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Working at Villa Dellamorte was a pretty cushy gig, in Elise’s opinion. The pay was great, ample time off, none of the family were handsy. It just took nerves of steel sometimes.
Elise tried not to let her fingers shake as she poured coffee for Lucanis, newly back from the dead and First Talon for all of a month or so.
Alessandra insisted he was actually a sweetheart, but she had worked in the kitchens for 30 years. Looking at the severe man now, with his dark circles and the hard line of his mouth, Elise had trouble picturing the sweet boy that stood on a chair to help Alessandra make churros. Now, rumors swirled in the Villa that he was possessed—and that was why Caterina had left for the southern vineyard.
The man sat at Caterina’s old desk filling out forms, surrounded by stacks of paperwork. Beside him, sitting crosslegged on the antique wooden desk, Rook sorted through more documents while being fanned by one of their undead. Elise tried not to squeak when the thing turned its head and its skull smiled at her.
She quickly set their cups and saucers down, trying to make as little noise as possible. ‘At least it’s Wednesday,’ she told herself. Wednesdays were quickly becoming her favorite part of working here. Because on that day for the past few weeks, Villa Dellamorte had been getting a visitor.
“If that will be all, Serahs,” Elise did a hasty bow, already turning to leave. She should be appalled at her own impropriety, but she was running late. She hoped she hadn’t missed anything good.
“Stop,” a melodic, Nevarran accent called behind her. Elise cringed, and pasted on a pleasant smile before turning.
Rook’s cold single eye met hers. “The other servants have also been in a rush for the past hour or so,” they said. Lucanis looked up as well, his flinty gaze fixed on her curiously. “What’s got you all so anxious?”
“I—“ Elise drew in a breath. Suddenly she had a brilliant idea. “I could show you?”
Elise had never realized she was taller than both Rook and Lucanis. The two just always seemed to loom in her mind. In reality, with both of them now beside her, she could see Lucanis only came up to her nose, and Rook was a hand shorter than even he was. They seemed less scary like this, hiding with her to peak around the corner into one of the lesser used drawing rooms.
There, Illario was holding court. He lounged decadently on the chaise lounge, gesturing with a wineglass as he recounted his many romantic exploits.
Several of the Dellamorte Villa servants had taken their break to listen. They sat around him like a chorus, sighing and gasping at the more scandalous moments. And there at the center was the crown jewel, their beloved visitor. Bellara Lutare was taking notes.
“—and then I said ‘You like to walk a little too close to the edge,’” Illario drawled, his voice dropping down to a seductive purr. Beside Elise, Lucanis made a small noise like a strangled cat. Rook’s ears pricked up. Their head swiveled from Illario to Lucanis and back again; they looked confused for some reason.
Bellara squealed, her pen flying across the page. “Oh that’s good, that’s real good.”
“Right?” Illario was in his element and preening at all the attention.
“And then what happened?!”
Illario took a drink of his wine, drawing out the moment for suspense. Bellara, the staff, Rook and Lucanis— everyone leaned in. Finally, he finished his sip. “She says ‘Illario,’” Illario adopted a husky falsetto. “‘I want you to take me to that edge, Illario.’ So obviously I must pull her into my arms and kiss her.”
For a moment, Elise thought she saw a flash of purple out of the corner of her eye. Rook barred their arm out, pressing Lucanis back.
Bellara concurred with Illario, as did many of the servants listening in. “Obviously.” “How could you not kiss her?” “George never kisses me like that.”
"Dump him," Illario offered to that last one, swirling his wineglass.
He continued, “I made love to her there, and we shared one beautiful, torrid night together. But it wasn’t meant to be! Her father was a man of the faith you see. The very next day he announced he had promised her hand to a chaste marriage with a Chantry brother.”
Bellara frowned and flicked through her notes. “I thought her dad died at sea, leaving her the heiress to a wealthy estate?”
Illario paused then nodded. “Ah, yes of course. How could I forget. She had two fathers. They were gay.”
Elise felt herself tear up a bit. To lose one father, then denied her true love by the other? That poor woman. Poor Illario. She'd wondered before why such a handsome, charming man was single. No wonder, if he'd been hurt before.
He sighed, “I do not regret our time together, and hold the memory fondly to my chest. But tell me, Bellara.” Everyone shivered at how he said her name. Illario looked at her over the edge of his glass, eyes half lidded.“Do you have any questions for me this week?”
