#piperford

Personal preference: writing what turns you on

This is pretty much the #1 rule I follow when I’m writing any smut: I write it in a way that I personally enjoy reading it. 

I know that might sound obvious, but different people focus on different things when they write smut. Some focus on the down-and-dirty body positions, some people write it in an indirect way that focuses on feelings while having you infer the bodily acts, and some people do a combination of both. Figure out what you like to focus on when reading it, and write what like to read.

Similarly, the particular word use and phrasings that people use depends on their style of smut and personal preferences. For instance, I never use the word ‘cunt’ because in North America, it’s a really vile-sounding word, but I know a lot of people who feel that way about the word ‘pussy’, which I personally prefer to use. You may also prefer to avoid direct references to anatomy entirely, using euphemisms like ‘her slickness’ or ‘her fragrant heat’ instead when you’re talking about a vagina. 

Overall, when you’re thinking of how to describe the acts of fingering and oral, think about the phrases you’ve enjoyed when reading these acts, and use phrasings that turn you on. In a nutshell, write what sounds good to you. 

Writing in-character for the people involved

As well as using phrases that I personally like, I always try to use language and phrasing that’s consistent with the POV of the character who is “narrating” the sex act. As an example, I’m going to consider @schoute’s boys, Cullen Rutherford and Raleigh Samson from Dragon Age, since they’re VERY different in the smut I’ve written for them. 😂 

Let’s consider Cullen. He’s got good manners, is very gentlemanly, the romance is a sweet slow burn and doesn’t jump straight into the lusty stuff. And YES, Cullen can be an assertive lion in the sack, but that’s not generally his default persona in the canon romance scenes. 

Given all of this, we headcanon that Cullen NEVER says the word ‘cock’ because it’s too vulgar and his momma raised him right, LOL. So in all of the smut I’ve ever written for him, he never thinks or says the word ‘cock’ — or if he does, it’s like. Once in blue moon when he’s been goaded into a dominant mood. I also never use the word ‘pussy’ when writing Cullen smut because it feels too vulgar for Cullen, and even when Cullen is in his most horny moods, his sex is always very tender. 

An example line from some Cullen/Piper Lavellan smut:

Cullen’s manhood throbbed in response to her pleasured sounds. He lifted his hips by instinct, but Piper’s hips were still moving and pressing her swollen nub toward his tongue, and Cullen forced himself to focus on the sharpness of her breathing and her secret scent as she rocked herself toward his mouth.

Please note the lack of cock, pussy, or fuck in this sequence. 😂

Samson, on the other hand: OKAY, THIS IS ENTIRELY ME AND SCHOUTE’S HEADCANONS since there is no canon romance, but we imagine him to be a lot less genteel, a lot more vulgar from his years scraping by in Lowtown. He can be quite dirty, and in our fic for Samson and Roman Hawke, he basically matches her hard-and-furious style of fucking, so his smut is liberally sprinkled with all the bad words: fuck, cock, pussy, all of it. An example line from a chapter of Samson/Roman smut: 

He tipped her chin back. “I’ll bury my face in your pussy and lick you until you’re begging me to fuck you,” he growled.

Please note the very obvious presence of pussy and fuck in this one single line. 😂😂😂 

And there you have it! A very short mini-tutorial on writing fingering and oral sex. In a nutshell, I try to pay special attention to the way I phrase and describe these acts, and I write them in a way that a) turns me on and b) is consistent with the POV of the character who is “narrating” the scene. And really, if you still aren’t sure how to write these acts, my advice would be to read more of them! Read more examples of oral sex and fingering to figure out what you like when reading it, and use these examples as inspiration for yourself (without plagiarizing, of course). 

Feel free to reach out if you have more questions! 

8 o’clock. Stop by. Don't be late. 

The small card, folded and simply placed in front of a cupcake on her desk, had been to the point. Piper hadn't needed to wonder who it was from. Cullen's script was easily recognizable to her by then, though the absence of a ‘Happy Birthday’ was odd - not to mention, the absence of him at the office. Piper's mind had immediately gone to the obvious: surprise party. Why else would he have been absent from work, or be so vague about exactly what would be happening at his place at exactly 8 o'clock that night? 

