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You're poking the bottle with one pinkie because the white gush that's slushing around looks positively disgusting- you can hear Sebille rumage around for sleeping potions but you pay it no mind.
"If you are so bored, darling, you could just look at the other stalls," she comments, voice still laced with sarcasm but since your time spent together it's become a friendly sarcasm. Like a friend that does not quite know how to friend.
She's trying and that's the most important thing.
“You’re not going to...drink that, are you?” you ask Sebille calmly when you see her inspecting a poison flask- the sickly green is swirling and she doesn’t look over to you at your question.
“My dear, I thought it was pretty clear this is meant for throwing at an enemy,” she says calmly, her voice regal as ever, and you smile.
“You never know. Just checking you’re doing alright,” you smile at her- Sebille was a worthwhile companion and a good friend, and you knew she was still facing many hardships.
“Of course, my friend.”
You turn around to spot your other companions: Beast is chatting up some Dwarven ladies with stories of his adventures past- cracking a song into his tales every now and then. Ifan, however, was nowhere to be seen. After your quite intimate encounter on the Lady Vengeance, he’d been off here and there disappearing from your group every once in awhile.
It made you wonder.
“Have you seen Ifan?”
Sebille casts a quick look at your surroundings at your question before shrugging.
“Must be off playing Lone Wolf somewhere,” she grins, turning to you with predatory eyes.
“Already missing him, Godwoken?”
You turn red almost completely at her statement because it’s nothing but the truth- but you weren’t going to tell her that. There was a certain fun to be had in not always admitting Sebille was right.
Even though she was right most of the time.
“I’ll go take a look at the shadow-y merchant down on the docks,” you sigh while fanning your face with a hand- the warmth stays.
No sooner have you set foot on the creaky wooden planks before a firm hand wraps around your shoulder and pulls you away- you find yourself running along at the speed of your assailant.
If anything, you were sure you could take them in a fight if necessary. Not to toot your own horn but you were the Godwoken- you’d braved Fort Joy and waltzed out of it- and you’d done a hell of a lot of fighting to even get here in one piece. But when you turned- both stopping in your tracks- you got pushed up against a stone wall and felt the familiar tickle of Ifan’s beard on your cheek.
“How’s my favourite Godwoken?” he smirks against your blush and you slap his shoulder a few times.
“Don’t just disappear and then kidnap me, what will Sebille think?” you are smiling despite your statement, and when he pulls back to have his discoloured eyes stare into yours, you have to hold back from groping him right then and there.
“I thought we could use a break.”
“We have a Dallis to kill,” you retort at lightning speed.
“5 minutes is all I ask for, my darling,” he states and emphasizes by dragging a hand down your stomach and into your pants.
You arch right into him with a whine- holding on to his shoulders.
“5 minutes, then,” you manage to stutter as he rubs along your folds with a determination you hadn’t quite seen him with yet- at least not during sex. He always was all ‘let’s take our time’ and such.
You weren’t complaining when he found your clit with his thumb and spread your folds slightly with his other fingers.
“Mm, Ifan,” you moan, “why the sudden surge in affection?”
He’s breathing heavy against your neck- beard tickling and breath hot.
“Told you when we jumped ship I wanted to jump you right there and then.”
You do remember him saying that- and you playfully patting his head in return.
“I see-”
You’re cut off by Ifan inserting a finger- moving back and forth in a steady rhythm and you are wondering why his circulation isn’t cut off by your clothing yet. When you’ve stopped seeing stars, you let one of your own hands roam down along his armor into his pants and you find he is absolutely rock hard .
Ifan was, despite his greying hair and playful wrinkles, still very youthful and quite...gifted down there.
Moving along to the pace that he’s deciding, you take him into your hand and start rubbing up and down- hardly focused because you’re panting against his temples.
Right when he’s easing in another finger- spreading you wonderfully and hitting the spot- you hear wood creaking and people talking. You gasp in a panic and accidentally grip his length tighter.
“There’s someone coming-”
“Let them see. Anyone would be enchanted by your face right now,” he groans against your skin before sloppily kissing and biting down.
“I’m flattered but-” you start with a gasp as his teeth scrape along your neck.
“Let me have this moment, my sweet-” he almost begs- he wasn’t the type to actually beg, but you can hear the restraint in his voice while you feel a bit of precum coating your fingers.
You give a nod and he can’t see it but feel it- so he pulls down your trousers and underwear in one swift tug so they’re resting on your hips. The cold air hits your hot body and the sensation makes you tense up slightly as you finally lean back against the wall of the docks properly- Ifan lends you a hand by raising you up and straddling your legs around his body.
You hadn’t even noticed him pulling down his bottoms.
Slowly- testing, no doubt- his tip rubs along your cunt and you pull his face towards yours so you can kiss him. It’s all teeth and passion and you gasp against his tongue when he enters in one fell swoop- his hip motions jagged and in a hurry.
You do your best to keep your voice down- either engaging it with kissing Ifan or biting down on your fist so no sounds escape- and Ifan keeps quiet by running his mouth along your cheekbones and ears and neck. He bites and scrapes without any reservation- where he’d previously seemed intent on not hurting you, he’s now fully aware that it takes more than passionate fucking to do that.
When he pushes in exceptionally deep all of a sudden, you can’t help clenching down and you hear him grunt in response.
“Almost there,” he manages to say quietly, trusting one hand to support your back as the other goes down to rub at your clit.
Your legs grip him tighter and you let him dictate the movement of your body while you’re anticipating sweet release- warmth coiling and face blushing.
You feel him filling you up and he groans deeply- it’s almost a roar- resting his sweating face on your shoulder while you gasp for fresh air.
“Finally found our Lone Wolf, have you?” Sebille mocks, the hint of a smile on her face while her eyes sparkle.
“I did,” you confirm quietly, adjusting your pants a little. Your hair is messed up and no doubt it looks weird that you’re both sweaty and flushed- Sebille is smart.
“Good. There’s Magisters to hunt down.”