"'Darn your socks?'" he repeated with a scoff.
"I'm getting better at it. All right, so the yarn doesn't match and my needles are too thick but it's better than holes through the boots and... Why are you pulling that face?"
He blinked at her question, and the essence of panic contorted his cheeks. Digging into the nape of his neck with a ferocity, Cullen leaned back to stare up at the ceiling as if the answer was written there. "I probably should have said something earlier, but I didn't know if you'd...or there was..." The blush ramped up to a full flush over his features to match the increase in placeholder words, "Ah, I mean, surprises are...some like them but others are not as, but then when we were already, and you didn't say anything."
"What..." Lana tried to get his attention if only so he'd start making sense, "what are you talking about?"
"A moment, please," he skittered so fast out of his chair it tipped backwards, smacking into the floor. Cullen didn't even slow down to try and rescue the priceless relic as he vanished into the office leaving Lana alone and beyond confused. When he returned there was a canvas bag in his hands, a giant smile across his face, and a hundred questions expanding to a thousand.
Without bothering to lift up the chair, Cullen stood before her and stuck out the bag. She accepted it with the question on her face. Rather than look inside, Lana kept a watch on Cullen partially out of fear that something was very wrong and he could have a sudden relapse. Shrugging his shoulders, and then banging his empty hands together, Cullen shouted, "Happy Birthday!"
"Ha...what?" Lana blinked, shaking her head to try and find sense.
"I, with all our traveling and so much work taking up my attention, there wasn't much time to..." his nervous smile slid off at the perplexed look scrawled across Lana's face. Slowly, his hands stopped smacking into each other until they hung suspended in the pervading silence.
"It's not my birthday, not by a long shot," she spoke slowly, scared that her words might set something off. "I was born in the spring."
Cullen swallowed, his eyes blinking, when he smacked his forehead, "The spring? I blighted knew that too."
"Why did you think it was my birthday?" Lana laughed, not wanting to make him feel bad but Maker he looked so adorable stewing over the fact.
"Of all the..." Cullen stopped cursing under his breath before he sighed from the bottom of his lungs, "It doesn't matter. I was...I decided to make a fool out of myself, it seems."
Lana pursed her lips, her fingers digging into the canvas, "Let me guess, it was Leliana."
"Yes," he started, blinking rapidly from her driving right to the truth. "Is she not aware of when your birthday is?"
"No, she knows," Lana tossed her head back and groaned, "She's done this before. Not the birthday lie but other facts about me to try and, you know..."
"Test me," Cullen groaned. He glanced down at the toppled chair as if wishing to fall into it, but waved a hand and instead placed his weight onto his fists digging into the table. "And I failed spectacularly."
"I don't know about that," Lana shrugged, "I'm not certain if there is a way to win."
"Why would she do that? Who else has she done it to?" The first question was whined to the Maker and anyone else listening, but the second he glared through Lana, no doubt assuming he knew the answer.
"The why is because she's appointed herself my big sister and, in trying to look out for me, she uses a lot of the Game. Confuses the hell out of the Fereldens at times."
"You do not say," Cullen deadpanned, his head plummeting.
"And no, the who isn't who you think. She didn't start playing that Game until long after we...after the blight. Basically, anyone I admitted to having an interest in Leliana would find some way to challenge and see if they were up to the task."
"Did any pass?" he asked.
"I don't know, I never lasted more than a few weeks with anyone else. It, uh, I'm not very good at getting into relationships it seems," Lana tried to play it off but it stung her still. What men didn't cower at the Hero of Ferelden deigning them with attention, the rest tried to one up her, proving that she didn't really deserve them. It was a constant headache and after the sixth or seventh year she decided she'd rather die alone anyway. Filling Vigil's Keep with cats didn't seem like it'd be too difficult.
Cullen's fingers traced along her cheek and she turned up to his smile, "I'd say those other men were idiots but I'm rather grateful for their stupidity."
"You, uh," Lana couldn't tamper down the blush rising against her cheeks. Swallowing to bide for time, she cupped her fingers around his. "I'm sorry for Leliana being, well, Leliana. I'll have a talk with her and explain that she can call off her dogs."