The night came slowly, the day dragging by little by little as Piper impatiently checked the clock every two minutes as if time would have suddenly sped forward. She headed to Cullen's apartment from hers, having stopped to change and stare at the clock some more. At first glance, nothing seemed amiss. The lights glowing from his curtained windows were low, but she heard no sound of people chatting, no extra cars in the lot that seemed out of place. As Piper knocked on the door, she squinted in suspicion as she heard a bit of heavy shuffling, then nothing. 

Knock knock knock. 

She rapped her knuckles on the door once more, again waiting with no response. Reaching down, Piper tried the handle and smirked when she found it turned easily. She opened the door, walking in, only to find an empty living room. 

“Cuuuullen?” She playfully called out his name as she closed and instinctively locked the front door behind her. As she began stepping on the heels of her shoes to remove them, her body froze as the lights suddenly went out. Candles she hadn't noticed before, carefully stuck in a small cake on the kitchen counter, dimly lit the now dark apartment to her right. She walked over to the counter, observing the icing that read ‘Happy Birthday, Piper’ in a perfect script that in no way could have been written by Cullen. 

“Happy Birthday, Piper.” Cullen's warm voice echoed the cake’s sentiments from behind her. She spun around, smirking as she found him approaching her with a cheeky grin on his face. 

“I almost thought you'd have a bunch of people jumping out to scare me when I got here,” Piper said. She rested her arms over his shoulders as he placed his hands on her waist, pulling her close to kiss her. 

“Disappointed it's only me?” Cullen teased against her lips. Piper laughed, shaking her head once they finished their kiss. 

“Just as long as you didn't make that cake yourself,” she joked, recalling with bitter fondness the last time Cullen had attempted to bake anything. 

“No, I allowed that bakery on twenty-third to do the honors this time,” he chuckled. Cullen wrapped his arms around Piper as she turned her back to him to take another look at the cake. 

“Oh? Where's my real present, then?” Piper could feel her heart speed up as Cullen pressed his lips gently to her ear. 

“Why don't you blow out your candles and find out?” He whispered soothingly. Cullen loosened his hold on Piper as she leaned forward, his hand moving to gently rest on her lower back. Piper took a moment, thinking over what she should wish for before she took a deep breath and blew out the candles. 

The room became engulfed in darkness as the candles were snuffed, only a low glow of light from the crack at the bottom of the bedroom door offering any help. Even that bit of light was taken from her as Piper felt something being pulled over her eyes. 

“What's this?” Piper purred with a grin as Cullen tied the blindfold tightly at the back of her head. 

“Your first gift,” he said smoothly, and Piper could have sworn she could hear the smirk on his lips.

Cullen's arms wrapped around her again, pulling her back against his front. He had done a good job with the blindfold - Piper found herself unable to make out anything around them, relying heavily on any sounds or the way Cullen shifted. They stood in place, and Piper listened carefully in anticipation as she heard Cullen messing with something on the counter with one hand as his arm held her close. 

“Open your mouth,” he instructed with a low, quiet voice that hid none of his sultry. Piper grinned as she obeyed, anticipating a metal fork with a bit of her birthday cake. When it met her lips there was no metal, though. Only the sweet taste of chocolate frosting, and Cullen's finger as the vessel. 

Piper hummed as her lips wrapped around his finger. She could feel his breath deepen as she swirled her tongue around him, trying to lick as much clean as possible before he withdrew it. She left her mouth hanging open in anticipation of an encore, and Cullen didn't leave her disappointed. Rich, velvety frosting adorned his finger each time, and Piper could feel how Cullen's grip on her tightened with each lap of her tongue, how his cock twitched against her lower back every time she seductively closed her lips around him. As her mouth hung open for more, Piper waited, finally closing it as Cullen's arm left her and he took her hand. 

“Allow me to lead you to gift number two,” he said. 

“Lead the way, partner,” she said with a grin. 

The click of the door as it opened was her indication that he was leading her to the bedroom. Piper was entirely certain at this point that no one else would be involved in this birthday celebration - and she couldn't deny, she wasn't at all disappointed. Piper sat at the end of the bed as Cullen helped her find it. His hand gently pushed at her shoulder, guiding her to lie on her back. 

