With a moan rattling in her throat, Anjali slid back from the kiss, but her hands didn't leave Rosie's body. Her heavy lidded eyes slipped open to beam an umber surprise at the princess. "Sapheela," the assassin whispered, her voice softer than a ribbon.
"I want you," Rosie said, her green eyes only upon Anjali. She didn't care if anyone overheard, if anyone knew. She'd wanted this for...too long.
The assassin snickered a moment, ran her teeth against her bottom lip, then pulled Rosamund to her for a toe curling kiss. Sweet Maker, it tasted better with each return, as if Anjali could soothe her soul with a simple touch of the lips. She broke from Rosie, her lips trailing a breath away from her supple cheek. Upon landing at her ear, Anjali whispered, "As you command."
Grabbing onto Rosie's hand, Anjali pulled the princess through the rain back towards the tactical tent. Her feet stumbled at first, Rosie's mind numb to the possibility of what was about to happen, when her body caught on fast. Greedily, it picked up speed, a laugh escaping from her throat as she and Anjali ran together into the freedom of the tent.
The canvas flap barely fell to the ground before their lips found each other again. Rosie stumbled backwards, Anjali bumping her into the tactics table, while her fingers threaded through Rosie's waterlogged hair. The princess' hands were busy too, both starting at the top of Anjali's shoulders and curling downward to follow the scoop of her outer ribs. She trailed them inward, savoring the bend to her waist before landing upon those feminine hips. The ones Rosie wanted to knead her palms over for weeks, that she dreamed of feeling sliding against hers.
Certain, Anjali's skilled hands began to undo the first two buttons upon Rosie's dress. Both fell apart, revealing her damp, pale skin rising in goosebumps. "Is my beautiful princess, cold?" Anjali mused. Before Rosie had a chance to respond, she dipped down to press a hot kiss to Rosie's décolletage.
Sweet Maker! She elongated her neck, her head practically dangling backwards as Anjali's tongue lapped a trail from the top of one breast to the other. With each kiss, the assassin undid another button, revealing more of Rosamund's body to her expert touch. Rosie bit down on her lip when she felt the cold dress's compression fall away from her breasts.
Anjali paused, rising up from where her chin had nestled in between Rosie's cleavage. Her palm cupped around the back of Rosie's head, gently pulling her up to stare into Anjali's striking eyes. "Your turn," she breathed against Rosamund's cheek before drawing a long kiss from her.
Confused, Rosie waited limply for an explanation, when Anjali picked up both of her hands and guided them to a hidden set of buttons at the back of her leathers. A breath caught in Rosie's throat, her fingers poised to strip the shirt off the woman who was staring right into her eyes. She ached to, but...
"Please," Anjali whispered, "be gentle."
It was said in such a lighthearted tone, Rosie snickered, her libido flaring alive twice as strong. Plunging her lips deep onto Anjali's inviting ones, she worked to undo an eternal line of tiny buttons. The whole time her breathtaking assassin kept cupping her fingers up and down Rosie's hips, tugging the opened dress further apart. Wet edges dragged against her straining nipples, both begging for something she could barely understand.
Maker's sake, it was hard to concentrate on such tiny buttons slipping below her trembling fingers. Half of the leathers opened from the side, splitting to reveal a swell of Anjali's tear-drop breast. An urge to place her lips against the soft, dark brown skin flared in Rosie's mind, but she had to get the cursed thing off first. And Anjali was drawing her fingers up and down the unbuttoned ends of Rosie's dress. At the bottom, she'd fan her fingers right under Rosie's bosom as if to support them, then dip in tight for a kiss.
"This is blighted impossible," Rosie snarled, barely making any progress.
With a laugh, Anjali's hands broke from their caress. "Okay, we can be a bit less gentle." Grabbing onto both ends of her leathers, Anjali gave a great tug. The buttons popped apart from their snares, revealing a dark plum nipple prodding slightly downward from the swollen breast.
Carefully, Rosie reached over to tug away the still dangling side of Anjali's tunic. Her left breast was slightly smaller, that nipple pointing right at Rosie as if it wanted her ministrations first.
"Do you like it?" Anjali asked in a dusky voice.
Rosie's head nodded dumbly, her hands frozen in place as she stared in rapture at this other woman's chest. This woman that wanted her to look, to share, to hopefully touch.