"Was that why you didn't want her to know about us?"
"That," Lana muttered under the breath, "and her digging up every relationship you ever had to grill the poor women."
"What?" Cullen started, his hand falling off her cheek in shock.
Lana shrugged, "There's a reason she was so successful as the Inquisition's spymaster. And, uh, if she maybe mentions the name of someone from your past just smile and nod as if you don't remember it. It's easiest that way."
"There aren't even any..." Cullen paused, his eyes darting through the past, "well, the one but it was from decades ago, surely..." He turned the question to Lana who gritted her teeth and nodded. "Maker's breath, I feel the fool for falling for it."
"Leliana's a bit of a handful at the best of times," Lana tried to cheer him up, "Pretty sure she knows every stupid thing I've done in my life."
"I was twisted up in knots, doing my damnedest to procure an acceptable gift for you and all the time it didn't matter," He paced back and forth before the table, knocking the chair further away with his boot. "And the way you remained silent on the fact I feared that-that either you were upset and hiding it or were expecting some grand surprise."
"Andraste, I'm sorry. It probably didn't help that I was doing a lot of browsing for browsing's sake either."
He paused in his ranting and glanced towards her, "No, and you have nothing to apologize for. I did it to myself, because..."
Lana staggered up to her feet so she could catch his hand. With the warmth of his skin pressed against hers she smiled, "Because you wanted to make me happy. Which is adorable and sweet." His agitated pacing stopped and rueful eyes turned to her. Tugging him closer, Lana leaned far across the bones of their meal to pluck a sweet kiss from him. Cullen fought her at first, but as she roughed her fingers across his stubble he gave in, his own hands wrapping around her shoulders.
"So..." Lana drug out the vowel as Cullen steadied himself up on his feet. "Can I open my gift or should I save it until spring?"
"Maker, no! Don't save it," he cried out before dampening down to a calm. Lana eyed up the bag now with greater wary. What did he get her? She didn't hear any mewls coming from inside but this was Val Royeaux, anything was possible. "Go ahead and open it. There's not much point in saving it," Cullen drifted back to a steady calm, his arms crossing and his head tipping down.
Shrugging, Lana broke open the knots along the top of the bag and carefully reached in to grab up a small glass bottle. "You got me...foam?" she asked lifting an eyebrow at him.
"There's more inside," Cullen said, pointing a finger at the bag.
Placing the jar of lumpy, white, potentially frosting on the table, Lana yanked the bag open wider and stuck her head inside. "Nope," her voice was muffled as she rifled around inside it, "there's nothing else in here."
"What? That cannot be," Cullen started, holding a hand out. With a shrug she passed him the bag so he could find the same. It was completely cleaned out save the glass jar with a tight lid keeping everything held in. Scooping it up, Lana walked around the table to join the man who kept running his fingers along the lining of the bag and then dumping it upside down as if that would make something appear. "I swear to the Maker, there was something else."
Lana slid beside him to lift the jar
near his face, "Something to go along with this?"
"It was delivered, I saw it before and..." his eyes narrowed and he turned to the dog sleeping on the divan. Normally, Honor would lift her head from any attention but now she feigned sleep like a professional actor. "Did you get into this bag and eat it?" Cullen thundered to his mabari, who -- if she was a person -- would be whistling nonchalantly and banging her hands together.
"By the void, you are in so much trouble for..." he began to move away when Lana caught his arm. The touch was barely a glance but Cullen froze and his anger dissipated at the amusement bubbling in her eyes. "It was a pie, an apple pie. Seemed a strange time of year to have one available, but I thought you might like it."
"I imagine Honor really liked it," Lana struggled to swallow the laugh in her words.
At her name, Honor woofed once but that earned a fresh glare from her master. Sighing that she got no respect for taking on that dangerous pie all by herself, the mabari plopped her head down onto the couch cushions she also wasn't supposed to be on. Cullen dropped the bag to push his cheeks up towards his eyes.
"Maker, a pie eaten by my dog meant for a birthday that actually occurs months later. I am ordained by Andraste herself to fail at every step of this."