And this was the real draw for Elise. Everyone could see the yearning, the building tension between Illario and Bellara. It was only a matter of time before they acted on their feelings. It was just like the serials!
Bellara blushed and averted her eyes. “Wow, yeah. A lot of questions I mean. Just give me a minute. Need to gather my thoughts haha. That’s a funny phrase isn’t it? Gathering thoughts. You can have a whole…big ball of thoughts gathered up and still not make sense of them.” She clicked her pen faster and faster. Illario seemed charmed, and watched her with a fond smile as he waited.
“I’m going to kill your cousin,” Rook said plainly, as if they were stating a fact about the weather. Lucanis shushed them.
“Um so…” Bellara said, “that part about walking close to the edge. How were you positioned? So I can get a sense of the scene, I mean. Blocking and all that, you know.” The tips of her ears were turning red.
Illario gave Bellara possibly his handsomest smile and guided her to stand up with him. “Well you see, cara mia.” He stepped closer; Bellara stepped back. This dance between them continued until Bellara gasped when her back hit a wall. “It was something like this,” he said, voice dropping a bit deeper. He leaned closer and placed his hand on the wall beside her.
Elise was trying very hard not to squeal. Perhaps overcome by seeing his scoundrel cousin so in love, Lucanis’s hand flashed out to grab Rook’s shoulder for support. Like Bellara, the tips of Rook’s ears were also turning red; however, they were quietly making a sound much like a tea kettle.
Elise would have chided them for almost giving away their hiding spot, but the noise was covered by the Dellamorte servants. Quiet gasps and hushed whispers filled the room as everyone watched on the edges of their seats. It didn’t matter though, Bellara and Illario seemed lost in their own little world.
“And then,” Illario whispered to her, “I kissed her, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Bellara whispered back.
Illario leaned a bit closer.
Rook broke away from the wall, pulling a catatonic Lucanis along into the room. “So then I— Oh my! What is going on here!” Rook said woodenly. With the jig up, Elise followed behind them and discretely took her place to watch the show.
Bellara peeked around Illario and gave a sunny smile. “Oh hey, Rook!” She ducked around Illario to pull Rook into a hug. Over her shoulder Illario sneered at them and returned to his chaise lounge with a pout.“Hey, Lucanis!”
Lucanis, still silent, hollowly held up his hand in greeting. His eye seemed to twitch a little.
If Bellara noticed his odd behavior, she didn’t comment on it. “Lucanis is always talking about how Illario’s the people person and a—um. He’s good at romance! So I figured I’d ask him for help with my novel!”
Rook’s smile grew a bit tighter as they turned to look at Lucanis. “Oh, how wonderful! Isn’t that great, Lucanis? How you brought these two together?” Lucanis gave a longing look at the second story window before he nodded.
Bellara laughed nervously. “Not like…together-together! We're friends now. Just friends!” Rook and Lucanis did not look enthused, but Elise was nearly shaking in excitement. The denial stage of friends to lovers! She wondered which one would have the ‘Oh. Oh’ moment first.
Over Bellara’s shoulder again, Illario smiled at them and raised his wineglass in a toast. Lucanis made a choked noise that caused Bellara to look at him in concern. Elise really hoped she wouldn’t be sent to fetch smelling salts; she didn’t want to miss any of this.
Rook patted Lucanis’s shoulder in comfort.“Sorry, he’s exhausted. We’ve been busy sorting out the transfer with the Crows.”
Bellara gave him a sympathetic look. “I was wondering why you guys haven’t been around the Lighthouse lately.”
Rook hummed then gasped. “Oh, that reminds me! We actually stopped by earlier today, and you got a missive from one of the Veil Jumpers. Something about how the artifact near camp’s resonance was off? Tist said he had it in hand though.”
Bellara gave a small shriek. “I need to double check his work.” She grabbed handfuls of her stack of notes and began shoving them in her bag. “Tist always overestimates how high the frequency needs to be!” She pulled Rook into another hug. “Sorry to dash off but—“
Rook waved her off. “Not to worry, I get it. Elise, could you have someone see Bellara out?” They gave her a meaningful look.
“Of course, Serah.” Elise, delighted, understood what this meant. ‘I need reconnaissance. Send your most gossipy of coworkers.’
