#af.op.fic

Even over this grave -- which, to be clear -- is not his grave. You're actually not sure who's grave you're fucking on top of. You don't care. You were here. Astarion had been teasing you all day. You're both naked now.

You stifle a moan that threatens to wake the very dead you're disrespecting. Pleasure pulses in your core, a heat in your low belly continues to build. You're so fucking close.

And Astarion knows it. His fingers knead into the meat of your ass. He squeezes and spreads your cheeks as his tongue flicks expertly at that little bundle of nerves between your legs.

You grip the headstone with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. When he's like this, focused only on your pleasure, he doesn't notice that you're messing up his curls. He doesn't care.

You roll your hips, grinding down against his face. "You're just so fucking perfect, aren't you?"

He moans in agreement, still completely focused on you. Only you. Gods. You love the bastard.

You raise your hips, lifting off his face and he whines softly. His pupils are blown wide with lust as he stares up at you, almost pleading with you to sit back down.

"You were close. Why stop? Was it something I did?" he asks, breathless.

"No, your mouth is wonderful. But I want more." You glance over your shoulder at his cock. Hard and already leaking pre-cum.

"Gods, yes, please," Astarion whimpers.

You consider turning around, licking a long strip up his length and then taking him into your mouth -- but you don't. Instead, you move slowly, carefully, and scoot down. You press your cunt against his length, spreading your slick all over him.

"I want you to come inside me," you whisper, slowly dragging your cunt along his length. "I do have one rule though."

Astarion bucks his hips up and whines. His hands find your hips and his fingers dig into your flesh. "Anything."

"You have to beg me," you say.

He grips your hips a little tighter. "Please let me fuck you."

"You can do better than that," you whisper.

Astarion pouts, head falling back against the dirt with a moan as you grind along his length. "Please, please, ride me. Gods. I want you. I need you. Please."

"Good boy," you tease. "I think you've earned a reward."

He licks his lips and nods.

You move carefully, shifting to position his cock at your entrance and then you oh, so, slowly sink down onto him. A delicious stretch. Familiar.

How did you get so lucky?

You swallow back a moan, fingernails dragging lightly across his firm chest as you ride him. His hips rise to meet yours, matching your rhythm thrust for thrust. And you're close again -- right at the edge. But you still need to hear him beg.

So you bend down and press your breasts against his bare chest. He meets your eyes with nothing but pure need.

"Beg," you whisper, still moving your hips.

"Gods, love -- fuck," he whimpers.

He's close. When you ride him like this, it ruins him. He's all yours. And he knows it. "Tell me how good I feel. Beg me to let you come."

"Darling, fuck." His eyes flutter shut and he moans softly. He won't last long now.

You grab his chin and keep the pace with your hips. "Beg."

He meets your eyes. Lips softly parted as he gasps for air. Finally, he manages to say, "You feel amazing. Please, please let me come."

"Good boy. Come for me. Fill me, Astarion," you say.

He comes with a moan, spilling himself deep inside you. You're not far behind. Your own orgasm leaves you breathless, lying limp on his chest.

Later that evening, as you headed out into the city to do -- well, that's private isn't it? -- whatever it is you do. You decided to get a little revenge. You leaned against an alley wall and tugged him flush against your body.

He made a small, surprised noise, and quickly melted into your arms. Your hands were the ones toying with hems of pants this time.

You waited until you felt his lips against your neck, kissing as he searched for a vein -- then you pushed him away and continued on with the very important business you had to attend to.

It was little things all night that built your desire. Your need for him. Little touches. The backs of your hands brushing up against each other. A stolen glance, a knowing smile.

I'm here. I love you. I want you.

It wasn't until the threat of dawn sent you scurrying back home that you finally indulged in each other.

It wasn't until you went all day wanting that you found pleasure in each other.

When you got back home, that's when you found yourself with your hands pinned on either side of your head. Astarion's fingers laced with yours.

"Such a tease," he purred. "Taunting me all day. But you're mine now, aren't you?"

"I'm yours, I'm yours, Astarion," you managed to say.

Your breath came in desperate, needy gasps. Sweat dripped down the curve of your neck, mixing with the rivulets of blood from a messy feed.

You felt -- everything. Every inch of your body craved him, needed his skin against yours.

You threw your head back, squirming beneath him as he fucked into you -- slow, languid, drawing out every thrust. He took his time and felt every inch of you.

"Fuck -- fuck, Astarion," you whimpered. "Don't stop. Please."

Your thoughts became distant. He's all you could see. He was everything. You only knew you want more. Harder, faster, closer.

"Gods, you're so good for me. Aren't you, love? So, so good," he whispered.

There was that low rumble of lust and his voice cracked slightly with desire.

"So good, Astarion," you said.

You squeezed your eyes shut, losing yourself completely to pleasure that quickly reached it's peak. "So close, I'm so close --"

"Eyes on me when you come, darling," he commanded.

You were good. So good. You did exactly as you were told. You opened your eyes to find him watching you.

There was that sly smile that showed just a hint of his fangs. His eyes, red, and dark with lust as he reveled in his control over you --

And something else -- love. Gods. He loved you. And you loved him. More than anything. You built a life together. You trusted each other.

You were happy.

You were so happy as you unraveled beneath the man you loved. You were content as he held you, and fucked you through the orgasm that left your legs weak and your vision blurry.

You felt the deepest satisfaction when he, too, came undone with you.

You lay there, with him in your arms, his ear to your chest. You knew, he was listening and counting each beat of your heart. You didn't ask him what he was thinking.

You didn't have to.

“Are you still comfortable, darling?” Astarion says, walking around you to check his work.

You nod. You’re on your knees and completely naked, save for the ropes that Astarion elaborately bound you with. His fingers were quick, and gentle, sapping up your warmth as he worked.