"Not a lot of people get to see this tattoo," she whispered, her fingers sliding off of Rosie to circle below her breasts.
The princess blinked in surprise. She'd been so lost in the other carnal delights, she failed to even notice the red ribbon coiled like a sunning snake across Anjali's torso. The next end began right at the swell of her left breast, before curling twice across her stomach and sliding towards the back.
"Do they continue around your...?" Rosie began before blushing terribly. She tried to point towards Anjali's ass and the woman smiled at the princess' obvious pain.
"Would you like to find out?" Anjali asked. Dumbly, Rosie nodded her head. Needing no more, the woman tossed off her leather armor onto the ground, then unbuttoned her pants. It all wound up in a wet pile atop her boots, leaving Rosie gasping for air.
She wanted to run her nails up the thighs straining from Anjali's stance. To press her hot lips against the calves and down to the ankle. To drape her thumbs into the part where the thighs met and... Maker's sake, she was drawn to Anjali's pubic hair, hoping to trail her fingers through it and find so much better below.
"Sapheela," she curled her fingers over Rosie's jaw, the naked woman pressing into her with a deep kiss. Even with half of her dress in the way, Rosie could feel Anjali's tight body, the muscles of her legs knocking into hers. How her breasts molded and formed with Rosie's. The princess didn't even realize she was caressing Anjali's chest until the woman moaned in the back of her mouth.
"Andraste, keep going," she ordered, Rosie curling her palm over the fullness of her breasts. As each finger bone bumped over Anjali's nipple, the woman gasped, her body squirming over top of Rosie's. Far in the distance, she could feel the table grinding into her backside, but Rosie didn't care. There was no pain while she was wrapped around such perfection.
Even while Anjali's head was thrown back, her breasts both clutched in Rosie's fingers, the assassin managed to tug down Rosie's dress. First one end slid off her shoulder, revealing the divot of her collarbone. Anjali paused in her throes to press a kiss against Rosie's milky skin. Each petal touch burned through her body, ramping up Rosie's desire.
"Take it off," Rosie growled, her eyes whipping over to the remaining shoulder covered in her wet dress.
"As my lady commands," Anjali smiled. As with her tunic before, the assassin gripped onto Rosie's dress and yanked hard. This time, a few buttons popped free, springing through the tent to land upon dewy grass, but Rosie didn't care. While the dress tumbled to the ground, Anjali's warm fingers caressed first from the top of her shoulders down towards Rosie's straining breasts.
When both dipped along the sides, Rosie moaned from deep within her core. Anjali matched it, her fingers straining to fully envelop Rosie's bust. "Blessed Maker," both women gasped, Anjali circling her fingers to invigorate Rosie's nipples.
She felt as if her brain was on fire, the liquid heat dripping down her spine to spread through every limb, every finger and toe. Her heart throbbed harder, practically reaching up to her ribs to beg for more. With a slow trail, Anjali drew her lips down Rosie's pale skin. Upon reaching Rosie's breast, the woman smiled, "As red as your name." She was about to ask what that meant, when Anjali plunged her lips around Rosie's nipple.
Holy Andraste! Her spine arced, lifting Rosie's lower chest higher. She wanted Anjali to have access, to have it all, to draw as much of Rosie inside her mouth as she could. To see and savor all of her, as much as the assassin wanted.
Fingers hoo
ked around Anjali's waist began to tremble, Rosie's toes foolishly tapping as she kept bouncing on her heels. It was too much. It wasn't enough. It was...she didn't know, but blighted hell she wanted more.
The assassin barely switched to lapping up her other nipple, when Rosie dared to let her fingers slide over the top of Anjali's thighs. Her fingers thrummed upon the taut muscle, gently kneading it the way she'd dreamed at night. With each swipe of her paws, Rosie's skinny fingers dipped deeper in. A thrush of downy soft pubic hair skirted over the top of her index finger and a breath caught in her throat.
Catching that something changed, Anjali lifted her head up to stare right into Rosie's emerald eyes. At the look, Rosie's fingers froze, her spine locking in tight. Somewhere in the back of her brain buzzed every half whispered thought on why this was idiotic, ill defined, not to be considered.
