so frequent that they merged into one whistling sound - and then abruptly interrupted. The girl tightened her whole body, silently grabbing air with her lips, her fingernails rubbed deep scratches on the back of the Guardian. Enclosed in double tight embraces, feeling Lelianna clinging to him with every cell of her body, the Guardian twitched again - and with exhausted satisfaction sank onto the girl's breast just at that moment when the girl relaxed and with a tremulous exhalation let out air from the lungs.

The powerlessness lasted only a few seconds - although under the beat of a frantically shrinking heart and blood repeating to it, like a battering ram somewhere in the temples, these seconds seemed almost an eternity. Then the Guardian slid aside so as not to put pressure on Leliana with his weight, and rolled onto his back.

Two breathed until the crackling of the logs again became the loudest sound in the room. The guard felt the gracious, lazy warmth spreading through his body. The fire was warming, but not burning, Leliana's hair tickled his shoulder, and even the silence, broken only by the sound of a burning flame, as if it had the same weight as it had been on moonless nights in a quick-set camp. With the proper effort of imagination, one could even believe ...

- This scar was not there before.

Leliana's voice broke the fleeting illusion, and only the old habit of holding herself in her hands allowed the Guardian to not change her face.He turned his head and squinted to the left. Leliana, raising herself up on her elbow, carefully examined his muscular, lean torso. The index finger, with a light touch, traced a wide scar that stretched under the very ribs.

- And this ...

Ring finger lay on the trail of stabbed wounds.

- And ...

“I'm afraid you don't have enough fingers,” he broke off with a smile ... Read more →