"Seriously, though." Isabela leaned back against Aveline's desk. "You've been without for what, three, four years?"
Aveline made a show of shuffling her papers. "That's something I don't care to discuss."
The pirate's low laughter filled the room. "Oh, but I do. I care to discuss it very much. Three years? Wouldn't you forget how to do it after so long?"
Aveline shoved her chair back so hard it crashed into the bookshelf. "That's it! I've had it with you!"
Isabela leaped back, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Easy, big girl! Only trying to help." She lowered her hands and sidled a bit closer, hips swaying. "Three years without so much as a kiss? Don't you think Donnic will know?" She inched even closer, putting one knee up on the desk and a hand against Aveline's breastplate. "Don't you think he might...notice?"
Aveline jerked back. "Hands off, you tart!"
The truth was, Isabela wasn't saying anything that Aveline hadn't already thought of. In her darker hours, long nights spent at the barracks going through paperwork, she couldn't stop her imagination playing it out. Like some scene from a comedic play, she saw herself biting - Maker, no, not the biting - or, or slobbering; saw Donnic excusing himself with a hand to his bleeding lips. And of course the entire guard would hear about it in two, maybe three hours. Varric would probably put it in his next serial.
Aveline shut her eyes tight. "Just...get it over with."
Isabela raised her eyebrows. "Oh, big girl, don't you know it doesn't count if you're not enjoying it?" She reached out and took Aveline's chin in a firm but not unkind grasp. "Open your eyes. I promise you'll enjoy it." She gave a lascivious chuckle. "I know a good kiss."
"If I hear any gossip about this, I...I'll..."
"Relax." Isabela leaned forwards, impossibly close, and Aveline had a million what in the Maker's name am I doing moments before the pirate closed the gap between them and pressed her lips against hers. Her lips were soft, slightly salty-tasting; so very different from kissing a man. Isabela slipped her hand into Aveline's hair and deftly unknotted the tie, letting her carrot-colored hair fall. "You've got such lovely hair, sweet thing," she whispered against Aveline's mouth. "Loosen up a bit."
If that's the way it's going to be... Aveline pushed forwards suddenly, ignoring Isabela's startled gasp, and slammed her down on her desk. "Poxy tart."
Isabela grinned up at her. "Lady Man-Hands. You'll be all right."
Next month's Hard in Hightown serial had a particularly filthy tryst between an inexperienced guardswoman and a knowing pirate.
Re: Aveline/Isabela
"Seriously, though." Isabela leaned back against Aveline's desk. "You've been without for what, three, four years?"
Aveline made a show of shuffling her papers. "That's something I don't care to discuss."
The pirate's low laughter filled the room. "Oh, but I do. I care to discuss it very much. Three years? Wouldn't you forget how to do it after so long?"
Aveline shoved her chair back so hard it crashed into the bookshelf. "That's it! I've had it with you!"
Isabela leaped back, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Easy, big girl! Only trying to help." She lowered her hands and sidled a bit closer, hips swaying. "Three years without so much as a kiss? Don't you think Donnic will know?" She inched even closer, putting one knee up on the desk and a hand against Aveline's breastplate. "Don't you think he might...notice?"
Aveline jerked back. "Hands off, you tart!"
The truth was, Isabela wasn't saying anything that Aveline hadn't already thought of. In her darker hours, long nights spent at the barracks going through paperwork, she couldn't stop her imagination playing it out. Like some scene from a comedic play, she saw herself biting - Maker, no, not the biting - or, or slobbering; saw Donnic excusing himself with a hand to his bleeding lips. And of course the entire guard would hear about it in two, maybe three hours. Varric would probably put it in his next serial.
Aveline shut her eyes tight. "Just...get it over with."
Isabela raised her eyebrows. "Oh, big girl, don't you know it doesn't count if you're not enjoying it?" She reached out and took Aveline's chin in a firm but not unkind grasp. "Open your eyes. I promise you'll enjoy it." She gave a lascivious chuckle. "I know a good kiss."
"If I hear any gossip about this, I...I'll..."
"Relax." Isabela leaned forwards, impossibly close, and Aveline had a million what in the Maker's name am I doing moments before the pirate closed the gap between them and pressed her lips against hers. Her lips were soft, slightly salty-tasting; so very different from kissing a man. Isabela slipped her hand into Aveline's hair and deftly unknotted the tie, letting her carrot-colored hair fall. "You've got such lovely hair, sweet thing," she whispered against Aveline's mouth. "Loosen up a bit."
If that's the way it's going to be... Aveline pushed forwards suddenly, ignoring Isabela's startled gasp, and slammed her down on her desk. "Poxy tart."
Isabela grinned up at her. "Lady Man-Hands. You'll be all right."
Next month's Hard in Hightown serial had a particularly filthy tryst between an inexperienced guardswoman and a knowing pirate.