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A crash on the stone floor behind startled her, and she gasped. She had knocked one of the bottles off his desk. She turned back to him, an apology leaping to her lips. She opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by his hand tightening on her waist. His eyes searched hers, flitting back and forth. He must have liked what he found there, for a wicked glint appeared in his own and his mouth twitched up into what she had affectionately come to call “the smirk.”
His arm shot out to her side, sweeping paper, pens, and the other detritus of his work to the floor to join the bottle. Asha grinned back at him as she realized what was happening. Cullen’s hands grabbed her rear as he lifted her body off the floor and deposited her on the surface of the desk. Asha put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him down towards her. Their lips met, and she heard him growl softly deep in his throat. He leaned her backwards until she was lying flat on her back, still kissing her with more passion than he had ever shown before. Then he followed, planting a knee on either side of her waist, bending down to resume what they started.
Asha matched his fervor with her own. It had been so long, so long since she had felt – had allowed herself to feel – this connected to anyone. Her fingers fumbled with the folds of cloth that covered his armor, trying and failing to find his skin. She needed to touch him, feel his skin against hers. He seemed to sense her need, and he broke the kiss. Raising up, he reached for the fastenings of his overcoat, undoing them with the speed born of long practice. He shrugged off the heavy pauldrons and tossed them to the floor, then removed his gauntlets before lifting his breastplate over his head.
Asha watched this from her vantage point on the desk, where she had risen up onto her elbows. When Cullen got down to his silken undershirt, she sat up fully and raised her hands to catch the fabric, pushing it up his waist and over his head. Then he was half-naked before her, gazing down at her with eyes that burned with too many emotions for her follow. His arms locked behind her back as she ran her hands up his chest, and he kissed her again, slow and deep this time.
Asha’s fingers found their way up to the back of his neck and twisted into his hair. He growled again as she tugged on it, and his hands left her back and moved around to her front. He cupped her breast through her shirt and she gasped, breaking the kiss and she arched her back to push herself into his hand. His mouth began trailing kisses down her neck as his fingers began working the buttons on her shirt.
Asha started and moved back from him, the trance broken. One hand went to the button he had managed to unfasten at her throat, keeping her collar in place. Cullen’s eyes went wide with confusion that moved quickly to fear, and then to regret. “I…I’m sorry, I must’ve…I thought you wanted this.”
The pain in his voice made Asha close her eyes. How am I going to explain this? “It isn’t you, Cullen. You weren’t wrong. I do want this. It’s just…” She trailed off, unable to think of a way to express her fear. The hand holding her shirt tightened. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Cullen was kneeling on the desk, shirtless, vulnerable. The wound of what he perceived to be her rejection was etched in his features, the candlelight flickering across his face making the shadows there seem somehow deeper. Tears welled in her eyes at the sight.
He reached out a hand to her. “Love, what is it?” The concern in his voice caused those tears to spill over and run down her cheeks. Asha quickly wiped them away with her free hand and tried to compose herself. You are ruining this. You are ruining him. Just explain.
She took a deep breath. “Can we move upstairs? While apparently sturdy, this desk isn’t exactly comfortable.” She attempted a wry grin, meeting his eyes, trying to reassure him that everything was alright. Cullen returned her grin with a soft smile and climbed down, then offered her a hand. “Of course. As my lady wishes.” Asha squeezed his hand gratefully, and continued holding as she followed him over to the ladder leading up to his loft. He gestured for her to go first. Asha refastened her collar and then climbed up.
When she reached the top, Asha moved to the side so the he would have room to follow her. It was darker up here, the only light provided by the moon through the holes in the wooden roof. She had been in his loft once, right after he had moved his things into this tower. She remembered thinking then what she thought now: how in the Maker’s name did he manage to get such a large bed up here? The nonsensical nature of this thought caused her to let out a soft, nervous giggle. She quickly smothered it by clapping one hand to her mouth. You have to get it together. He’s going to think you aren’t taking this seriously.
Cullen had made his way up the ladder by this point. He heard the giggle, and frowned slightly. “What’s funny?”
Asha shook her head in apology. “Nothing, I’m sorry. I suppose I’m just nervous.” Cullen nodded but didn’t say anything more. He moved towards a small table he kept by his bed and lit the lamp standing there. Finished with this mundane task, he seemed unsure of what to do with himself, and so he just stood there, waiting for her to make the next move.