This was your idea, but after a few days Astarion seemed even more excited about it than you. He’d even practiced with the ropes quite diligently. As it turns out, he was a quick study.

“Good. And you remember the safe words we agreed upon?” He bends down to your eye level. There’s something more than just lust in his crimson eyes, there’s excitement — and — gods, love. All this time and his love for you still has not faded. Nor has your love for him.

Your arms are bound behind your back, knees on the floor, legs spread. You nod again. “Red to stop. Yellow to slow down.”

“Good girl.” Astarion stands, towering over you. He’s been shirtless for some time, but his trousers have remained on. “And if your mouth is . . . occupied?”

“I’ll use my teeth,” you tease.

“You absolutely will not use your teeth.” Astarion balks at the idea, and stares down at you with just the slightest hint of horror on his face. 

“I let you use your teeth on me all the time, Astarion. How is this any different?” You are aware that this is very different.

“My . . . member is not something to bite. An agreed upon nibble perhaps, but certainly no biting.”

“If your cock is in my mouth and I want to stop, I will grunt three times in a row. You'll know.”

“Thank you. That is much better. Now, where were we? Oh, yes.” He smiles, it's that same roguish grin that you’d fall for a hundred times. “You look so good, down there on your knees.”

You bite down on your lower lip, heart slamming against your chest, as you stare up at him. You are his, for tonight — and for as long as he’ll keep you. Unable to move. “Use my mouth now, please, Astarion.” Your pleading comes out as barely a whisper.

“What was that, darling? I couldn’t quite hear you,” he teases.

You swallow thickly. “Use my mouth, please. I won’t bite, I swear.”

He laughs, flashing you his fangs. “Such a good girl, surely you know how to please.”

His palm meets your cheek and his thumb presses against your lips and into your mouth. His thumb is salty, calloused, and warm from your skin.

You stifle a moan as he pushes it down against your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut and you suck, diligently, a promise of what you can offer to more intimate places.

You graze his thumb with your teeth, still teasing. Always teasing. But he trusts you and you trust him. Completely.

Your eyes are still closed as you listen to him work his trousers down and free his cock. The thought of him claiming your mouth sends a spark of desire through your body. A moan rolls up your throat and is muffled by his thumb.

Just when you’re starting to feel impatient, Astarion speaks. His voice is rough and coated in lust, “Look at me, look me in the eyes, my love.” He removes his thumb from your mouth.

When you open your eyes you’re greeted with his cock, so close to your face. Your mouth is open, wide, and wanting. You follow the path of his hips, his abdomen, his chest, to finally meet his eyes.

“If you obey my next command, I just might give you a treat.” Astarion tangles his fingers in your hair, he holds his cock with his free hand. You pull against his grip, trying to move closer — always closer — you want him. You need him.

His soft cock slides into your mouth with no resistance. You open wide for him, taking him as best you can. Like the good girl you are.

"Gods, that mouth of yours," Astarion whimpers. "It could destroy a man."

It has, you think but can't say. You whimper around his width. His fingers in your hair help guide your head to slowly bob along his length. He tastes like him. Like home. A taste that’s as sweet as every sin you’ve ever claimed and every crime you’ll ever commit.

Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. The heat in your core, your desire for him, deepens. You know he can smell it, your arousal. This is something you’ve done countless times before. He knows your limits. He knows how much of him you can take before it’s too much.

He groans softly, hips thrusting as he pushes deeper into your mouth. Until his cock is hard, and wet from your saliva. Until you can taste pre-cum as he bumps against the back of your throat.

“Forget yourself,” he groans. “Surrender your mind. Right now, you’re mine. All mine.”

Drool drips from your mouth, slides down your chin. You’re a mess, for him. His mess. His. All his.

I'm yours. I'm yours. I'm yours.

A particularly rough thrust and you gag around him. But it’s good. Delicious. Your jaw aches, but you want this. You need to please him.

You breathe when he allows you to, gasping with wide, teary eyes whenever his cock isn’t filling your mouth.

He's close. You can hear it in his moans, that familiar softness, the need for you.

He’s so fucking close.

You moan wantonly around his cock the next time he thrusts into you. You pay attention to your tongue, licking when you can — swirling when you find that spot that elicits the most debouched of moans from him.

"That feels -- hells, you feel so good," he chokes out.

You know his body just as well as you know your own, perhaps even better. It’s not long before he’s lost. Cock twitching in your mouth, thrusts losing their rhythm as he spills across your tongue and down your throat.

"Such a good girl. Gods. I love you." Astarion watches you with a reverent expression.

He untangles his fingers from your hair and stumbles slightly, staring down at you — his crimson eyes dark and hazy in the afterglow of his orgasm. You swallow, drinking down every last drop. Like the good girl you are.

Astarion’s body language is relaxed, but you can tell that something has changed. Your little confession earned you his full attention. He’s going to try to fuck you again, isn’t he?

Then you feel it, that familiar tug inside your mind. Your breath catches in your throat.

Is it true, what you said?

You nod.

I’d like to discuss this further with you if you’re interested?

You shrug.

Not the resounding ‘yes’ I was hoping for, darling.

Astarion leans back on one hand and takes a slow sip of wine from the goblet in his other hand.

It’s also not a ‘no.’

Astarion responds to something Karlach said. It earns him another laugh from the group. You’re still not focusing on the actual words being exchanged, you’re just watching Astarion.

Yes, well, now that I have all the information on your little . . . predicament. I’d like to try again.

There it is. Another man treating you like you’re a poor, broken thing that desperately needs him to be cured.

I don’t need you to fix me, Astarion.

You’re staring at him now, but he seems to be hardly paying you any attention. Even though he’s actively inside your mind.

Did I say I wanted to fix you? I only meant that I want to fuck you, dear.

You sigh.

I don’t know if that’s a good idea.