“Sooo, this gift of yours…” She spoke slowly. She could feel his hands on her shorts, how he was obviously trying to pace himself and not take her clothes off too quickly, and failing miserably. 

“I may not be able to read your mind to know what you wished for, but I do pride myself in knowing what you like,” Cullen said. Piper grinned widely as he hooked his fingers at the hem of her shorts and panties, pulling them down to her feet before gently placing them to the side. 

“Oh? And what's that?” She asked cheekily. Piper gasped as she felt Cullen's warm tongue run slowly along her seam. Her hands instinctively reached for his head, only to come up empty as he leaned back. He chuckled as he skated his hands along her legs, moving to her knees and pulling them gently apart. When his mouth met her folds again, Piper didn't waste time gripping those golden locks of his. A long, moaning sigh left her lips as he lapped at her with his tongue. She could feel him humming against her, thoroughly enjoying the gift he was giving her as much as she was enjoying receiving it. 

“Gods, Cullen.” Piper moaned as Cullen swirled his tongue around her clit. Long and plentiful were the nights that Cullen had spent, carefully honing his skill and learning exactly what Piper liked, and he now had it down to a T. His fingers bit at her bottom, digging in to hold her in place as her hips rocked against his face of their own accord. Her legs rested over his shoulders, thighs flexing over and over as he flicked and rolled his tongue against her. 

“Oh, Cullen, yes, right - Gods, right there.” Words left her in throaty gasps. She could feel her abdomen, her whole body tightening as his tongue refused to ease up even for a moment. The hand he had used to deliver sweet frosting to her mouth before remained on her bottom, squeezing dutifully as his left hand left her. It was only gone for a moment before it returned. Two fingers slipped under his chin to run along her quim, coating in her slick before sliding into her. Piper moaned loudly as he filled her with the two, thick fingers. Cullen slowly thrusted them in and out of her, curling them upwards against her to rub against the inside of her in the most delicious way. 

Oh, it was almost unfair how good it felt. Piper wanted this feeling to last forever, to ride her bliss forever and ever at the mercy of his tongue and fingers. Even with the blindfold on, she could see what he was doing in her mind, knew the intense way his eyes watched her the closer she got to her end. Her fingers tightened their hold in his hair, gripping his locks with hearty fists as she popped. Piper's back arched wildly, her mouth hanging open as loud cries of pleasure left her throat in the guise of his sweet name. Cullen refused to let up, carrying her through her orgasm until she was left shaking and panting in nothing but her shirt. 

Piper's hands slipped from Cullen's head as his tongue and fingers finally slowed to a halt. Her feet hit the floor as he slipped away, leaving her only to the sound of her heavy breaths and his hums of approval as he didn't bother to hide the sound of him cleaning her slick from his fingers. 

“Happy Birthday to me,” Piper breathed at least, smiling widely as she bathed in her bliss on the bed. Cullen chuckled, and she could hear the sound of him shuffling about, the distinct noise of his belt hitting the floor. 

They went outside where he had set up the training dummies the days before along the side of their home. They lived in the outskirts of South Reach, near enough to his siblings, yet isolated enough so that they had some privacy. Since the day they moved Piper wanted him to teach her one handed techniques with a sword. Perhaps before that even, but he needed time to prepare and time to install the training equipment. He promised he would because he would promise her anything, but he was still apprehensive as he handed her the starting rapier.

He was right to be apprehensive. She took the rapier, and frowned.

“Cullen, give me a sword like yours,” she said, attempting to hand it back to him.

“This is for starting out,” he replied.

Reason wasn’t in her terms that day. She demanded a larger, broad sword, but Cullen remained unmoved.

“You have to walk before you fly.”

“I did fly! Cullen—”

“Piper, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

She shook her head, apologized. She sighed deeply, telling him she understood. “Show me what you know,” she asked of him.

“Come here.”

She held an upright position, fit for an archer but not a swordswoman. He held her body to begin, positioned her and guiding her steps. He moved her about in an invisible duel, instructing her how to move her hand, how she may parry a blow.