Then Anjali's toe curling smile lifted up her succulent lips and obliterated every fear locked inside Rosie's heart. Butting her head tight, Rosie kissed the deadly assassin with her lips, and gently thumbed down the middle of her opening. It caught the woman by such a surprise, Anjali gasped into Rosie's mouth. Her entire spine was buzzing like bubbles in champagne, Rosie's cheeks burning hotter as she was drawn to the same full, plush, inviting lips dangling outside the tight cropping of pubic hair.
"Mmm," Anjali murmured, her mouth darting close to Rosie's ear even as she widened her stance. "You approve?"
She gasped out a snort, barely capable of forming a thought. Like dipping a toe into the still water, uncertain if she wanted to dive in, Rosie kept skimming over Anjali. Her lubrication smoothed Rosie's clumsy attempt, trying to invite her to take the plunge, but she was uncertain what to do.
Anjali ran her fingers down Rosie's arm, her nails softly raising the skin and inviting more goosebumps. "I do believe it is customary that royalty is always served first."
Before Rosie could swivel her eyes, Anjali scooped her hands around the princess' bottom and hauled her up onto the table. Tacks, papers, reports -- all of it scattered to the damp ground while the dark assassin bent Rosie backwards. Anjali slotted in between her legs, using only her mouth to guide Rosie to lay upon the map of Ferelden. The Frostbacks graced her head, all of Ferelden proper supporting her back, while Denerim...wound up right in the middle of her thighs.
Anjali's fingers cupped against Rosie's cheek, her lips trailing hot kisses upon the princess' shoulders, breasts, her soft stomach, and even lower. When she reached nearly the end of her, Anjali dipped to a knee.
"Wh...what are you doing?" Rosie struggled to rise up on her elbows, but the woman smiled.
"Trust me," she winked and parted her hand down the middle of Rosie's pubic hair. The princess sat upon pins and needles, waiting for a finger much like her own to slip inside, to circle around her clitoris, or thrum until she exploded. But the assassin wasn't forging her trail with a finger, but her lips.
The first kiss began right above the top of Rosie's slit, barely a peck. The next caused her to buck her head back, her hand slapping into Orlais for leverage. "Red too," Anjali mused before her warm, wet tongue lapped against Rosie's lower lips. This other kind of kiss sent the princess reeling, her tongue lagging out and her chest heaving in a never ending pant.
Dragging her tongue in a circle, Anjali seemed to be tormenting Rosie with pleasure, each lap of her clitoris causing the princess to squeal. Her toes dangled behind Anjali's back, both digging into the woman's warm skin as she kept curling them. This was, this was how she wanted to die. With her body on fire, her breasts spilling and trembling as she struggled to shovel air in, and a woman lapping her lips and tongue against her most intimate parts.
Anjali dug her hands under Rosie's legs, lifting the princess higher. She dove in with more gusto, slurping and sucking her way around the princess' button. White spots burst upon the side's of Rosie's vision. She tried to stare down at the woman between her legs, but she could barely see anything. Her hearing vanished, the blood fully rushing in to fill the gap as waves washed away all sound. But in their wake the waves left a tingling pleasure growing stronger with each breath. It threatened to consume Rosie whole, to smother away her very being and she was grateful to lay down and allow it.
"Sweet fucking Maker!" Rosie shrieked at the top of her lungs, her hands slapping hard into the table as the orgasm knotted up her soul into a perfect bow. Her body writhed upon the table, Rosie attempting to take in a breath that didn't cause her lungs to sing in pleasure. Below her, she felt Anjali pause a beat, her fingers rubbing up and down Rosie's chunky calves.
"So that's what it takes to make you curse," the assassin whispered. "How about another?" She moved to press a kiss back upon her canvas, but Rosie hissed and scooted away. Her entire core was aflame, the tissue far too sensitive to be touched.
"Wait, wait, it's..." she gasped, shaking away the tears that sprung in her eyes, "too much right now." Rosie sat up, her eyes meeting with Anjali's. "You're too much."
A blush burned up her cheeks for saying such a foolish notion, but Anjali rose up off of her knees. She draped her hands around the back of Rosie, her palms rolling up and down her spine. "Your turn," Anjali snickered, plunging her lips that tasted of Rosie back onto herself.