You shiver as phantom fingertips begin to trail, feather-light, up your inner thigh. Your mouth drops open and you inhale sharply. After only one night together, he knows exactly how to touch you.

Astarion is still in the middle of a conversation with the group while he teases you. How is he able to do this?

I only have good ideas. Just say the word and we can share another private moment.

His fingertips aren’t there, not really, and yet you feel them slide up and down your thigh. Every time his fingers move, they go farther and farther up — inching closer to where you really want them to be.

Maybe, Astarion. But when?

You shift in your seat, squirming as the invisible fingers slide to your other thigh — continuing to tease you with slow and gentle movements. You struggle to control your breathing, trying to focus now only on keeping your breath steady and slow so as to not raise any suspicions.

Now is as good a time as any.

Then he adds another hand. This time delicate fingers move down your neck, caress your shoulder, beneath your clothes and slowly brush over the swell of your breast. The fingers trace your curves, over and under.

You’re sitting rather stiffly now. The hair on the back of your neck stands at attention and goosebumps are scattered along your arms. If anyone were to look at you, they would surely know something is going on.

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Phantom fingers ghost up your spine. It's happening again. You hold your breath, trying to keep this little outburst to yourself. Maybe it will pass quickly.

Astarion had a stressful day of negotiations and the last thing you want to do is add to his frustrations.

But it does not pass quickly. Lips are on your chest, your shoulder, your neck -- a breath that is not really in the room pants heavily against your skin.

You feel sweat dripping down your neck and you're not sure if it's actually yours or not. It's not always this vivid.

Someone nips at your earlobe. Not yours. Theirs. But its your body. Yours. They're just using it.

It's the sensation of teeth tugging at your nipple that finally breaks you. A soft whimper escapes your lips.

"Little love, whatever could be the matter?" Astarion peers up at you from his throne. He studies your face -- you see the moment he realizes what's happening to you. His eyes darken.

Astarion pats his lap, beckoning you toward him. "It's that vile incubus again, isn't it?"

You nod, roll up onto your feet, and walk to him.

The phantom hands are relentless now, grabbing, and pulling at your skin. You lost count of how many people must be in the room with them. It's hard to think through the fog of desire that your mind has fallen into.

"How many this time?" he asks.

You swallow thickly and crawl onto Astarion's lap. "Many."

"Last time you became quite violent." Astarion's hands, warm, and familiar, slide up under the fabric of your clothing and settle on your hips.

"More now." Heat pools low in your belly. Inescapable desire. Astarion can sense it. You are bound to each other in ways beyond even your own comprehension. Beyond even Harleep's owning of your body.

"Shall I bind you?" Astarion asks.

"Yes," you manage to gasp out. You rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of him. Bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of brandy. So much has changed the last few months. His scent is one of the few things that have remained the same. You use it to ground yourself, to remain sane as the assault continues.

You hear the snap of his fingers. He is ordering some spawn to fetch the ropes.

A cold tongue flicks over your nipple, dull teeth bite down on your shoulder. You choke back a moan and allow your body, yours, to fall limp in Astarion's arms.

"That incubus will pay for what they are doing to you, my love. Soon they will learn that your body is mine, and mine alone -- not something to be shared," his voice is a low growl in your ear.

There's the shuffle of feet as someone approaches. No heartbeat. It's a spawn.

You don't look up from where you've rested your head. Your face tucked into the curve of Astarion's neck.

You squirm in his grasp as Astarion binds your wrists behind your back.

"How do the ropes feel? Not too tight?" Astarion asks.

You whimper as invisible fingers slide inside you. You strain against the ropes, wanting to lash out at the fingers and mouths that are not really there.

"It'll hold," you manage to say.

"Good," Astarion whispers. "Now, shall I distract you? Shall I remind you who you belong to?"

You breathe him in again as Astarion pulls you close to his chest. His hands are splayed across your back. His hands. He's here. He's got you. You're his.

This is the last place you should be.

He’s not the man you fell in love with. Not anymore. The Rite of Profane Ascension corrupted him — of course it did.

Seven thousand souls were sacrificed. Astarion gained all that power. Something like that doesn’t come without a price. His price was losing you.

You left him. You swore that he’d never see you again after the brain was defeated. And, yet, here you are merely a year later. Standing inside his palace. Waiting to lay your eyes on him one final time.

You were told to sit in a chair at the vast table that fills the middle of the room. You do not sit. Instead, you pace while you wait. You don’t keep track of the time. You don’t want to know how long it’s been since you arrived — how long you have left.

What you do know is that he’s here. He’s messing with your head, even now. This, the making you wait. It’s all part of a game.

That’s all anything is to him anymore. That’s all anyone is, just playthings to keep him entertained.

You’ve just about convinced yourself to leave when his voice stops you. Not his footsteps. His voice. You never even heard him approach, but he’s in the room.

“Well, look who came crawling back after all this time. Have a change of heart, my dear?” His voice has a pleasant lilt, but there’s a touch of vitriol just beneath the surface.

You spin on your heels. Your breath catches in your throat when you finally see him. His sharp features. Those familiar, but distant eyes. The smug look that mocks you now.

“No,” you say.

There was no change of heart. Even if you did want him to take you back, it wouldn’t matter. It’s far too late for that.

“If you’re here to beg for my help, I am more than delighted to tell you the answer is no.” Astarion takes a few strong strides toward you — then he pauses.

His body stiffens, just momentarily, before he slips back into a comfortable stance.

“Astarion . . .”

You forget what you were going to say. You’re too distracted by the way he’s staring at you now. There’s something in his eyes that you could mistake for concern if you didn’t know him better.

“What’s going on, Tav?” he asks.

Not a pet name. No more mocking tone. Just him. Your name coming from his lips sounds like home.

