It didn't matter. His son was here and growing stronger every day. It did seem like just yesterday he could only lift his head a few inches off the ground before tumbling back to the fuzzy blanket. Now he was staring around at this big, wide world in awe.
"How goes it?" Lana asked, rising unsteady to her feet.
"About as well as can be expected with found wood. We're lucky to have that saw mill so close."
"Not to mention the dozen or so favors they owe us for patching up their workers," she mused. Lana was less than kind with the owners after the last few men rolled in with injuries that should have been prevented. Many dismissed his wife due to her small stature and rounded features, but when she was angry -- truly, deeply scorned -- the Hero appeared. Even not knowing who she was, the owners all but ran out of the room like she'd set them on fire, swearing to fix their broken equipment.
"We'll have to think of what to do with the cradle once he's grown out of it," Lana mused to herself.
"It could serve some use here later," Cullen said, his hands reaching over towards his abandoned planer. A noise almost like a startled sob erupted from his wife and he froze. "Lana...?" he reached over to her, turning away from his work to find her eyes hooded.
She was glaring at nothing, though it could be through the fade itself. No magic erupted and she didn't cry about a darkspawn attack, but her lips lay flaccid in an impenetrable thought. "I know we haven't spoken of it, but...the idea of, um," Lana's speech vanished as she glanced over to watch their boy babbling to his hand and trying to chew off the fingers with no teeth.
"Lana?" he dropped everything, his hands skirting along her waist to try and catch her eye. "What is it?"
A sliver of tears dribbled in her eyes but she tried to shake them off, "Maybe it's not fair of me to make the choice, for you or for Gavin, but... Given the questionable nature of the potion and the threat of the taint, I don't think it's in anyone's best interest if I... I mean." She gulped, the tears falling faster.
Maker's sake, what did he do?
Cullen shook off any anger at himself for failing her as he scooped his wife tight into his arms. "Whatever's the matter you don't have to..." Oh Andraste. That was it. "Lana, no, I didn't mean for," Cullen swallowed, feeling a laugh at her conclusion in his throat. "I only thought to keep the cradle around for when others give birth here. The local women or if one of the servants should go into labor."
Her lush lips opened into a surprised, "Oh."
"Maker," he buried his face into her hair, "after everything that nearly happened." The fear still fresh in his mind, Cullen had to squeeze tighter to his living, breathing wife to stave off the tears of almost losing her. "I would never want you to risk yourself for another child. Not out of some duty to me, or for Gavin to have a playmate. I love you and I don't want to lose you ever again."
She shook off the tears, a bright smile dawning across her cheeks. Cullen bumped his forehead to hers, his greater height all but engulfing his wife to try and keep her safe. Keep her with him. "I love you too, both of you." A grump broke from their dog and Lana laughed, "And you as well, Honor. Forgive the exclusion."
"What brought this on?" Cullen asked, always trying to get the bottom of things.
His wife shrugged, "I'm not certain. I hadn't even weighed the idea until the cradle, but there are already infant clothes Gavin can't wear I need to find a place for. A new home. If I didn't intend to have another then there was no reason to keep them here."
Snuggling tighter into Cullen's arms she sighed, "Maybe it's all the letters from Ali about his kids getting along, then not getting along. Or your sister."
"What'd Mia do now?" he grumbled. She could be very stubborn on what was the proper way to raise a child.
"Nothing," Lana laughed, brushing up and down his stubble with her fingers, "merely the fact she is your sister. Your family that you love, that you look to for comfort."
"There's plenty of family right here. And who knows, with your cavalcade of friends, no doubt Gavin will inherit a constant parade of interesting aunts and uncles drifting in and out of his life."
Lana pursed her lips at the thought, Hawke having only left a few weeks prior and promising she'd be back before the kid was walking. "I don't think any of my friends are of the propagating type. He'll need friends his own age, stability and..."
Chuckling, Cullen placed a kiss to her forehead and murmured, "You're worrying too much."
"Mmm," she snuggled tighter to him, "of course I am. I'm a mother now. I fear it's made me nearly as bad as you."