The assassin climbed up onto the table, pinning Rosamund below her limber body. Her knees dug into the side of the princess' white thighs, Rosie tracing her nails up and down the muscle below. She wanted to kiss her the same, to undo this woman the same as she did to her, but...
"Anjali," her teeth bit into her bottom lip, Rosie's eyes darting up to her in concern. "I've never, um..."
The smile brought one to Rosie's worried face, Anjali dropping her elbows beside Rosie's head to cup her cheeks. "My Sapheela..." she murmured, taking another kiss from her unquenchable lips. "Here," Anjali drew her fingers along Rosie's, her palm curling up the back of Rosie's hand until she molded around it.
Tugging it forward, Anjali slid up higher and shifted her legs apart. "Together," she whispered before guiding Rosie's index finger deep inside of her. Anjali groaned, her hips rolling while Rosie's tongue lolled back in her mouth.
It was warm, silky smooth, powerful, inviting, wily -- everything she thought of the assassin that fell into her lap. She plunged their twinned fingers deeper inside, trying to memorize every bump and twist inside this other woman. "Blessed be," Anjali gasped. As she rode harder, her free hand cupped against Rosie's spilled over breast. That caused Rosie to suck in a breath, her body adoring how tightly the woman gripped onto her flesh, and how Anjali's body gripped onto her finger.
Lost in the moment, Rosie curled her thumb forward and gently traced a circle around Anjali's clit. "Faster," the woman commanded, her eyes shut tight as she kept moving with the rhythm. Happy to obey, Rosie picked up speed, gliding her thumb rapidly against the top of the nub.
"Holy shit," Anjali shouted, her entire body locking in while the woman below her wasn't going to give up for anything. "Gah ha ha!" she cried, her head snapping back when Rosie felt the pulses cinching up against their shared fingers. The orgasm flushed Anjali's entire body, her ribbon glowing like firelight against her glistening skin. Rosie wanted to trail her lips across every inch, but she had to settle for curling her free fingers instead. The others remained trapped inside Anjali, where they belonged.
"You..." Anjali's eyes opened wide a moment, before they dipped down into a sly look. "You take orders well for royalty."
Slowly, Anjali withdrew her hand and Rosie's, the woman needing both as she flopped on top of the princess. Exhausted, Rosie cupped her hand against the back of Anjali's hair and placed her flushed lips to her forehead. The woman nestled tighter to Rosie's naked chest, her nose bumping right into an old mole shaped like a book.
"It's not difficult when they come from you," Rosie whispered.
She expected a smart comeback, but Anjali only curled her hands tighter around Rosie's shoulders, both women fading together into a waking dream. Sweet Maker! Rosie's eye
s shot open wide as she realized the princess of Ferelden just slept with a woman on top of a map of her future country.
What would her old tutors have said about that one?
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Sapheela
With her head cradled against the crook of Anjali's arm, Rosie wished she could drift off to sleep on the chest of a beautiful woman. Sadly, whenever her breath slowed, and her eyelids lowered, the storm would flare up outside and rock her back awake. They both lay upon the ground, Anjali stretching her naked body across the grass to take most of the cold while Rosie cuddled against her. When the tactics table began to creek from their combined weight, they had to skitter off it. She did not want to have to explain to Karelle or anyone else how she managed to break it.
Fingers rifled through Rosie's hair, lifting the back half and exposing her cowlick she always did her best to hide. Lost in the thrum of her hair being tugged and caressed, Rosie drew her arm across Anjali's stomach. At first she trailed the tattoo, savoring the twists and whorls of the inked ribbon, but her eyes kept being drawn to how pale her skin looked next to Anjali's.
Pale enough one could see her blue veins prodding up from below the white flesh. They were most evident upon her breasts, straining to match some of the stretch marks along the side. Anjali was blessed with neither, her pair pure as silk. Rosie chewed on her lip, watching the assassin's breasts rise and fall with her breath.
"We could get you a tattoo," Anjali spoke up. She must have caught Rosie drawing across hers and read the scene differently.
A small blush burned on her cheeks and she shook her head.
"Come on, maybe a...what are those dogs called?"
"Mabari."
"Yes," the hand secured around Rosie's back to keep her close began to drift down, "right here above your bottom. A secret."
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