His self deprecation only made Lana want to hug him more but he had his hands locked tight against his face as if that would somehow cure him of all of this. "Well," Lana said inching even closer to him. Cullen pulled down his hands to look upon her. "At least we have this," she held up the jar and popped the lid off with a quick turn of her fingers. "What is it again?"
"Whipped cream, fresh whipped cream for the pie resting in Honor's guts."
Chuckling at his grumbling growing more good natured with each return, Lana dipped a finger into the jar and dropped a dollop of the cream onto her tongue. Fresh as morning's dew and richer than the tapestries of the Grand Cathedral, Lana's tongue lit up along with her eyes as she licked off her finger. "This is wonderful all on its own."
"Thank the Maker for small miracles," Cullen grumbled.
Unable to take his grumpy turn, Lana dipped her finger back into the jar and drew forth a greater glob of whipped cream. Less than carefully she extended it towards Cullen who took her finger in his mouth, his tongue lightly trailing across her joint before she pulled it out.
"Not bad," he smiled, smacking his lips, "it's been too long since I've had real, farm fresh cream and..." His eyes darted down to her chest right above her dress' neckline, where her over exuberant dollop of whipped cream lost a small section. Before she could move her fingers to swipe it away Cullen bent over and lapped it off.
When he stood away, he swallowed, about to remark more upon the cream when he noticed Lana's slack mouth. "Oh, was that...should I not have...?"
Inching her finger deeper into the jar, she dropped a better dollop onto her collar bone upon the birthmark and smiled wickedly, "Do it again."
A hungry look rose in Cullen's eye and he dove for her birthmark. Lana gripped tight to the jar of whipped cream as she wrapped her arms around his back to steady herself. Throwing her head back, she gave him all the access he needed. After licking up half of the cream, Cullen pressed a whisper soft kiss against her skin, then another. His hands cupped around her waist, pinning her in place as he kissed towards the last of the cream, dotting her skin in his lips along the way.
"Mmm, I may have been wrong before. It's better than I thought," Cullen whispered as he gently lifted his head away from hers so as not to hit her chin. When his hungry, almost impish eyes met hers, all those silly fears inside of her washed free. He began to slide back, as if the game was done, but Lana gripped onto his arm and held him close to her. Uncertain, but happy to keep going, Cullen remained near her as she slid next to the table to place the jar down.
Slowly, Lana undid the first few buttons on her dress. She glanced up at Cullen from the edge of her brow and watched his entire face light up in an eagerness she wished could be framed. Scooping up a few plops of cream, Lana dropped them right where her giving cleavage pressed at the top to create the soft t. A moan rattled in Cullen's throat, but he seemed locked in place, either uncertain if this was right or so excited he couldn't move.
Grabbing onto his hair with her cream coated fingers, Lana pulled him down for a kiss, her tongue already slipping in with his. Awakened from his stupor, Cullen matched with her, his hands gripping onto her shoulders and sliding ever further down until the fingers curled at the sides of her breasts. Maker, she wanted to grab both as before and place them upon her chest and between her thighs. Before she could make good on that idea, Cullen's lips broke away from her. He nearly dropped to a knee to come face to face with her ample cleavage. With the softest of touches, his lips graced across the top of her canyon. The cream already began to melt from her body heat, some of it sliding deeper in between, but that was no match to the man licking his way across her skin.
"Sweet Andraste," Lana gasped as his chin dug into her dress, dragging it lower to give him access. Instantly, she undid more of the buttons all the way down to reveal her puckered stomach and the start of her lime green smalls. Freed from its straining tackle, the dress hung against her breasts, uncovering the edge of her nipples on both sides. Cullen's kissing paused. He didn't rise from his lean, but he did look up at Lana waiting for her to give the go ahead.
She'd felt silly before, asking for him to touch this or that while keeping so much off limits. Now, she dipped into the cream, pushed off both sides of her dress and coated her hard nipples in it. The grin upon Cullen's face raced to her own, and she couldn't stop fluffing his hair as he kissed his way down her cleavage and towards the first temptation. When his lips sucked off the cream and pressed against her nipple, Lana threw her hands back against the table, rattling their dishes.