"Nearly?"
Her beautiful, soulful eyes rolled open into his and she smiled, "It takes real work to worry as much as his father does." By every blessing of Andraste, she was gorgeous. Cullen tipped his head, his nose bumping her soft cheek as his lips cupped against hers. She closed her eyes, deepening the kiss with her hands pressing ever tighter against him. It'd been too long since they'd been able to kiss for longer than a brief second.
Too long.
Cullen broke away, trying to bury the flush of embarrassment from how quickly his body reacted to her touch. She could have died, and it was not his place to make any demands. Unaware of his fresh string of concerns, Lana lazily opened her eyes and roughed up his scruff.
"What about the grey warden potion?" he switched gears on her. Her caressing palm didn't stop but she pursed her lips in a controlled regret. "Do you think you're ready to try again?"
"Not quite," she said. "It needs more testing. I don't want to wait an entire year, if only for what I could lose, but..." Her eyes closed and she wrapped her arms tight around herself. "I'd really rather avoid the agony of yet another joining if I can."
"Oh Lana," he wrapped his arms over top of hers, rubbing into her shoulders as he stared deep into the top of her head. She refused to lift her eyes, the woman who suffered so much pain he couldn't get rid of now facing even worse on the horizon. "Tell me what I can do?"
Her lips lifted in a half smile, "You've been wonderful. With me and the baby. He's a handful and a half, and you... I'll find a solution, Cullen. I swear it."
Bundling her hands together, he kissed both. Those stained and callused fingers that were often burned or maimed in her experiments. The same ones that soothed feverish templars foreheads and his own erratic heartbeat. It seemed a cruel twist of the Maker that as Lana was emerging from her darkness he was struck down by a Wednesday. No doubt all the fear he'd buried inside at her near loss exploded once Cullen risked taking a breath. But she was there, holding him and their son in those thin fingers.
"I know you will, you can do anything you put yourself to," he whispered, cupping his hands to her cheeks and returning for another kiss.
"Ah, boss, er, um..."
Cullen and Lana both turned to find Sam standing awkwardly in the doorway. Her skin was as flush as a sunburn and she kept twisting her toe into the floor while attempting to yank her apron over her face. Despite having a baby, it seemed the fact the two of them enjoyed each others company was a relatively surprising fact for their workers.
"What is it, Sam?" Lana asked. She drifted back down to her toes, her lips slipping away from his, but she kept a close grip to his arm.
"I was wondering, we we're wondering if we could, um... If you'd be against us, that is..."
"Before we're all ash," Cullen groaned. His wife glanced over at him with her lips pursed. He was prepared to apologize when he felt a gentle pinch against his backside. It surprised him so much he failed to hide the reaction and nearly spun back to see if there was a crab on his workbench.
Sam watched a moment, her blue eyes widening beyond her face. Then she swallowed and pointed at Gavin who was trying to get that wood scrap again. "Can we play with the baby?"
Cullen began, "That isn't..."
"That's a wonderful idea," Lana interrupted.
"Really?" the girl's face beamed bright in joy.
He tried to shoot the question of if this was advisable to his wi
fe, but she was already scooping Gavin up into her arms. That baby's head he'd been getting good at balancing began to make a move to smack into his mother's. Cullen lashed a hand out and caught it before Lana had to suffer another bruise. "He gets that from you," she muttered before passing the giggling baby over to Sam.
The girl lit up like a lyrium vein from the wiggly worm trying to get back to the floor. "You're just the cutest widdle...um, Lord knight baby, I've ever seen."
Lana let Gavin grip to her finger as she stared down at him in love before she honed in on Sam. "Where will you be keeping him?"
"The dining room. We were all gonna get together and, ya know...Ralph brought in his old rattle. Made it out of a bladder with some seeds and then, uh..."
"Good," the mother nodded. "Keep him warm, make sure the socks stay on no matter how hard he kicks. No taking the baby out of the dining room under any circumstances without getting me first."