You don’t know what you expected. But it wasn’t this. You have to remind yourself that this isn’t him. This is the thing that stole his face. 

But does it even matter? Do you even care? You came all this way, after all. You know what you came for. You came for him.

One last rotten night.

Your voice shakes when you speak, “You can tell, can’t you?”

He nods stiffly and finally closes the distance between you. His eyes never leave your face. He’s searching for something there that you know he won’t find.

You didn’t want to tell him, not really. You didn’t want this hanging between you, but maybe this is better. Maybe this will make the inevitable easier to swallow.

“How long?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” You watch the muscles in his jaw work through your obvious lie. He is holding back his anger, and his frustration with you.

“Tell me how long you have left, Tav.”

“A day, maybe,” you say. “Maybe less.”

He reaches for you, a warm, gentle hand cupping your face. Warm. Another reminder of the man he isn’t.

You lean into his touch. You crave him. Despite everything, you are happy just to be near the visage of the man you loved. The man who, though he never said it, you know loved you.

You hold your breath.

Astarion seems to be holding his breath too. He’s warm. His heart beats. Everything has changed. The pad of his thumb gently brushes over your cheek. “I’ll fix this.”

You laugh. For the first time in a long time, you laugh and it’s genuine. “There is no fixing this, Astarion. I’m going to die.”

His hand moves down, fingers feather-light as they dance across your neck. Until he finds the place where he bit you the first time he fed.

There are no scars. There is nothing to remind either of you other than the memory alone.

“I’ll turn you,” he says.

There was a time when such words would have sent a chill up your spine. Not anymore. It’s too late for you. Even undeath won’t unwind your fate.

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You sit on your bedroll, staring deep into the campfire. Sometimes, if you sit still enough, you can feel the tadpole wriggling around in your brain. You wonder if you should have pressed on, but the sun set quickly after the pale elf joined your side. So you set up camp.

Astarion. He’s an interesting find. Maybe you’re a fool for letting him travel with you. He did hold a dagger to your throat.

Although . . .

A shiver rolls up your spine. Your skin prickles. You’re immediately aroused by the mere memory of him threatening you — the thought of him claiming you as his own.

You glance over your shoulder and watch Astarion for a moment as he struggles to set up his tent. You’d offer to help, but, well, no. You won’t offer to help. You turn back to the fire and let your mind wander.

Time seemed to slow when the sharp edge of his blade pressed against your throat. His body was so close to yours as you went tumbling backwards and crashing into the dirt. All you could think about was how the back of your head didn’t hit the ground — and how he held you. How he threatened you: his willing captive.

You tug at the collar of your shirt, suddenly finding the warmth of the fire practically unbearable. But your thoughts, they begin to drift again . . .

“What the hells are you doing?” you choked out. Your mouth went dry. You were certain that your face and chest were flushed red from anxiety — or, maybe, it was arousal. You swallowed thickly and tried to plan your escape. When was the last time someone held you or even touched you at all?

“Shh. Not a sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours,” he purred. The low timbre of his voice went straight to your cunt. You locked eyes with his. Crimson, dark, deep. A soft moan clawed its way up your throat and slipped past your lips. He didn’t say anything, but he heard it, you watched as his eyes darkened. Part of you hoped that he’d defile you right there — in the dirt where you met.

Heat pools between your legs. If only you could find some relief. There’s one thing that would help. You check behind you again. Astarion is still busy with his tent. Surely he wouldn’t notice if you . . .

You slip your hand beneath the hem of your pants. Your fingers travel lower, lower, lower. Only pausing when you’ve brushed over your clit. You bite your lip and shiver. Then you continue down until your fingers are low enough to dip between your lips.

You find exactly what you expected. You’re drenched. Just from a thought, just the idea of him — this stranger — pulling you to the ground, holding a dagger to your throat, and taking control of your body.

You sink two fingers into your cunt, down to the second knuckle. It’s almost agonizing, clenching around your own fingers while thinking about his. The dexterous hands of a rogue. He’d know exactly how to pleasure you — when to take and when to give.

You struggle to push your fingers in deeper without making too much of a scene. You grind the palm of your hand against your clit. Ugh. It’s not enough.

You bite back a whimper as you withdraw your fingers. You drag them back up through your slick folds until you find your clit again. Just once, you lie to yourself. Just one, tiny, stroke. You check over your shoulder. Astarion hasn’t noticed you pleasuring yourself yet — he’s busy. He doesn’t ever need to know.

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“Remind me why we had to return to this vile place?” Astarion gestured to the halls of the Arcane Tower with a flourish.

“Timmask Spores and Tongue of Madness. For Omeluum,” Naenia said. “I’m certain I saw some here. We won’t be long.”

“Mm. Right.” Astarion followed close behind her. “And why did you decide to drag me along and not the wizard?”

She glanced over her shoulder and flashed him a smile. “What? Maybe I just enjoy your company?”

Astarion scoffed. “There’s always an ulterior motive with you. Which, in all honesty, I respect.”

“No ulterior motive this time, Astarion. I just thought it would be more efficient with just the two of us.”

“A shame. And here I was hoping you were looking for an excuse to get me all to yourself,” he teased.

Naenia laughed softly and spun around to face him. “There are easier ways for me to get you alone, Astarion. Besides, if I wanted something from you I’d just ask.”

Astarion locked his eyes with hers and stepped forward, closing the gap between them. 

Naenia caught a glimpse of his fangs when he smiled. A perfectly composed smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Too perfect.

“Oh, but, darling, you do want something from me, don’t you?” Astarion stepped past her and Naenia’s body instinctively turned to continue facing him.

“What makes you think —”

He grabbed her hips and pushed her back, trapping her between his body and the cold wall.

“You can’t hide anything from me,” he purred. “Your heart gives you away. It’s always racing. In fact, it’s racing right now.”