His eyes darted up a moment, making certain the table wasn't about to fall apart, before he returned to driving awake every inch of her body. When his teeth grazed across her nipple, she was pretty sure even her hair became aroused. Having finished with one, Cullen switched to the other, but his fingers kept threading over the licked clean nipple. The cool air in the apartment knocked against her wet skin, making more of her wet as she tried to claw against the woodgrain of the table. Not one to shirk his duty, Cullen took his time lapping up every freckle upon her breasts, those strong hands gently kneading them until Lana tipped her head back and groaned.
"May I?" he asked, pointing at the few remaining buttons.
Nodding while her mind buzzed in such a high pleasure stratosphere, he slowly undid each one, pausing to look up to see if she was still okay with it. She wanted to grab the last of the dress and yank it apart, but her legs began to tremble in an unexpected anticipation. It was silly, but she felt almost as if this was her first time with him, with anyone. As the last of the buttons fell away, Cullen rose and his lips fell into hers. While he caressed her cheek, his tongue wrapping around hers, Lana shook off her dress, exposing nearly all of herself to him. Every scar, every gaunt rib and ropy muscle. Her ashen and dull skin. She tried to bite down on the terror knotting at the back of her brain, but it was almost drowning out her panting arousal.
Rising away from kissing her, Cullen's eyes canvassed her body, all the divots, all the bumps and bruises. A satisfied smile rolled up his cheeks and with his lips pressed beside hers he whispered, "You are, Maker, beyond beautiful."
"I want you," Lana's mouth slipped the antagonizing thought free before the fear had time to catch up.
He blinked at that, his mouth working a few times before he could stutter out in a voice driven deep into his chest by lust, "Are you...you're certain?"
Was she? Her hands drifted down his stomach towards that bulge straining at attention, thick as she remembered, that waited for attention from behind only the thin fabric of his trousers. "Yes," Lana smiled, "all of you. So badly, I..."
"Should we move to the bedroom?" he pointed in the direction, but Lana hooked her arms around hi
s shoulders and pulled him to her.
Shaking her head, afraid she'd lose her nerve if they moved, she breathed in his ear, "No, here. Now."
She expected him to refuse for the table's sake or out of a fear of some Mother or Sister overhearing, but Cullen smiled wider. Curling his hands under her ass, he heaved her up onto the table. The dishes rattled from her addition, and then slid back across the surface clanking together as she got her bearings. Wearing the same ecstatic grin, Cullen yanked his shirt off over his head. Lana had to bite down a yip in her throat as she watched his tempting pale skin flex while he undid his belt. Maker, should forearms and biceps flex so much when one tugged on a single strip of leather?
Who blighted cares?!
Even with his attention on trying to free himself of the trousers, Lana wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him to her for a kiss. Cullen stumbled for a moment, his lips puckering at the side of her mouth but once he yanked down his trousers, he dove all in. His protective, callused palms rubbed up and down her shoulders, amping up the heat between both sets of her lips. When Lana bit down on his bottom lip, he in turn pinched both of her nipples. She couldn't tell which of them cried out in that pleasureful pain first, perhaps they both did at the same time.
Her fingers trailed down his side, trying to reach around to give a good grab of that taut ass that so often tempted her. Laughing at her attempts, Cullen rose up and leaned closer so she could dig in, the hard muscles tightening under her fingers driving awake every ounce of her libido. He pressed a kiss to her head, finding her fascination with his backside entertaining until she rolled her fingers around his hips, and gripped tight to his cock. She watched the groan roll up his throat, the adams apple darting high while Cullen's head tipped backwards. Lana took her time reminding herself how much she missed all of his body.
Gasping for air, Cullen placed his wandering hands upon her shoulders to steady himself as she rolled her fingers up and down his cock. Her movements steady as a heartbeat, she could see his own blood pounding away from his neck as Cullen stretched higher. He looked as if he yearned to thrust away, but kept himself locked in place, wanting to savor every second of this.
My Love Page 111