Sam nodded her head solemnly, Gavin trying to inch his way up her chest while he reached for her apron's strap. "Yes, Milady."
"If he makes a mess, the extra nappies are in the hamper on the bottom shelf of the closet," Lana continued to issue orders. "He's getting better at reaching for things but can't quite grab them. I hope. He may surprise you so be careful to keep anything small out of his reach just in case." The militant woman paused and a bright smile took over, "And have fun."
"Oh, I will, ma'am. We will, right baby?"
Gavin cooed a bit at the attention, the baby always lighting up when anyone looked at him. A few would nudge Cullen at how many women and girls kept flocking to his son. He swallowed every jibe down like bitter lemon juice, hoping to be able to put off those discussions far, far into the future. Not that he was much of a treasure trove when it came to courting advice.
Sam picked up Gavin's little hand and waved it up and down. "Say bye bye to your mum and da." The boy gurgled, spit dribbling down his chin along with some bubbles before Sam wrapped him tight and disappeared through the door.
To Cullen's surprise Honor went with, the dog trailing behind with the same look he felt. 'I'm watching you to make certain you do nothing to hurt that baby.'
"You trust them to look after our son?" he asked Lana after the door closed.
"We trust them to look after our charges. A baby should be easy compared to a raging 200 pound templar," she shrugged then turned to Cullen. "He'll be fine. It's only for a little while, and, Maker's breath, don't you want to savor the break?"
He'd twisted around to return to sanding, but at her comment he paused and glanced up. "It is nice to trust someone else. While I rather enjoy Hawke at times, she can be...well."
"Easily excitable and prone to forgetting there's a baby in her arms?" Lana laughed, her arms sliding in under his. He felt her face bury into the back of his padded shirt while the warmth of her body took over.
"Let's just say that I will be more calm if at her next visit Gavin is capable of walking and talking."
His wife chuckled, her cheek burrowing tighter, "Which is when Hawke will teach him how to use a sword."
"Of blighted course she will," Cullen let the tools clatter from his hands again, accepting that this crib wouldn't be built until the boy was walking. Turning in Lana's grasp, he wrapped his hands around her waist. She was always curvy, even her time trapped in the fade didn't fully drain away the squeezable soft figure that taunted his every waking moment. Motherhood shifted it around a bit, her soft stomach dangling lower after the expansion then expulsion. Her thighs, always stout and hearty, curled outward more at the top. Whenever Cullen caught sight of her naked body, slipping into or out of clothing or a bath, he felt an urge to grip onto the extra flesh. To pad his palms up and down it while she pressed her heaving chest against him.
He couldn't hide his body's betrayal while she curled so tight to him. It prodded into her lower belly, begging for any kind of release. He ached to touch her, but that was hardly new.
"Mmm," Lana purred into his chest, her head nuzzling against him, "been missing me?"
"You know I have," he whispered, his voice dipping lower to match the want in his blood.
She lifted her head enough he watched her little teeth press against her juicy bottom lip. "How many times have you thought about missing me?"
"Well, I haven't exactly kept count," he tried to play off the rising embarrassment with a joke. They had a newborn, she was walking through the darkness, there was still their half farm plus charges. He was far from being in a position to waste such time on frippery.
Lana darted her fingers down his chest, pressing the lambswool tighter to his skin. Her beaming brown eyes turned enigmatic as that brain was no doubt churning through a hundred thoughts. "You must have," she whispered, her hand sliding lower across his stomach, "some idea?" To finish, that cruel palm twisted around his erection growing harder with every breath.
"Sweet Maker," Cullen groaned, far too aware of how long it had been. He grew so busy there was a fear of a return of nocturnal emissions if he didn't take care of things soon. His sweet wife brushed her hot lips against his neck, that mischievous hand sliding his pants up and down his cock. "Why," he tried to shake away the buzzing in his ears, "why does that fascinate you so?"
Her fingers paused and she blinked a moment, staring up at him. "You, taking matters into your capable hands? Driving yourself to the brink so slowly you cry out for Andraste upon release? Yes, I can't imagine why that 'fascinates me' so."