Once Bellara had left, the cheery smile on Rook’s face dropped. They turned to the Dellamorte staff gathered and made a shooing motion. “Scatter…Please.”
The servants grumbled but slowly filed out of the room. And immediately reconvened outside the doorway to listen in, as Rook and Lucanis turned in sync to face Illario. He gave them a smug look and lounged back.
Lucanis seemed to finally come out of his stasis. He drew in a deep breath.
“No.” he said.
Rook nodded in agreement with this argument. “Absolutely not.” Oh, bringing Rook and Lucanis here had been such a good idea. The serials always had some sort of outside force opposed to the couple's love!
Illario smiled sharply. “What? She asked for help; I’m just the artist’s muse.”
Rook snorted. “Yeah, and you were really leaving room for Andraste while helping,” they said.
“You know what you were doing, Illario,” Lucanis growled. “Leave her alone. Bellara’s a sweet girl.”
Illario gave a sarcastic hum. “Thirty-three’s kind of old to be a girl, no?” Lucanis and Rook both rolled their eyes like he was just being difficult. Elise's eyebrows knit together; she'd assumed Bellara was younger. 'Shame,' Elise mourned, 'The age gap could've been hot.'
“Cousin," Illario drawled out, "You worry too much. She knows what this is. We’re friends.”
Lucanis narrowed his eyes. “You don’t do friends, Illario.”
Some of Elise’s coworkers looked at each other in confusion. Illario threw parties and brought beautiful people around the estate all the time. Although now that she thought about it, Elise tried to remember if she could recall any repeating faces. Few came to mind.
But Illario didn’t try to deny the accusation. He shrugged. “Well, we can all change. You did, after all.” He set his empty wineglass on the coffee table and stood up.
“Oh come on, the coaster is right there,” one of the servants watching muttered. Elise hissed at them to shut up.
Lucanis growled again; this time there was a strange refrain to it. He stepped closer to Illario. “Is that what this is? What, you already failed as an assassin so leading my friend on is the best you can do?”
Elise brought a hand to her mouth, silencing a gasp. She hadn’t even thought about that angle. Oh the guilt, the internal conflict that would give Illario. How delicious!
Illario dropped the bored facade. “Trust me, I’m not dumb enough to try to piss off an abomination,” he snarled. “Not everything is about you, Lucanis. Maybe I just like spending time with her.” Illario’s eye drew over to Rook who stood there watching this exchange with their arms crossed. “Or maybe you think it’s normal to make your first friend and immediately need to fuck them?”
Lucanis launched himself at his cousin. A few of the servants quietly cheered; it had been awhile since the Dellamorte men had a good fist fight. A couple more bemoaned the mess they’d have to clean up afterwards. Elise chewed her lip anxiously. She hadn't expected them to actually fight if she brought Lucanis here. But also, she wasn't above the joy of watching rich people tear into each other.
Elise wondered what would happen if Illario got a good hit to the face. She imagined Bellara would gasp in worry if she saw a dark bruise along Illario’s high cheekbone. Perhaps she would dab at it with a poultice or something. Elise trembled at the thought. Bellara wasn’t due back until next week, but Elise sighed dreamily at the image nonetheless.
Rook was not as excited about the idea of tenderly applying a poultice to their partner's wounds. They pinched their nose and looked to the ceiling; they refused to acknowledge the two grown men rolling around in front of them. “Maker damned children, both of them,” Rook muttered. They turned and stalked out of the room.
They looked over at the servants still watching the fight. Elise froze for a moment, worried the group would be reprimanded, but Rook didn't seem to care. “I’m going to go lie down. Call me if he turns purple.”
Maybe it was the distraction of getting laid regularly, or maybe a demon really did wear his face, but Lucanis was losing his edge. For he also didn’t notice the Lighthouse had been getting its own visitor, one supposedly under house arrest, those past few weeks.
Later that evening Illario slipped through the Eluvian. He gave a quick look around, checking for any of Lucanis’s friends. His cousin and Rook had taken to spending nights at Villa Dellamorte, but the Veilguard still regularly used the Lighthouse as a sort of home base. With that in mind, Illario kept to the shadows as he crept along. As long as he stayed downwind of the qunari and listened for the distinctive clink clink of the nosy one he should be fine; they were his two biggest threats to getting caught. It was child’s play for a Dellamorte, even the Lesser one.