“This is how we learned in the chantry,” he reminisced, “The instructor would come around, show us where to stand and how to hold a sword. Shields came later, then actually moving and sparring after that.”

“We’re going to spar much sooner than that.”

He understood, yet still he was unmoved. “Piper—"

“I have to be able to protect Cullen!”

She spun around, tossing the sword on the ground. “Don’t you understand?” she asked, “This is all I know.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” she insisted. “All I’ve done is protect people. In Clan Lavellan, I was a hunter and made sure we were alright. It was the exact same thing in the Inquisition. It’s all I am or ever will be and now that’s taken away—”

“It’s not,” Cullen promised. “Piper, you’re worth is—”

“That’s why I have to learn,” she said, looking to their feet. “You have to teach me.”

“Val Royeaux wasn’t built in a day.”

She repeated the oft repeated phrase, “it has to be now. You must teach me now.” He set his sword aside, took a string of Piper’s white hair and tucked it behind her pointed ear. Any other time such a gesture would have been welcomed. A rain of kisses would have followed, her pinning him to the wall. A rain of kisses, and maybe more.

Not today. He would have considered himself lucky if he got one smile

“I will teach you,” Cullen said, still holding on. “But Piper, please don’t think that this is all the good you ever were. You’re more than your skill with a bow, more than what you lost.”

“That’s not true,” she said, and she had begun to cry. “My skill with a bow was sometimes all I had. If I can’t protect people, if I can’t save anyone anymore…then what good am I?”

“You didn’t need a bow to save me.”

She fell into his arms. Her tears wet his shirt. He didn’t remember her crying at all since the Exalted Council. He hated her tears, yet knew they needed to happen. He was glad he was there for her.

He needed to cry to, he realized as a tear fell from his cheek. How easily exactly, could he have lost her? How much relief did he have, joy, when he found out he didn’t, and they would have that life that they promised together?

“Cullen,” Piper said, standing on her tiptoes and wiping the tears away with the pads of her fingers. “You can’t cry too.”

“I almost lost you.”

He cradled her, back and forth, observed the pliancy of her limber and sinewy body against his. In his haziest daydreams he had the thought that the Maker made them so they could fit together, but that couldn’t be true. The truth of the matter, and one that was far more romantic—was that they learned to fit together.

They kissed, exchanged heated breaths, and it was dizzy and dancing. She led him to the wall. “There she is,” Cullen whispered as she nipped at his neck, made him even dizzier, made him want to dance longer. “There’s Rowdy.”

She chuckled into their kiss, not hearing that name since the Exalted Council. It was Varric’s nickname for her, Rowdy Piper Lavellan. He had more names for her he wanted to give, and so did she. It had been a while, a long time, Cullen whispered as she led him back to their room, and she tossed him to the bed. It thrilled him when she climbed atop him, grinded against him. Rowdy really was back.

“Piper,” he rasped, “let me…”

“Let me.”

“Let me welcome you back.”

He laid her gently on the bed. They helped each other take off their clothes, and when they were bare, sun spilling through an open window, he began his reverence. He kissed every part of her face, her neck, relished the soft moans she made as he did. His fingers drifted between her thighs as she mewled, impatient, and he himself rubbed against her thigh to somewhat abate himself. He teased her clit as his warm open mouth kissed between her breasts. He traveled to her right shoulder, skimmed his lips down her arm. She twitched underneath him as his fingers pressed harder, moved in circular motions. She came, and he took her hand in his, cradled it, kissed every fingertip.

She froze when he kissed down her other arm.

“No,” she said. “Cullen—”

“I love you.”

“I’m not—”

“I love you.”

She wept again. He stopped his ministrations, resting against her, shifting so he wouldn’t hurt her with his weight atop her. He kissed away the tears. “I thought you were back,” he whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“Every time I feel like myself, I remember. I can’t—”

“You save me every day.”

“Every day?” she asked, voice cracking, tears still streaming.

“Every day.”

“Lay down for me.”