"It..." Cullen gulped, trying to shake off the shame of how well his own wife knew about that.
"Tell me," Lana's nuzzling returned, though her fingers broke from his cock to rifle up and down his waist. "Do you ever imagine me seeking release on my own?"
Why did he feel like he was on trial and, no matter what he said, he'd be found guilty? "Sometimes," Cullen gasped, "And others I think of you with me, you finishing me, and...Maker's breath." He lost the ability to speak, the flush of embarrassment winning over. Sure, they had intimate moments, but this was even more private and not something to be discussed in his wood shop.
"Cullen?" Lana whispered his name in her dusky voice all but damning him to reveal every dirty thought he'd ever had in his lifetime. "What would you have of me?"
His eyes shot open and then crinkled down in confusion, "Excuse me?"
Lana shrugged her shoulder and then hopped up on her toes to kiss him. He expected it to be a distraction from whatever game she was playing, but as her tongue trailed along with his, the want inside of him rampaged through. Tasting his wife's sweetness, lapping up her lips and then diving back more for, his hands moved of their own accord. One curled around her breast, struggling to take in the greater size, while the other swooped to her backside. Wrapping the arm under her ass, Cullen tugged her even closer, his fingers swirling over her dress to tease out the nipple.
When it hardened below him, she shivered, breaking the haze over Cullen's eyes. "Maker's breath," Lana panted. She kept tight up on her toes, her breath wafting beside his ear while gasping for breath. "How do you want me? On my back? On my knees? On my hands and knees?"
"Lana..." the worry erupted up his spine, concern over her well being, of him pushing her too hard curbing his lust.
"I want you," she breathed into his ear before licking along the lobe. "Now, how do you want me?"
Every hunger roared to life, puncturing his waning attempts at chastity. Glancing once over his bench, Cullen scattered the tools to the side before scooping up his wife and placing her upon it. She laughed once, eyeing up how far her feet dangled off the floor upon the waist heigh counter, "I don't think this will quite work..."
Her words and fears of the height differential faded as he returned to kissing her, those lips nibbling upon his while his hands skirted apart her dress enough to dip down the front. She groaned in the back of her throat, no doubt matched by him as Cullen gently squeezed her full breasts. With each kneading, Lana began to pant harder, obliterating Cullen's control
as he tugged and warped the collar of her dress. He shouldn't destroy her few clothes, but...
Seeming to rise back from her island of bliss, Lana reached inside and undid a few secret clasps. Her dress fell open, letting both of her breasts tumble free. "Nursing mother," she chuckled. "It's a bit like stripper in how quickly you can get your top off when the need arises."
"Maker's breath, I love you," Cullen muttered, diving back to her witty tongue. She wasn't a coy one either, despite giving him the reins. Perched within easy reach, her legs wrapped around his waist tugging him tighter to the bench. He gave in until those wily fingers went right back to his belt and all the parts underneath.
Her wrist knocked against the edge of the table struggling to make the distance. Shaking her head at it, the pedantic rose back up, "Seriously, how is this supposed to work?" She gestured to how much higher she was to his straining cock. "Do you have a box to stand on?"
Andraste preserve him, but he loved that. She was so dead certain on helping him live out his fantasies she couldn't stop focusing on how to make it happen. "Lana," Cullen whispered in her ear. His voice was so dusky her perturbations died down and she shuddered. "This is where I want you."
"Okay...?"
He heard the question of "what are you doing?" as he tugged her forward towards the edge. Slowly his fingers skirted down her waist, trailing the thick fabric that protected her sweet skin from the cold. She began to rotate back and forth on her glorious ass, wanting him to get a move on. That drew a laugh to the old, stodgy templar, who slid his fingers up her legs. Calves, once so strong to carry her across Ferelden, they now required his healing massage often. Her thighs, soft to the gentle touch, but rock hard when she flexed them. The muscle hid deep below her cushioning. His thumbs circled around the top of her thighs, following the crease that led down to the part he dreamed of while touching himself.
Love's Blush Page 105