Naenia stared up at him and licked her lips. “What could I possibly want from you?”

His grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into her flesh. “Have you already forgotten, dear? I’ve been privy to your fantasies. I know exactly what you want.”

“And what exactly is that?”

Astarion trailed gentle kisses along her jawline and down to her neck. Naenia tilted her head to offer him more space.

He laughed, lips ghosting against her skin. “You want to be well, and truly taken.”

Naenia choked back a moan, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled his body closer to hers. “We really shouldn’t linger here. The others will worry.”

“Ah, I doubt it.” Astarion nipped at her neck and dragged his fangs across her skin. “If we’re too long they’ll just assume you’re on your knees for me.”

“Other way around, darling,” Naenia teased. “Surely they’d know that it’s you on your knees for me.” Naenia tried to roll her hips, but his grip kept her tight against the wall. 

Astarion leaned back to meet her eyes. “I can be versatile. If that’s what you want?” He released his grip on her hips and in one quick, fluid motion he undid her pants. 

Naenia smirked. “Oh, can you now?”

He nodded and gracefully dropped to his knees. He tugged her pants down ever so slightly, exposing her hips and some of her stomach.

This view of him was positively exquisite. Naenia bit down on her lower lip and watched as he pressed a soft kiss to her hip.

Her heart thrummed quickly against her chest. She knew he could hear it and wondered how it made him feel. He was right, her heart seemed to do that every time she looked at him lately.

She sighed and let her head fall back against the wall. She didn’t have time to bother with feelings. Not hers. Especially not his.

She could let him bring her to ecstasy time and time again, but it would only make things worse. She was falling for him, and that was completely unacceptable. Naenia had no room in her heart for love.

“Astarion,” she whispered his name and stared up at the ceiling.

He kissed his way across her body and to her other hip. He was starting to tug her pants down even further when she made the decision to stop him.

She grabbed his chin and tilted his head up to look at her. “As much as we’d both enjoy this, I do think we should focus on the task at hand.”

Weak. Bringing him here, alone, of all things was a mistake. He made her weak. What had she been thinking?

“Are you sure?” Astarion asked.

Naenia nodded. “Yes.”

He didn’t mask the hurt in his eyes — but it almost didn’t look real. Before the hurt, she’d seen a flash of something else in his expression — frustration and then fear? Naenia wasn’t sure what that meant.

Astarion stood, tugging her pants back up as he did. “Very well. Another time, eh?” He buttoned her pants and then took a step back. “So, where are these mushrooms we need to find?”

Naenia took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. “They should be somewhere over —”

Her eyes scanned the room until she found what she was looking for. “Yes. Right there.”

Naenia steadied herself before she leaned away from the wall and walked toward the mushrooms. She reached for the Tongue of Madness when something caught her eye.

It was a mushroom the likes of which she’d never seen before. Naenia was familiar with many species, but this one — this one she didn’t recognize.

“What’s wrong?” Astarion asked.

“Nothing. It’s just —”

It was the most beautiful mushroom she’d ever seen. Completely captivating.

Purple and violet danced across the skin. The edges of the cap were stamped with gold. The colors twisted and shimmered — almost like it was calling out to her.”

“It’s just what?” Astarion asked. He stood right behind her, but his voice was so distant.

Naenia knew she shouldn’t touch the mushroom, but she couldn’t help herself. She leaned in closer to get a better look. The colors continued to swirl.

She reached out towards the mushroom and as soon as her fingers graced the skin she knew she’d made a mistake.

It exploded.

Spores from the unfamiliar mushroom burst up into her face, clouded her vision, and without thinking — she breathed them in.

The first thing she felt was fear.

The next thing she felt was a rush of warmth as the spores infiltrated her lungs. Heat branched out through her body, followed by a pleasant buzzing.

She hadn’t recognized the mushroom by sight. But now she recognized it by sensation. She’d heard others call it Saranae’s Kiss. A powerful, and often deadly aphrodisiac.

Naenia spun on her heels, grabbed Astarion, and covered his mouth and nose with her hand. Maybe she was fast enough. Maybe he would be spared.

He curled his fingers around her wrist in protest and tried to pull her away, but she held steady.

“Don’t breathe,” Naenia hissed.

Astarion’s eyes narrowed.

Then she felt that familiar squirm in her head as their tadpoles formed a connection.

What about you?

“It’s too late for me,” Naenia said.

His concern was touching, if, a bit out of place. Her feelings for him ran deep, but she’d never admit that. And if he felt the same, he kept that to himself as well.

What was it?

She heard his question in her head but ignored it. Just another minute and the spores should settle and then —

Gods. Her skin burned. No, not just her skin, but everything just beneath it. That pleasant buzzing sensation had been replaced with more heat and the temperature was rapidly rising.

A fever was settling in. That shouldn’t happen this fast. She should have had more time.

But Astarion. He felt nice. Cold even. She leaned against him and got as close as she could with her hand still covering his mouth.

It wasn’t enough. Naenia stood on her tiptoes and pressed her forehead against his. She sighed and closed her eyes. His cold skin brought much-needed relief. She would kiss him if she didn’t have her hand firmly clasped against his mouth.

Ahem. Do you mind?

“Hm? What?” Naenia slowly opened her eyes.

I know I don’t need to breathe, but this is still unpleasant.

Too close. She was too close.

Naenia pulled away from him and looked around one final time to make sure the spores had dissipated. Once satisfied, she removed her hand from his face and took two steps back.

“Well? What was that?” Astarion asked.

Gods. He was just so beautiful, wasn’t he? She could admire him for hours. His angular features took her breath away, especially in the dim light of this tower.

Why had she told him to stop earlier? That was stupid. She imagined pushing him onto the floor and straddling him. She could use his body to chase her pleasure. Rutting against his thigh like a bitch in heat.