He was pushed to his back. She climbed astride him, let the warmth of her folds envelope him. She moved like that, coating him in her arousal, and though he wasn’t inside her yet, it was welcoming warm exquisiteness as his head rolled back against the pillow. Her nails were against his forearms. His body shivered. She coaxed, teased, as she shifted against him and prolonged the before. He opened his eyes. He saw beautiful her.

She undid her hair. The curls fell and kissed her shoulders. She grinned wickedly at him, more than aware of how spellbound she made him, his wicked, wicked woman. She leaned down. The tip of her tongue glided against the corner of his mouth. The kiss she gave was deep and sweet.

“Ride me,” he breathed.

“Cullen. You’re going to have to hold me.”

She rose, then he rose, and they began to learn together. It was something they had been doing since they met, but they found that that time, making love was neither different nor foreign from before. There was an edge to it, an exquisite sweetness in the way she moved, her arm wrapping around his neck, and his hands leveraging her as she sank on top of his cock. So sweet because it had been a while—their wedding night, but other than that, it was warm familiarity, a pattern and a routine. He had been a man of routines all his life, and yet Piper was his favorite always new and thrilling routine.

“I love you,” he said. “I will teach you all I know, but please, please, don’t believe that all you’re worth or all you ever were was on the bow and protecting people.”

“It’s not, I know,” she said, pressing her lips to his collar.

Long and deep kisses passed as he held her, and she sank again and again on his cock. “Then why,” he began, moaning as she pressed herself even deeper, “is it so important that you learn?”

“What else can I do?”

“Be with me.”

“I am with you.”

“Live with me. Build a life together, travel with me. Would you go somewhere with me?”

“Anywhere, I’d go anywhere.”

He laid her down. She squeezed his arm. An ankle rested on his shoulder as he teased, the tip of his cock at her entrance. She whined, taking him, stroking him once, twice before removing, and he was so addicted to that feeling of her that he couldn’t tease either him or her any longer and thrusted himself inside.

“Anywhere,” she said as he began to rub her clit, make her come quickly and softly. “Let’s see everything.”

“You won’t be held back.”

“No,” she promised. “I won’t be.”

He came, spilling inside. He remained inside as he came back to earth, falling against her, letting her move the two of them to their sides. He was inside even still. She stroked his cheek and dampened hair, tenderly kissed and stroked down his side. She took care of him. She always did. She took care of everyone. It was up to him to take care of her. How lucky he was.

“Cullen Rutherford, you promise me one thing,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

“Anything.”

“You have to know. I didn’t save you. You saved yourself.”

“You lifted me up though.”

“Cullen—”

“You lifted me up.”

He was going to hear none of that talk. There were things he knew to be true, and her helping him forge and reassemble was one of them.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I may have assisted lifting you up. But you did the rest. And today—”

He knew. He lifted her up, but she was going to forge and reassemble herself, find herself again. And they were going to travel, make love, maybe adopt more dogs…and other things.

After the uprising at Kinloch Hold, however, Cullen’s mornings became more of a reprieve than a pleasant start to the day. Nightmares of demons and abominations plagued his mind, making most of his nights an exercise in staying silent and still so as not to disturb his other surviving brethren. When the mornings came, it was a relief to rise from his bunk and to have something to do — anything to do, really, to occupy his mind and to distract him from the memories that haunted his exhausted mind at night. 

It remained this way for many years. At night, Cullen lay in his bed in the barracks and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered what terrible memories his sleeping mind would conjure and twist, and he prayed for the morning to come as swiftly as possible to free him from the necessary pain of sleep. When he transferred from Kinloch Hold to Kirkwall, his routine remained the same: lie down, attempt to sleep, and wait for the morning to arrive and relieve him of the anxious thoughts that wouldn’t deign to leave him in peace. 

As the years slid by in Kirkwall, it only grew worse. The conflict between Templars and apostates haunted his days while his memories became corrupted in his dreams, and when the mornings came, the reality of the waking day was a paltry relief from the horror of his nights. 

At some point along the way, Cullen stopped enjoying his mornings. He rose early out of necessity, not out of a love for the freshness of a new day. He rose early to escape the confines of his own mind, not to embrace the potential of what he could achieve. It wasn’t until he joined the Inquisition that his mornings once again became something to look forward to.

