Starling - A Dragon Age Fanfiction

Chapter 10

She was laid out like a feast, her bare skin glowing golden in the soft candlelight. Viago was already on top of her, kissing her slowly, coaxing, her fingers curling into the sheets beside her head, but Lucanis caught her hand before it slipped down again.

She glanced over, curious, still breathless from Viago’s mouth on hers.

Lucanis pulled the length of silk rope from the bedside drawer. Soft, black. Strong enough to hold. Her brow arched.

“Indulge me,” he said simply.

She huffed a laugh but didn’t protest as he brought her wrist to the post and looped the rope around it. Her pulse fluttered against the silk. The knot slid tight, smooth and secure.

Viago, without being asked, took her other arm and bound it to the opposite post, his knot just as deft.

She tested them once, tugged, not hard. They held. Her eyes flicked between the two men, mouth slightly parted. She looked… Wary? A little. But not afraid. Excited.

He could see it in her breath, shallow and sharp, in the way her chest lifted and fell. Her arms stretched wide, held in place, her body open and waiting.

Viago leaned down, catching her mouth again, and Lucanis descended.

He pressed a kiss to her navel, another just below. Slow and reverent. She was already warm, already pliant beneath them. Already theirs. He dragged his mouth lower, shifted her thighs over his shoulders and settled in.

The first stroke of his tongue made her jolt. The second had her moaning into Viago’s kiss.

She tried to reach for them - instinct maybe, muscle memory - but the silken restraints held her fast. Her fingers curled instead, her hips tilting helplessly toward his mouth.

Lucanis reveled in her. The taste of her, sweet and salt and heat. The way her thighs clenched around his head, the high-pitched sounds spilling out of her mouth only to be swallowed by Viago’s lips. The way her body strained without thought, seeking more. Always more.

And when she came, gasping, arching, clenching around nothing - he didn’t stop.

She tried to pull away, overwhelmed by the sudden sensitivity, trembling. He held her. His hands anchored her hips, thumbs pressing firm, tongue relentless. He devoured her like he meant to draw every secret she’d ever held from between her thighs.

She cried out again, back arching in a sharp wave, thighs trembling against his jaw. And still, he didn’t stop. Tired and tied. That’s what he wanted. They were going to leave her ruined. Worshipped and utterly wrecked.

His. Theirs. And she wouldn’t be leaving quietly this time.

--

She was limp between them. Boneless. Spent. A beautifully wrecked little thing with flushed cheeks, damp skin, and her hair a wild halo on the pillows. The ropes still held her arms wide, but loosely now, he’d adjusted them just enough that her shoulders wouldn’t ache, wouldn’t cramp while she slept.

But not enough to free her.

She’d earned her rest. They’d given her none during the hours before, none but what she could snatch in fleeting seconds between them. Every sound she made had only encouraged more. When she trembled, they held her. When she moaned, they fed on it. And when she whimpered - half-sobbed, hoarse and breathless - he’d kissed her until she melted again, whispering soft things between strokes.

They’d taken turns, of course. Efficiency had its own kind of decadence.

And now, with her body spent and her eyes fluttering shut, Viago gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, watching her sink down into sleep. Her breath was soft and shallow. There was a faint, dreamless twitch in her fingers, still lashed above her.

He curled close against her side, his palm gliding lazily over the soft skin of her hip before settling on her thigh. The warmth of her radiated between them, all smooth skin and the faintest bruises from earlier, his fingertips, Lucanis’s grip, their mouths. All of it written on her.

He pulled the blanket up carefully, tucking it over her with a quiet gentleness. She didn't stir, not even when he kissed the side of her throat one last time. Just a little sigh and the flutter of her lashes.

On her other side, Lucanis had already settled, half-propped against the pillows, one long arm sprawled across her belly, protective even in sleep. His fingers twitched like he was dreaming, or anchoring her even now. Viago didn’t know which. Maybe both.

He lay back with a contented sigh, his eyes tracing the ceiling above them.

She was going to wake up and realize she couldn’t leave. Not unless she asked. And Maker help him, he hoped she did.

--

She woke slowly, awareness dripping back into her body like molasses. Her limbs ached, pleasantly sore in that deep and ruinous way, and her thighs felt slick, sticky with the remnants of everything they’d done to her. Her cunt throbbed. So did her ass. Her shoulders too, a dull ache where tension had settled into the muscle.

She shifted, groggy, and felt the tug. Her hands were still tied.

It took a moment to register it, how the silk still looped around her wrists, the give of it longer than before, but not enough. She couldn’t reach one wrist with the other. She twisted, tried to slip out, but the knot held firm. That wasn’t an accident. They’d left her tied on purpose.

She pulled again, a little harder, gritting her teeth, but still nothing. Lucanis’s arm across her middle tightened like a noose, and his voice, sleep-rough and amused, slid over her skin.

“Stuck?”

She hated how that sound curled heat low in her belly. She’d never heard him like that before. Warm and teasing. A little raw around the edges, like maybe the mask slipped in the quiet between dreams.

“Yes,” she murmured. “My shoulders are sore.”

He shifted beside her, his lips finding her shoulder, soft and deliberate.

“I’ll take your mind off it.”

His hand trailed low, slower than usual, and by the time his mouth found her n****e she was already trembling again, body caught in the confusing space between soreness and rising pleasure. Bastard. She could barely think, much less resist. And when his fingers found her center and stroked - slow, coaxing, patient - it was like her body remembered what to do before she did. Her breath hitched. Her back arched. Her legs parted for him without thought.

It wasn’t like last night. It wasn’t fast or overwhelming. It was steady. Tender even. And Maker help her, she came for him again, slow and deep, her walls fluttering around his fingers like she was breaking apart from the inside out. She barely noticed him withdraw, barely registered the kiss he left on her shoulder.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmured.

She tugged her wrist, breath still shaky. “I’m still tied.”

“Yes,” he said, and she could hear the smirk in it.

--

She glared at the dark ceiling. Viago would have laughed if he hadn’t been so entirely, pleasantly warm, her voice, her shifting, the soft sounds of Lucanis murmuring against her skin. It had pulled him from the last threads of sleep, and he moved without thinking, curling an arm around her waist and nuzzling the bare line of her shoulder.

“Do you want to be untied, tesora?” he asked softly, lips brushing her skin.

“Yes.” There was an edge to it, frustration and sleep tangled into one, and he felt her stiffen slightly beneath the weight of the bonds, the weariness that came with being thoroughly ruined, knotted, and left in silk.

His lips curved, slow and lazy. “No manners…”

“Please,” she huffed.

There it was. He reached up, fingers finding the knot on his side and working it open. The rope slipped free, and instead of letting her arm drop, he laced his fingers through hers and tugged her into him, rolling her onto her side so her back pressed to his chest. Her body moved like water even now, boneless and warm, pliant in the way only she could be when she was too tired to play games.

Lucanis shifted at the same time, instinctive as breath. He rolled in close, threw one long leg over her, his hand settling across her like it belonged there.

Trapped. Perfectly pressed between them.

Viago smiled against her shoulder, breath warm against the shell of her ear.

“Just one,” he murmured, meaning the wrist still tied to the headboard. “We want to make sure you’re still here in the morning.”

She didn’t say anything. Just let out a long exhale that might’ve been an eye roll in sound form.

He held her free hand in his, tucked it between their bodies, and let his eyes slip closed again.

She was still here. That was what mattered.