‘Still annoying though,’ he mused to himself. He paused at the courtyard door to listen for anyone outside. The skeleton and the other creepy necromancer were out there but they sounded to be alone. He closed his eyes, and tried to pinpoint which direction they were based on the sound. The not Rook necromancer seemed to be on the left and facing west, and the skeleton could see the door. Perfect.
Illario cracked the door to the outside to check. Sure enough, Lucanis’s friend had his back to him and seemed to be busy lecturing the skeleton. When it saw Illario slip outside the skeleton hissed and threw its arms up. “At dooor!” it yelled.
“Oh, I adore you too, Manfred!” the necromancer cooed, not noticing Illario make a dash to the side and flipping over the edge of the courtyard.
“No!” the thing hissed. “Door!” It pointed behind the man.
Necromancer turned, but Illario was already gone. Beneath the courtyard, he clung to the rocky underside of the Lighthouse. Below him lay nothing but the depths of the Fade.
“Yes, that is a door! Good job, my boy! Now back to our lesson—“
Illario cursed. He’d been hoping they would leave soon, and he could pull himself back up. This would be so much easier if he could just kill them. He looked around to decide his next move.
There was a crack running along the underside, large enough to wedge his hand. He said a quick prayer there were no bugs, and stuck a hand in to grab the ledge. Once he had a solid hold with both hands, he let his legs drop and used the momentum to grab another stone jutting out. Slowly he made his way across like this, dangling over the Fade one hand at a time.
By the end his arms burned in exertion. There was a vine in front of Illario he could use to pull himself up behind the workshop and stay out of sight. He tried to grab it, but it was just out of reach. He could jump, but wouldn’t have enough momentum to reach that far while hanging. ‘The things I do for pussy,’ he lamented.
Illario raised his legs and wrapped the vine around his feet. Then he released his exhausted hands; he swung to hang upside down from his feet gripping the vine. He let himself rest there for a moment, shaking feeling back into his hands. Once he caught his breath, Illario flexed his core and pulled himself upright. A lovely stripper in Minrathous had taught him that move. From there it was easy enough to climb the vine like a rope and pull himself back up onto solid ground, right behind the Lighthouse workshop.
Illario shook his limbs out. “Son of a bitch.” He pouted, noticing a smear of dirt on his shirt. This is why he left the acrobatics to Lucanis; their job was so much cleaner if you could just talk your way in. He sighed and fixed his hair; then he reapplied his lip balm. (It was vanilla flavored).
Once assured he still looked good, Illario strolled over and wrapped his knuckles against the workshop window. He heard a few crashes, cursing, and something that sounded like a frog croak before Bellara threw open the window. She ducked her head out to give a quick look around before fisting her hand in Illario’s shirt to yank him inside.
"Alright, alright," Illario complained as he scrambled to climb through the window. "You know, this isn't a very nice way to treat your friends." He grinned. "Even if you're 'just friends.'"
She groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "I'm sorry!" she said. "You saw them though; they were making it so weird! I knew they'd make it weird!" She peeked up at him through her lashes. "Were they mean to you when I left?"
Illario gave his prettiest laugh. "Lucanis got puffy and tried to protect your virtue, we tussled a little, nothing new. It's fine, tesoro."
Bellara frowned. "That's not…I'm…Never mind. We should get started anyways." Illario blinked. He thought he might have said something wrong, but he wasn't quite sure what. Bellara brightened, "I've got big plans for today, anyway," she said, walking away and toward her desk.
Illario followed her, still trying to figure out what he said. But Hurricane Bellara had already moved on. She gestured to her desk which was laid out with what seemed to be camping supplies for a three day trek in the woods.
“I’ve got everything all set. There’s water to keep us hydrated, snacks for after in case your blood sugar drops, an emergency knife, and more of that lube you said was good.” Without preamble, she started to yank her top off over her head, flailing when her shirt got caught on that ridiculously large bun.
Illario made no move to help and leaned back against the wall. It wasn’t even a particularly mean smile as he watched her struggle. Plus, he got to watch her tits jiggle. Finally, with a triumphant little ‘yes!’ under her breath, Bellara’s head popped free and she tossed her shirt to the ground.
Illario had made a promise that day to his cousin that he wouldn’t try anything with Bellara. First of all, Lucanis should have known there was no way Illario hadn’t already hit on her in their short time together. Second, Illario could have been a saint, and it wouldn’t have mattered. Because Lucanis never said anything about if Bellara was the one that propositioned Illario. She had a whole list of delights she wanted to try as research for her novel.