It wasn’t until he fell in love with Piper that his mornings once again became something he could enjoy.

Piper was a light that guided his waking days as surely as the sun that climbed across the sky. Her chirping laugh echoed in his ears before he slept at night, and her crooked scarred smile was the first thing on his mind when he woke. On those occasions when she was home at Skyhold for the night, the warmth of her naked skin lulled him to sleep, and her unruly cloud of silverite-coloured hair the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes.

When the mornings came, Piper was there beside him. Her tawny skin was a maze of intricate tattoos and scars, and the in-and-out of her sleeping breath was a soft echo of the breeze that flitted through unrepaired holes in the ceiling of his room. As the sun continued to rise, it would light the silvery strands of her hair to a scintillating shine, and when she finally opened her eyes to smile at him, it was like watching the rising of the sun as the contentment bloomed across her lovely face.

“Good morning, Golden Boy,” she whispered, and the husky sound of her sleep-laced voice was a better herald of the nascent day than the chirping of the birds that lived in Skyhold’s courtyard. She stretched out beside him in the bed, twisting her hips and flexing her toes as though to welcome her consciousness back into her body, and Cullen admired the warm shades of her body: the light caramel of her skin highlighted by her tattoos and her scars, the dusky pink of her yawning lips and the peachy warmth of her nipples as she twisted her spine – warm and summery shades and tones, not unlike the colours of the rising sun…  

She chuckled and tucked her arms under her head. “See something you like, Commander?” she purred.

He lifted his eyes from her body to her face. “I certainly do,” he said softly. 

Her smile widened, and she stretched once more, slowly twisting her hips in such a way as to unerringly draw his eyes back to her body. “This isn’t a fancy fabric shop in Val Royeaux, you know,” she said playfully. “You can look and touch if you like.”

Cullen huffed in amusement at her comment, but he took advantage of her invitation to run his hand over her belly and up to her breast. He brushed his palm over her nipple before teasing the tiny bud with his thumb, and by the time her nipple was a hardened little peak, parts of Cullen’s body were feeling distinctly hardened as well – something that Piper, as usual, immediately noticed. 

She arched her spine with a happy little sigh, then reached down between his legs, and Cullen  dragged in a sudden breath as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft. She began to slowly stroke his length, and he groaned and blissfully dropped his mouth to her shoulder. 

He hungrily kissed Piper’s shoulder, then the edge of her collarbone and the delicate upper swell of her perfect petite breast, and Piper lifted her hips. “Cullen,” she breathed. 

“Yes, Piper?” he murmured against her skin. Then he took her nipple in his mouth. 

She gasped and squeezed his manhood, and Cullen gasped as well as a ripple of pleasure bolted from his groin up through his chest. He stroked her other breast, teasing her nipple until the peak was hardened and she was whimpering, then slid his palm down over her belly to delve his fingers between her legs. 

She mewled and jerked her hips, and Cullen released a shaky breath against her breast. She was slick already, fragrant and slippery and waiting, and Cullen swallowed hard to control his lust as he stroked her clit. 

Piper mewled again and sank her fingers into his hair, and Cullen closed his eyes, comforted and aroused in equal measure by the gentle pressure of her fingers against his scalp. He petted the tiny pearl between her legs until she was twisting her hips, and when her fingers tensed in his hair, his own lust thrummed even more eagerly in anticipation. 

Sure enough, she arched her spine and thrust her hips toward his hand. “Cullen!” she cried. “Fuck me, fuck me now, come here and fuck me…” She trailed off with a moan and resumed her stroking of his cock, and Cullen groaned with longing before taking her nipple in his mouth once more. 

Without moving his lips from the enticing taste of her skin, he shifted between her legs. She was breathing roughly now, ragged little gasps that only grew rougher as he rocked his manhood through the perfect slick softness of her flesh. She arched her spine and lifted her hips, rubbing herself against him in a perfectly wanton way, and Cullen couldn’t restrain himself anymore: he lifted his mouth from her breast, then kissed her firmly and sheathed himself inside of her. 