Was he still in her head? Could he hear all that? She tried to check, but her control over herself was weak. She couldn’t tell.

“Naenia. I asked you a question.”

Had he? Naenia couldn’t remember. She was too busy drifting into the memory of the night they’d shared. One night of life-changing sex. Now she wanted to beg him for more. He’d like that, wouldn’t he? He liked it when she begged.

“Naenia.” Her name was a warning. Astarion’s voice was sharp, pointed, angry.

Angry? Why was he angry? What had she done? She didn’t know. But she could make him happy. She knew how to do that. She was good at that.

Naenia brushed her hair to the side and tilted her head, exposing her neck to him. Surely he wouldn’t be angry if he was well-fed.

His eyes flitted to her neck, only momentarily before locking onto hers. She’d hoped for a bigger reaction.

“What’s happening to you?” he asked.

Oh. The mushroom. The spores. Poison. Oh, right. This was bad.

Her stomach lurched. For a second she was back in her body. Then she slipped back into her fantasies.

Naenia stepped closer to him. In a daze, she stroked his jawline with the back of her hand.

He snatched her wrist and pinned it to her side. That’s fine. She had two hands.

Her other hand tugged at the bottom of his shirt, loosening it so she could feel the cool skin hidden beneath the fabric.

That didn’t last long. Astarion grabbed that hand and pinned it to her side as well.

“Something is very, very wrong with you, darling,” Astarion said. “I need you to tell me what to do.” His voice remained even, low. She was used to flirting, a playful lilt. This was serious. The danger was real.

The fear in his eyes was enough to snap her out of the fog, at least for a moment. But escaping the fog came with a cost.

A sharp pain drove through her stomach. Ice cut through the fire that was burning her from the inside. Her body’s way of demanding she succumb to her desires.

“It’s the spores,” she said. “Do you feel any different?”

“Obviously it’s the spores. I’m not an idiot,” Astarion said. “I’m fine. Tell me what’s happening to you.”

Another wave of pain, this round nearly doubled her over. Astarion released her wrists and placed a hand on her hip and another on her shoulder to help her remain steady.

“I’ll get you to camp. Shadowheart, or Gale, they’ll be able to help.” There was a hint of disgust in his voice when he said Gale’s name.

Naenia shook her head. “No. There’s nothing they can do. What happens next — I don’t want them to see.”

“And what is it that happens next?” Astarion asked.

“The spores were toxic. An aphrodisiac. Incredibly rare. Fun at large parties in very small doses. Exploding in your face — well, I will spend the next few hours feverish, delusional, and insatiable. Orgasms will keep me alive.”

“I’m taking you to camp,” Astarion growled.

Desperation. Fear. Panic. “No. Please, Astarion. Please. I don’t want the others to see me like this. They’ll lose all respect for me.”

“That must be the delusions speaking, darling. We both know they lost all respect for you the night you came crawling to my bedroll.” Astarion started walking her toward the exit.

“Hilarious,” Naenia said. She didn’t have the energy for their usual banter. “Just tie me up here and leave me. I’ll get through this.”

“I’m not leaving you, Naenia. We’re going back to camp. Both of us,” Astarion said.

“Fine,” Naenia whimpered. Maybe it was the right decision.

She thought of her companions waiting at camp. Heat pooled between her legs. Yes, yes, camp was the right choice. Surely one of them would help bring her temperature down.

“Do you think Gale would fuck me?” Naenia asked, almost absentmindedly.

She was starting to drift again. Losing her mind to the desire burning under her skin.

“What?” Astarion growled.

“I know Lae’zel won’t. She would have, but she sees me as tainted after I let you have me. I’m certain Shadowheart is a good kisser, but I don’t think she’d fuck me. Not while I’m in this state. But, Gale. I might be able to convince him to fuck me. A pity fuck.”

“Is that what you want, Naenia? Do you want Gale to fuck you?” He sounded so angry again. Naenia liked that. Maybe he’d punish her.

“Would it make you jealous?” she asked.

“No.”

Naenia placed her hand on his chest and curled her fingers around the fabric of his shirt. “Then why did we stop walking?”

“I didn’t . . . We . . . Fine. We’ll stay here.”

“Thank you. Thank you,” she mumbled. Her vision started to swim. Her legs threatened to give out.

Astarion held her upright and shifted to look her directly in the eyes. She struggled to hold eye contact.

“Naenia. Stay with me. I need to know how bad this is going to get. You said orgasms will keep you alive. Will you need my help?”

Naenia tried to kiss him, but he leaned away from her. “Need. Want. Need. Want. Maybe, maybe not,” she mumbled incoherently.

Astarion sighed. “There was a bed. We’ll get you there.”

Then, her legs did give out. Astarion scooped her up with an amount of ease that surprised her. She threw her arms around his neck. “You would fuck me, right?”

“If that’s what you want.” Even through the fog, she could tell he didn’t sound like himself. It made her stomach hurt.

“Don’t want to die,” she whispered.

“You won’t die. I won’t let you,” Astarion said.

Then she blacked out.

***

Naenia came to her senses in a dusty bed, with one hand tied to the bedpost. She’d been stripped down to her underwear, which had been pushed halfway down her thighs. The hand that wasn’t tied to the bed was lying limp between her legs.

She had clearly been masturbating. Sweat clung to her body, her thighs were slick and sticky with desire.

Her limbs were heavy, her skin still burned. She had only vague memories of being dropped onto the bed, begging Astarion to tie her up — and then violent orgasms crashing over her. Pleasure and pain so tightly intertwined.

How long had it been since her last climax? Heat coiled up in her core like a snake prepared to strike. An unbearable tension.

Her fever was rising once again. She inhaled sharply and braced herself to continue. She found her clit with two fingers, but the moment she made contact she wretched and her body shuddered.

Oversensitive. Swollen. Wet. So fucking wet.