Bellara was still chattering as she dropped the rest of her clothes to the ground. “—in the scene I’m having trouble with where the baron—Just checking, you said you’re okay with getting tied up right?” She glanced back to where Illario still stood by the wall to check his nod. “Awesome! Ok, do you have a preference on material? For the ropes, I mean. I got silk, hemp, velvet, or cotton?”
This must have been one hell of a scene. Bellara was practically vibrating in excitement as she held up a jumbled pile of various colored ropes. Illario ignored the question for a moment and sauntered forward.
He tucked a knuckle under her chin, guiding her face up to press their lips together. For a moment, her nervous energy stilled as she returned the kiss. Illario would never get tired of that feeling—of being able to corral the full force of her attention to focus only on him even if for just a moment. He pulled back, and smiled when her mouth chased after him. “Hi, cara mia.”
Bellara’s eyes fluttered open, showing those big brown doe eyes. She flushed prettily and smiled up at him. “Hi!”
Illario ran one hand up her bare back and relished in the strong archer’s muscles that flexed under his hand. It was a delightful contrast to the softness of her breasts pressing against his chest. His other hand reached up to pull out her hair pin; her long hair tumbled down through his fingers. Illario whispered against her mouth, “I like silk.”
“Huh?” she said dreamily. Then blinked. “Oh shit, yeah one second!” She pulled away and got to work untangling the ropes.
Illario huffed a laugh, and turned away from her to undress himself. One by one he plucked the silver rings off his fingers, dropping them in the bowl Bellara had started leaving out for him when they began this arrangement. Next came the shirt, then his trousers, then his smalls, all folded and neatly set aside. Bellara had tried to be seductive and take off his clothes for him one time, but she was too grabby and he’d gotten fussy that she’d rip or stretch the fabric.
Once nude, he lay on her bed and stretched out. Casually, he turned his head to the side, emphasizing the long, artful lines of his neck and collarbones. Bellara wasn’t looking. He thought for a moment, and reached down to give his cock a few quick jerks to get it a bit more impressive looking.
Illario cleared his throat and gave a delicate cough. He rolled onto his side, flexing one arm so he could rest his head in his hand. The other muscular arm, he draped along his side to call attention to his trim little waist. He glanced over, and Bellara still wasn’t looking at him. He cleared his throat again.
"Do you need a drink?"
"No, I'm fine."
Finally, she gave an ‘aha!’ as the silk rope came free. He could tell it was a low thread count, coarser than he preferred, but the color was a deep blue that would look beautiful on his skin. She turned to him and blinked, flushing at the sight. Illario preened at her gaze. He held up a hand and crooked his finger, beckoning her toward him.
He could tell Bellara’s nerves were starting to get to her as she tied his ankles then wrists to the bed so he was laid out spread-eagle. Illario gave a tug to test the binds. Not bad. He could escape, but he’d have to dislocate a thumb. “Ok! Well, here we go then! Unless you want to back out I mean. Which would totally be okay! No pressure at all!” She gave a nervous laugh.
Illario smiled winsomely. He didn’t want to tell her this wasn’t the most extreme thing he’d done in bed in even the past month. What she had asked for by comparison seemed adorably quaint. “Cara mia, a beautiful woman wants to tie me up and tell me how pretty I am. There are worse things.” Illario took a moment to prepare to shoot himself in the foot. "But do you want this?"
Bellara looked at him. "Yeah, I do."
Illario beamed and rolled his shoulders to get comfortable. "Wonderful. Now let me taste you, bella mia. Stop thinking so hard; I promise I'll make it good," he purred.
"Right. You are the expert." Bellara took a deep breath and climbed up to kneel over him. She began to lower herself down. Illario craned his head up to get at her, and got one tantalizing, heady whiff of her core before she drew back up again. He let his head thunk back down against the pillow. "You remember the colors right?” Bellara asked.
Mierda, those books she read were uptight about this sort of thing. “Green for keep going, yellow for pause, red for stop. Snap if I can't talk. Now please, tesoro, sit on my face or I might die.”