“Let’s sit,” Asha suggested, moving towards the bed. He complied, settling himself next to her on the edge of the bed, back ramrod straight, his expression carefully neutral. Asha took one of his hands in both of hers. “There are some things you need to know about me.” Cullen nodded, still silent.
“Well…first, I suppose I should tell you I’ve only been with one other man before. And that was more than ten years ago. That man is dead. It was my fault.” His eyes widened a bit at that, but otherwise he showed no reaction. Asha continued quickly, afraid that if she stopped now, she wouldn’t finish. “He was an apprentice at the same time as me. We were young, foolish. He came up with a harebrained plan to escape the Circle. I, blinded by my feelings for him, helped him. Our escape failed, and it ended with his death.” She looked down. “I should’ve stopped him, turned us in, anything. If I had, he might still be alive.”
“Love, that wasn’t your fault. You mustn’t –“
Her hands tightened their grip. “You weren’t there. Please don’t try to fix it. Just listen,” Asha said through gritted teeth. Cullen subsided back into silence, but he moved his other hand to rest on top of hers. His thumb started to rub small circles on the back of her hand.
Asha took a shuddering breath and continued, still looking away from his face. “I have an affinity for elemental magic. Fire, more specifically. When I was still young and untrained, my magic sometimes got the better of me, especially if I was not in control of my emotions.” She gave a small laugh. “I burned the inside of the Circle chapel the first week after they took me from my family.” Cullen chuckled a bit, but refrained from commenting to allow her to continue.
“Seeing him die, it…released things inside me I couldn’t control. I was injured. I haven’t let myself lose control like that ever again.” Her voice caught, and she stopped speaking. She freed one of her hands to wipe at her cheeks again. More tears had spilled out during her retelling.
They were both quiet for a moment, then Cullen squeezed her hand. “My turn, now?” he asked quietly. She nodded, still unable to speak. “I may not be taking the lyrium consistently any longer, but I still retain some of my Templar abilities. So if you are worried about hurting me –“
Asha shook her head. “No, it isn’t that. I have worked very hard to ensure I always retain control of my magic. I…” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “There are scars.”
Cullen made a soft sound of sudden understanding. He placed a hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at his. His eyes were wet with tears of his own, his expression full of sympathy. He leaned in slowly and kissed her gently, touching his forehead to hers. Asha closed her eyes.
“Show me,” he said, his voice gentle. Not a demand, a request.
Slowly, Asha turned her back to him and started undoing the buttons of her shirt. There were a lot of buttons on this particular shirt, so it took her a long moment to get to them all. Finally, she shrugged the fabric off of her left shoulder, then her right. She left on the band that held her breasts up, and let the shirt drop to the floor.
She heard Cullen’s sharp intake of breath at the sight of the runnels in her skin, still tinted red even after all these years. The scars ran from midway down her back all the way over her left shoulder, trailing off just above her breast. Unable to make herself turn around, afraid of the horror she would see in his face, she flinched in surprise when she felt his fingers gently touch just where the scars began on her back. His hand paused, a silent question. She nodded, and he began to trace them with his fingertips. When his hand reached her shoulder, she reached back and gripped it with one of her own. He slid closer to her, leaned over and kissed the scarred skin of her back.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against her.
Asha leaned back against him, grateful for his patience, his acceptance. His slid his hand from hers, and moved both to rub the tension out of her shoulders. She let out a groan as he kneaded out knots she hadn’t even known were there. Cullen leaned in and kissed her neck, still gentle. One of his hands stroked up the back of her neck, touching her hair.
“May I?”
Asha nodded, and he reached up and untied her hair from the knot she usually kept it in, combing through the tangles with his fingers until it hung smoothly down the length of her back. He folded his arms around her and pulled her back, cradling her against his chest. He kissed the top of her head. “We don’t have to do anything tonight, if you don’t want to.”
He touched her as if she were a bird who would take flight at the slightest provocation, and she supposed after the way she had reacted earlier she couldn’t blame him. But she wasn’t going to run, not now.
Asha turned in his arms to face him. She reached one hand up, wrapped it around the back of his neck, and kissed him, slow at first but then with increasing fervor. His arms tightened around her as she deepened the kiss, drawing her into him. She pulled back to look in his eyes. He gazed at her with such devotion that her heart skipped a beat or three, unable to believe that this man existed, much less that he loved her. But there it was, written plain on his face.
“I said it had been a long time, not that I had forgotten how to do it,” she said, a mischievous grin on her lips. Cullen smirked back at her.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”