She cried out and clasped his shoulder and his neck, and Cullen groaned into her lips with equal satisfaction. She was perfectly warm inside and out, the warmth of her mouth and the warmth of her fragrant tattooed skin and the perfect slick warmth between her legs, and Cullen gloried in the feel of Piper’s heat before starting to move. He curled his hips toward her, then arched his back before thrusting toward her once more, and when Piper lifted her hips to meet him, they both released a gasp that ghosted across each other’s lips. 

He twined his fingers with hers, pressing her hands into the bed as their bodies met with growing zeal. His pleasure was surging with every eager stroke and every lusty gasp that parted from Piper’s lips, and in the space of just a few minutes, his neck and forehead were laced with sweat. 

Piper bucked her hips and strained against his hands. “I want to be on top,” she blurted. 

“Of course,” he groaned. “Anything you like…” He released her and sat back, and before she was even fully upright, she was pushing his chest and forcing him onto his back. Her small callused hands were sliding over his pecs, and she was straddling his hips and shoving her silvery mane back from her face, and–

Cullen jolted and cried out. He was inside of her once more, sheathed so deeply inside of her that the exquisite feel of her drove him to squeeze his eyes shut. When he wrenched his eyes open once more, it was to see Piper’s lovely petite breasts bobbing over his head as she braced her palms on the headboard. 

“Fuck yes,” she moaned, and she began riding him hard. 

Cullen stared gormlessly at her breasts. The rhythm of her body was rapid and frenzied with need, and he gaped at her in awe, eyes wide as he studied the lithe lines of her body and the perfect curve of her breasts and the peach-pink peaks of her nipples as they swayed over his face…

He couldn’t resist. She was far too tempting. He lunged toward her and took her nipple in his mouth.

She cried out and began riding him harder still, and Cullen greedily slid his palms from her waist down to her bottom. He savoured the roundness of her flesh in his palms and the softness of her breast against his lips, and as the brightness of the sun through the ceiling graced his closed eyelids, he couldn’t help but marvel at how wonderful this all was. The slats of golden light peeking through the unrepaired roof and the tawny-golden shade of her skin; the fresh scent of dew in the mountain air and the mouth-watering scent of Piper’s feminine dew as she rolled her hips down to meet his own; the coolness of the morning air whispering across his sweat-laced skin as he savoured the slick heat of Piper’s body crowning his own: this was the best way to spend an early morning. Cullen had never had mornings like this, and he’d never known that mornings could be this pleasurable or this precious. 

Then Piper had come along. And whether she was present at Skyhold or not, Piper was the reason that Cullen happily greeted every waking day.

She gently pulled his head away from her breast, then slanted her lips over his in a hard kiss, and Cullen gripped her bottom more firmly in his hands. His climax was spiralling toward him once more, thrumming between his legs and low in his belly and coiling in the muscles of his calves, and when it finally came upon him, it was with a dizzying crash that drew an uninhibited groan from his gasping lips.

By the time his body stopped trembling and he could once more open his eyes, Piper’s kiss had calmed from a passionate melding of  their lips to a sweet and gentle caress. Cullen smiled faintly as he kissed her back, and when Piper chuckled softly, he could feel her laughter through his lips.

She settled herself comfortably on his body so her chest was flush to his, and Cullen gazed adoringly at her. The corners of her lips were curled in a tiny smile, and her hazel eyes were more golden than green in the early morning light. She smiled at him without speaking, and as uncharacteristic as her silence was, Cullen understood: if she spoke, the idyll of the morning would be broken, and they would be forced to start the day. 

He smiled at her and stroked the silvery waves of her hair. Carefully and gently, he gathered some of her lush hair in his fist, then gently pulled her close. 

Her smile widened for a moment, and then she was kissing him once more. Her lips were sweet and soft, and her often-dirty feet were brushing against his legs in an idle caress, and for a wonderful, relaxed moment, Cullen simply savoured this moment and everything it meant – everything he’d never really thought to find: peace and comfort and pleasure with someone that he loved. He savoured the feel and taste of Piper’s smiling lips, and when she finally pulled away with a rueful smile, Cullen didn’t mind; a new day was here, and with Piper by his side, it was full of potential and the possibility for good.