"Just checking! Okay uh, guess we're doing this then." She started to bring herself down again but wobbled precariously. Bellara frowned and shuffled a bit, trying to readjust her position. Illario politely bit his lip in an attempt to keep from making a sound as she awkwardly shifted around, her vagina hovering inches from his face. He wanted to help her balance, but with his wrists still tied to the headboard he was helpless to intervene. Illario finally broke when she nearly kneed him in the face with a quick 'Oop sorry!' A warm feeling climbed up Illario's chest as he began to giggle.
Bellara paused over him. "What? What's so funny?"
Illario let his Bedroom Voice drop for a moment. "You're so bad at this." He should be kicking himself for saying such a mood killer. But that warm feeling clawing up inside him seemed to have mashed his brain down and seized control. He tried and found he couldn't pull the corners of his mouth down from smiling.
Bellara gave a squawk. "What?! I am not; it's just hard to get the position right with your arms there. And—and you can't talk," at this point even Bellara was having a hard time trying not to laugh. "You're tied up! Easy for you to criticize; literally all you have to do is lie there!"
Illario smirked up at her. "Bella mia, I can still—mhmph!" Apparently Bellara had had enough of his backchat, and silenced him by grabbing fistfuls of his hair and—finally—shoving her pussy into his face.
Illario got to work. He ran his tongue over her in broad strokes. Working without his hands was hard, but Illario welcomed the challenge. He nudged at Bellara’s clit with his nose while licking her entrance, backing off when she started to roll her hips into the movement. She was already wetter than he expected, but Illario wanted her really riled up.
Above, Bellara was starting to breathe harder as he went back to broad licks, occasionally sucking at her labia. Her fingers tightened in his hair when he finally wrapped his lips around her clit and suckled at it. She moaned and pressed his face closer to her. Illario flicked his tongue around her clit and the most delicate brush of teeth. Bellara squeaked and pulled her hips back, giving him a moment to breathe before he dove back into it.
Everything got a little hazy for Illario there. His only indication of time passed was the aches in his jaw and cock as he laved at her. The rest of the world narrowed to the musk of Bellara’s cunt, the rhythm of her hips rocking against his face, the shake in her soft thighs around his head. The spell broke when Bellara did. Her moans crescendoed before cutting off into a “Ohh. Oh gods!” and her pussy pulsed against him.
Illario licked her through it, only drawing back when her hands in his hair yanked him away. Bellara gulped for air before climbing off of him. She stood on shaky legs and leaned on the bed for support. “Okay…Okay to continue?” she asked, trying to regain her composure. He took a moment to admire her chest heaving and how her dusky brown nipples had hardened.
Illario smiled at her and licked his lips. “I should be asking you that.” He rolled his shoulders, comfortable despite the ties holding him down and the pain in his jaw.
Bellara lay down beside him. She kissed him, licking her own juices from his mouth. “You’re really good at that.” Illario’s eyes fluttered shut as she stroked down his chest. “You always know how to make me feel good.” Illario couldn't help but preen at a job well done. Her hand wrapped around his cock, and he let his eyes shut in pleasure.
“I want to tell you everything I like about you, as a thank you.” Illario gave a distracted hmm to show he was listening, more focused on rolling his hips up into the hand pleasuring him. Bellara giggled and kissed him.
“I think you might be the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.” This was nothing Illario hadn’t heard before, but he certainly wasn’t tired of it. “I like the slope of your nose,” she kissed his nose, “I like your pointy chin,” she kissed his chin. Her thumb rubbed over the head of his cock. Bellara pressed closer, resting her head on his chest.
“Tell me when you’re close, okay?” she asked. Illario gave an agreeable noise. He wanted to hear more. “I like how tall you are. It’s nice when you bend down to kiss me! And um. I like your…” Bellara’s hand didn’t slow down but she squeezed a bit tighter.
Illario forced his eyes open through the pleasure to look at her face. Shakier than he wanted, he gave her a grin. “Go on, dear, don’t be shy.” Bellara blushed but a glint of determination lit in her eyes.
“I really like your cock! How it looks and feels, I mean.” He rewarded her with a moan. “It’s um…pretty. I didn’t even know cocks could be but yours is. And I like how good it feels. I like how big it is.” Illario gave a tug at the binds, forgetting for a moment he was tied down. Illario was familiar with these words, but they sounded so damn cute coming from Bellara. "You’re always so good at getting me off."
Illario bucked up. “I’m getting close, cara mia.”