She managed a few slow, light circles around her clit, but it was too much. It hurt. Her hand was too hot. Her entire body was too hot.

Her underwear should come off. Yes. Yes, that would help. She began to squirm, trying to push her underwear off the rest of the way. She turned her head and caught a glimpse of Astarion.

How had she forgotten he was there? Just sitting in a chair just a few feet from the bed. Staring down at the floor. He should be so much closer. She needed him to be closer.

His fingers. Fuck. His fingers would feel so good against her clit, inside her. He was the solution.

“Astarion.” His name fell from her lips like a prayer. “I need your help.”

“What do you need?” Astarion asked. His voice low. On edge.

“I’m too hot. My underwear. I need them off. Please,” Naenia said with a whimper.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers. Something was wrong.

He shouldn’t be here. What had she been thinking? Asking him to watch over her like this? Selfish.

She pushed back against her desires and the shard of ice in her stomach lashed out, twisting, causing the most intense pain she’d ever felt in her life.

“Astarion. If this is —”

She whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. Her heart beat out of control. She inhaled sharply and then tried to speak again. “If this is too much. You can go.”

It felt like an eternity before he spoke.

Naenia’s body moved, part of her trying to adjust to the pain — the other part trying to lure her back into the haze.

“It gets worse when you fight it, doesn’t it?” Astarion asked.

Naenia nodded. She struggled to remain lucid.

“Sex would help, yes?” Astarion asked.

Yes. Her body was furious. She didn’t just need sex, her body demanded it.

The pain was too much. She couldn’t get the words out. She could only nod.

Astarion could ease the stress, soothe her fever, and save her life. But knowing his past, how could she ask that of him?

For the first time in a long time, she felt true fear. She needed to orgasm to keep the fever down, but she couldn’t do it herself. It was all too much. She would certainly die if he didn’t help her.

“Do you need me?” Astarion asked.

Yes, please, Gods, yes. I need you, Astarion. Please. I want you to. But only if you want to. Only if it won’t hurt you. But those words wouldn’t come. Instead, all she managed was a small whimper and a final nod.

Astarion stood and walked to the edge of the bed. A thrill ran up her spine at the image of him towering over her.

“Touch yourself for me, Naenia.”

She swallowed thickly and stared up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “I’m so hot. My underwear. Take them off me, please.”

“You know that’s not why you’re hot, darling. Do this for me, and then I’ll help you. Understand?” He crouched down beside the bed and positioned his face just inches from hers. She squirmed, unable to move closer to him with her wrist tied to the bed.

Naenia sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and began running small circles around her clit.

“That’s it. That’s a good girl,” Astarion purred.

It didn’t take much to bring her to the cusp of another orgasm. Her toes curled, her muscles tensed as she leaned over the edge — and then her fingers stopped moving. “I can’t,” she whimpered. “I can’t do it.”

“Yes. Yes, you can. Let go. Come for me,” Astarion demanded.

She ground her teeth, threw her head back, and circled her swollen clit again — harder this time.

Her ministrations pulled a soft sob from her throat. She whimpered and squirmed. “I can’t.”

Then Astarion captured her mouth in a kiss so sweet and soft it made her head spin. The feel of him sent electric sparks across her body. Enough to help her over the edge.

She moaned up into his mouth. Her back arched and her body shook as she found her release. “F-fuck. Gods. Fuck. It hurts,” she whimpered.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Astarion whispered against her mouth. “You’re doing so good.”

When the orgasm passed she noted how much cooler she felt. How much easier it was to think.

She sank into the bed, exhausted. “H-how long before I have to go again?”

“Not long. I do believe you’re through the worst of it though,” Astarion said.

She took a deep breath and turned to meet his eyes. “I can’t do it myself anymore, Astarion. Please help me.”

“I will. I just need to know you’re okay with this. That it isn’t the poison talking.”

“I’m okay. I trust you. Just take care of me, please.” Naenia felt her mind start to slip again. Whether or not that was the truth was irrelevant. She just hoped it was enough to convince him.

“Okay,” Astarion said.

He wouldn’t meet her eyes anymore. He pulled her underwear off her body and dropped it to the floor. Then he crawled onto the bed, the old mattress groaned under his weight.

“Untie me?” Naenia asked.

He nodded and leaned across her to undo the fabric holding her wrist to the bed.

Naenia shifted on the bed, positioning herself directly underneath him. “Kiss me again, please? Like before?”

His lips found hers with saccharine reverence. Naenia wasn’t used to kisses that were so kind, gentle.

All the times she’d given into her most base desires had been rough, unforgiving — detached. She thought she preferred it that way. But this, this was nice.

Her body remained mostly limp, exhausted as they kissed. While the contact brought some relief, she could feel the heat twisting in her core again — demanding more.

“Astarion,” she whispered his name between kisses.

“I know. The fever’s returning,” he said.

She felt complete panic when he pulled away from her. He must have seen the panic in her eyes because he pressed his hands to her skin as he moved toward the foot of the bed.

“I’m not going anywhere. Just breathe,” he reassured her.

Naenia melted back into the mattress and closed her eyes. He dragged his hands along her sides, squeezed her hips, and then settled himself between her legs.

She watched with rapt attention as he placed one hand on her stomach to pin her to the bed.

“Ready, darling?” Astarion murmured. His other hand settled at the apex of her thighs.

Naenia nodded. Every time he lay his hands on her brought relief. She needed this.

He slid two fingers through her slick and entered her weeping cunt.

“Gods. Oh —”

Naenia panted, her chest heaving as the intrusion pulled a strangled moan from her throat. He was pure relief, but it wasn’t enough.

“That’s a good girl,” Astarion cooed.

As if sensing her need he slid a third finger in and curled them. He worked his fingers in and out of her in slow, thoughtful motions.

