“Teach me how to kiss…”
A snorted laugh interrupted her and Demetra deliberately ignored it, clearing her throat “Teach me how to kiss your velvety lips. My burning passion can’t be restrained anymore, but I’ve never known the delights of sensual love before… ok, that’s enough!” she snapped, when Cullen cracked up, practically howling. The Commander collapsed on her desk, almost making a pile of paper falling down, guffawing without shame. Demetra closed the book, marching towards him “This is the last time I read for you! I knew you were going to laugh! I knew it!”
He tried to reply something, but she huffed annoyed, “Why did I even propose to read for you?!”
“Love… I appreciated the thought, truly!”
“Ah, I can see it!” she retorted, pushing back a lock from her long braid.
“But… the delights of love?” he cackled, barely restrain himself from bursting in another series of laughs. She crossed her arms, ready to defend the last addition to her books collection “Well, the main character is a virgin, raised by the Chantry for all her life! He’s the first man she… interacted with! I suppose it’s a perfectly reasonable request!”
“The delights of sensual love?”
“She… she was trying to be poetic!”
“Velvety lips?”
“What she was supposed to say?” she replied, “With your chapped lips which probably hadn’t seen any cleanliness in years?”. Cullen laughed again, hearing that. She held back the impulse to stick her tongue out. From the cover of her book, the very slender, very blonde protagonist seemed to agree with her, while a shirtless, strapping man with board shoulders was busy to look at the blonde woman’s cleavage. Her not so modest cleavage, Demetra thought. She knew that was terrible literature. Maker, the title itself was a guarantee of that - Vows of Passion, by an anonymous author. It was a cheesy romance, with clichè handsome protagonists poorly written, acrobatic and unrealistic smutty scenes, and a predictable happy ending - Demetra was sure the woman was going to find out she was the lost daughter of the Arle, the only heir of a vast fortune. Even Cassandra hadn’t seemed particularly eager to read it. Actually, she wisely suggested to Demetra to hide the volume from the other companions during their journey. Still, the Inquisitor liked that story. It was a ridiculous, harmless break in her usual reading. A little guilty pleasure, in place of her enormous volumes of history and ancient languages, and the pile of military reports. Sure, Demetra had already other types of books for when she wanted something lighter, but the smutty literature was a recent discovery in her life, and she was still thrilled about it.
“Oh, so warriors’ mouths are chapped and dirty?” Cullen’s voice asked.
Even without looking at him, she knew he was grinning. That little, a bit salacious, a lot sly grin which made her blood sang in her veins. And… in other places.
“Well, I don’t think a knight errant, as this sir Randolph is, had a lot of time to spent in his beauty routine,” she said, still a bit huffy, the book firmly pressed against her chest. Cullen sauntered near her, but before he could do or say something, she snapped “Alright, it’s an awful book, it’s silly and a waste of money, but I just enjoy it! And now, you can mock me as much as it pleases you!”
“Oh, love.” he smiled kissing the top of her head, embracing her firmly “I didn’t want to upset you. You surely have the right to like whatever you want. Just…”
“This book is beyond ridiculous. I know.” she completed grumpy, enjoying more than she was ready to admit that Cullen wasn’t wearing his armor - not unusual when they worked together in the coziness of her bedroom. He sat on the edge of her desk, his work forgotten for a while, making her laying against his chest. She held back the instinct to kiss his neck, rubbing her lips against his stubble “Anyway, not all knights have bad mouths, you know?”
“Oh?” he arched an eyebrow, leaning a little towards her. She nodded, freeing a hand for running her fingers through his hair “For example, I think Blackwall takes great care of his mouth.”
“Truly?” he grinned back, his hand lazily resting really close to her backside. She nodded again, with a solemn air, “And Bull too doesn’t have a bad mouth, I think.”
“Do you? What about your Commander?”
“Oh,” she sighed dramatically, “I think I remember he has quite a nice mouth, but it has been hours since he kissed me properly… umpfh!”. A laugh bubbled from her chest when Cullen pushed his lips against hers before she could finish her teasing sentence. Demetra pressed back more firmly against him, the sharp edges of the book, bothering her a little. Oh, her Commander had really a fine mouth, she thought with a smile, while his tongue was chasing hers. Sir Randolph wouldn’t have a chance against Cullen. Actually, she knew that for her nobody would have a chance to be better than Cullen. Demetra smirked, nipping his lower lip, making him growling faintly, pleased and relaxed. Standing on her toes, she placed a kiss - or maybe two - on the scar that bisected his upper lip, making him smile.
“A very nice mouth.” she said firmly, in her best Inquisitor voice, “Very nice and very skilled. I approve it.”
“Glad to hear it, Your Worship,” he replied, before proving her once again he had, indeed, a very skilled pair of lips.