Bellara let go of his cock. He swore, yanking at the ropes holding him down. His cock, nearly purple, bounced as he rutted against the air. Bellara, the traitor, merely giggled at Illario. Finally, he flopped back and closed his eyes, resigned to his fate. She pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Thank you for telling me. Good boy.” Illario grunted, but his cock gave a humiliating jump.
Bellara got up and slung a leg over his hips to straddle him. “Wow,” she said a bit breathlessly. Illario felt a hand at his jaw and his eyes fluttered open. Bellara was looking down at him, backlit by the eternal sunlight of the Lighthouse. It warmed her long, dark hair that spilled down her body like rivulets of ink. Smears of slick glittered on her thighs and cunt. With her there, hovering just over his cock, he felt like an offering laid out beneath one of the Maker's angels.
“You really are beautiful,” Bellara said. And Illario couldn’t think of anything to say to that.
Bellara spared him by guiding his cock to her entrance and sinking down on him. She let her eyes close as he filled her, sighing in bliss when she reached the bottom. “You feel incredible,” she said. “Good—“ She gasped. “Good boy.”
Illario tugged at his binds and tried not to whimper. He was starting to suspect he may be in for a rough time.
Bellara planted her hands on his chest and started rolling her hips. With his ankles tied down Illario couldn’t get much leverage, but his hips rocked up anyway, trying to match her rhythm. Bellara's head tilted back and her mouth formed a soft 'o' as she took her pleasure. Illario moaned watching her use him.
“Gods, I love how strong you are,” she groaned.
“And you’re—Ohh—you’re so competent too!” Illario blinked. That…was a bit weird for dirty talk. And not something he was used to hearing. Bellara didn’t seem to notice his moment of confusion, perhaps wrapped up now in bouncing up and down on his cock. She wasn’t done talking though.
“That’s why I keep asking if we can meet here. I know it’s risky. But you’re so good at it. I know you can avoid being spotted, that you’re good enough to keep our secret. It’s—ah! Ahhh! It’s fucking hot.” Bellara practically growled those last words. Arousal stabbed through him. She kept going, listing every beloved detail about him. How he smelled. His painted nails. Apparently he made an endearing face when he tasted bad wine.
Illario writhed in his ties. He didn’t know what to do. If he closed his eyes all he could focus on was the molten heat gathering at the base of his cock and her words. He tried to distract himself with the hypnotic bounce of her tits or the sight of him thrusting into her; but all he could see was her, staring him down with terrible fondness. Illario whined.
“But it’s not even just the sex. I just like being around you—Oh!” Bellara squeaked as his hips bucked up hard enough to nearly dislodge her. Illario moaned and was no help as she regained her seating. Getting his hips to slow felt like an insurmountable feat. He turned his head and tried to bury his face in the pillow. The cotton smelled like wildflowers and sandal wood—like her.
Bellara slowed for a moment. Cool fingers pressed on his jaw, urging him to look at her. And he listened, of course he did. “Color?” she asked.
It took Illario a moment, and he bit his lip. He could end this. Bellara was merciless, but she wasn’t cruel. She wouldn’t be upset. She’d probably even be down for normal, less weird sex. Not…whatever the hell this was.
“Green,” he whispered.
Bellara smiled and leaned down to give him a quick kiss. “Good boy.” Illario damn near whimpered. She giggled and drew back.
“Where was I?” she asked and resumed bouncing on his cock. Bellara reached up grab at her breasts and rub her nipples. “Ahh. Ah. Oh yeah! I like hanging out with you. You’re funny! In a kind of mean way, I mean. But you're so clever and I like it. I really—mphm—really do!” She laughed at herself a little, and Illario choked on his spit when she tightened around him. His legs tried to kick out but the rope held him down. He was going to die here. He wasn’t sure if he cared.
“And you’re—fuck, I’m close.” Bellara moaned and brought a hand down to rub at her clit. The silk ropes bit into Illario’s fingers where he was holding on for dear life. “You’re so smart when it comes to people. I know you’re messing with me with the romance advice. And I don’t even care! I just—just like hearing your stories. And seeing people see you.” Illario gave a moan that sounded more like a sob.
He thrashed in his binds but there was nowhere to run. It didn’t feel like his body was his own—he couldn’t get his hips to stop thrusting, his legs kept trembling, and worst of all he could feel water beginning to pool at the corners of his eyes.