Her breaths came in ragged, hot bursts as she drew closer to another orgasm. Her clit throbbed and begged for attention. She used what little strength she had left, groaning as she found her clit with two fingers.

Astarion pulled out of her. Fear. She began to reach for his hand. He couldn’t stop. It would hurt if he stopped. “Please —”

“Hush, dear. Let me take care of you,” he murmured. He kissed her stomach before he settled further down on the mattress and nestled his face between her thighs.

“Oh —”

Naenia moaned and rolled her hips up against his face. He licked up through her slit, tongue teasing her entrance before moving up and settling on her clit. He found the perfect pace -- sucking and licking — pulling her right up to the edge.

Then his fingers entered her again. No warning this time. She cried out, back arching as bliss and agony danced over every inch of her worn-out body.

She carded her fingers through Astarion’s hair and felt him moan against her cunt. “I’m close,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop.”

She ran her fingers through his hair again. This was normally when she would grab, pull, demand — but not this time. Now she just wanted to feel him. Her heart ached in an unfamiliar way.

Her orgasm claimed her. Unforgiving. Her expression twisted into one of agony, her body shook and trembled with desperate ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure and pain crashed over her.

Astarion continued his work with absolute devotion. He carried her through not one, not two, not three —

Naenia lost count after three orgasms. Tears welled in her eyes and burned as they rolled down her face. “Please —”

Please stop. Is what she wanted to say. But somewhere, the logical side of her knew he couldn’t. Her fever hadn’t broken. The more times he brought her to the edge and sent her crashing over the safer she would be.

Finally, when Naenia knew she could take no more — he stopped to look up at her. She met his eyes, dizzy and disoriented. His chin and lips were wet with her slick.

“One more, Naenia. I need you to come again for me.” He curled his fingers again.

“No,” she whimpered. “Please. No. I can’t. Please.”

He pushed his fingers deeper inside of her and continued his slow, agonizing rhythm.

“Yes. You can and you will,” he murmured.

Naenia shook her head, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. “It’s too much. It’s all too much.”

She tried to squirm away from him, but he kept her pressed against the mattress. She was too weak to fight him.

“Please. Please, no more. I can’t. I don’t want to —”

Pain flashed across his face. True pain. “I’m sorry,” Astarion murmured before his mouth found her clit again.

Naenia thought she’d experienced the most violent orgasm of her life earlier in the night. She was wrong.

This one shook her to her core. Blinded her. She came screaming his name, clenched around his fingers. Her body twitched and spasmed. Ecstasy and agony battled for superiority.

Then, for the second time that night, she blacked out.

***

This time, when Naenia came to she was still naked, sweaty — but she was being held tight in Astarion’s arms. His fingers traced lazy circles on her shoulder.

“Astarion.” She stumbled over his name. Her throat raw from screaming, body still so fucking weak. Her mind though, at least that was clear.

She turned her head and met his eyes. He was watching her with so much concern. It felt — strange. “I need water,” she rasped.

He pressed a kiss to her temple and slipped her out of his arms. If she wasn’t so tired, she might have found it odd that he was still fully clothed after everything.

He found his bag and dug out water for her. She had just enough energy to take it from him. She downed a few slow, careful sips and then handed it back. That’s when she noticed his erection straining against his pants.

“Ah, that. Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he said. Astarion put the water down on the floor. “It should resolve itself soon.”

“Fuck me,” she whispered. Naenia didn’t want to come again. But she wanted to feel him. Needed him inside her.

Astarion furrowed his brow. “Your fever is gone. Do you still —”

“I’m fine,” Naenia whispered. “I’m me. I just want to feel you.”

She watched with quiet approval as he removed his pants and underwear, freeing his cock. His shirt stayed on as he crawled over her.

He pressed a kiss to her stomach, her chest, and the top of her breast before nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

“Are you sure?” Astarion whispered into her ear.

Naenia nodded. “I want to. Do you want to?”

“Yes.” Astarion ghosted kisses across her neck as his hips settled over hers.

“Astarion?” she whispered his name shyly. So unlike her.

“Yes?” He kissed her jaw and then pressed himself up to meet her eyes.

“Will you kiss me? Like you did before.” She trembled with anticipation, heart racing. Only calming when his lips met hers. He captivated her with practiced kisses so calm, and sweet.

“Fuck me, Astarion,” she pleaded.

He obliged. His cock entered her slowly, stretching her out in the most delicious way.

Astarion moaned into her mouth as he set a slow, languid pace. “Is this okay?” he whispered.

“Yes. Yes. It’s perfect,” she hummed.

She placed her hands on either side of his face, cradling him as gently as he had held her before.

Naenia didn’t do gentle sex. So, that on its own was a strange sensation. But even stranger than that was getting fucked and not chasing her own release.

She couldn’t come again, even if she wanted to. All she could do was feel him, inside her, on top of her — and breathe him in.

It almost made the agony worth it. She wondered if she’d ever experience anything like this again.

Astarion nipped at her lower lip and pressed a final kiss to her lips. “Naenia. I’m close. Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” she whispered, letting her hands fall away from his face.

The pace quickened, and then his hips stuttered. Astarion pressed his face into the crook of her neck. Almost instinctively she wrapped her arms around him, holding him so close as he found his release inside her.

He groaned against her hot skin. She loosely ran her fingers through his hair, cradling the back of his head. There was that unfamiliar ache again in her chest. She didn’t like that feeling, but she liked this.

Slow movements. He pulled out and collapsed on his side next to her. Naenia turned her head to study him.

Naenia often found people easy to read, but not him. Astarion kept so much hidden behind that mask of his. It rarely broke, and when it did, she could only catch glimpses of truths she couldn’t quite understand.

What Naenia said next. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “Is this what people in love feel like all the time?”

Astarion studied her face. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Me neither.”