Bellara lay down on top of him, pressing her breasts against him and trapping the hand still moving on her clit between them. The other she swept through his hair.“You’re wonderful, Illario. I’m glad I met you.” She pressed a sweet kiss against his cheek.
Absurdly, that was what did it for Illario. His head jerked back and he screamed as tears trailed down his face. His orgasm hit so hard for a second he thought she’d stabbed him. But then the pleasure came, starting at his cock and shooting through him. Bellara’s pussy clenched and fluttered around him as she reached her own end, like she was trying to pull his cum further in. He felt her hand jump from his hair to dig her nails into his shoulder. In ecstasy, Illario gave a broken moan as he pumped his hips up into her.
The moment seemed to hang forever as they rolled their hips against each other. And then, all at once it ended as they both collapsed down on the bed. Bellara lay on top of him, trading air back and forth as they both tried to catch their breath. She reached up and gently wiped at his tear trails with her thumb.
It felt like he was floating. Illario was distantly aware that eventually she pulled away, then returned with a cloth. He shivered in oversensitivity as the rough fabric passed over his cock. Her other hand dropped to give his thigh an apologetic squeeze while she wiped him clean.
His daze continued as he watched her untie his legs then the arms. Each limb would have dropped leaden to the bed but she held on, gently rubbing feeling back into each ankle and wrist before setting them down. Illario felt like he was made out of porcelain. Fragile. Brittle. Cared for.
With the immediate needs seen to, Bellara hopped up on the bed beside him. She smacked a quick kiss on his cheek and cuddled up beside him, waiting. If Illario wasn’t in such a weird headspace he would’ve laughed. He knew a countdown timer had just started in her head, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but as he predicted it wasn’t long before she started getting wiggly. She fidgeted, repeatedly tapping on his pectoral. Then she realized what she was doing and stopped. Then started again a couple minutes later.
Illario cracked his eyes open to look at her. It was hard to concentrate enough to talk, but he forced his tongue to move. “You can…tinker or write or something. It’s fine.”
Bellara gave a little ‘yes’ and jumped up to grab something. She pulled on a robe then, to his surprise, brought whatever the boxy little contraption was back to bed and curled up next to him again. He blinked slowly, watching her work. His mind couldn’t wrap around what exactly she was doing as her hands glowed blue and parts of the object began to spin in response. Illario’s understanding of magic went about as far as where mages least liked to be stabbed, but there was something beautiful about Bellara in her element. That warmth was back in his chest, squeezing around his heart a bit more gently this time.
Slowly, Illario returned to the surface and the haziness wore off. Bellara was now fully enthralled in her work; her tongue poked out the corner of her mouth as she spun the contraption around. He stretched and her head popped up. “Oh, hey!” she said, still spinning the thing around and around. “How are you feeling? Thirsty? Or hungry? I have snacks.”
Illario cleared his throat a couple times. He felt…he didn’t know what he felt. Everything seemed to have tilted on its axis. Bellara smiled at him kindly as she waited for an answer. Illario felt a bizarre urge to bite the apples of her cheeks. “Can I…May I have some water? Please?” he asked.
One time Caterina tested their reflexes by tossing Lucanis’s stupid pet snake in the living room. In his terror, Illario had frozen and at the time he stupidly thought, ‘Don't blink. Nothing bad will happen. If I just don’t look away.’ He felt a similar compulsion to keep his eyes on her, and nearly brained himself on the dresser as he stood on shaking legs and tried to pull his clothes on without looking. Thankfully, Bellara had turned to pour the water from a jug and only looked over in question when he sat down heavily back on the bed.
When she handed him the glass, Illario took it delicately and nearly blushed as their fingers brushed. ‘Por la sangre del hacedor,’ he despaired to himself, ‘you were just inside her, calm down.’ He downed the water in a single gulp.
Illario coughed and cleared his throat again. “What’s…” Bellara adjusted her robe. Illario remembered that under there her breasts were hanging braless and free; his thoughts spun out again. He trailed off just long enough that Bellara was starting to look concerned before reining himself back in. “What were you working on?” he forced out.
Bellara gasped in delight and grabbed the thing. “Check this out!” She looked around the room for a moment before setting her eye on a potted plant in the corner. She pointed at the plant with the contraption, which gave a loud wrrrrrr before a ray of blinding light shot out.
“Pretty cool right?!”
Illario blinked his eyes a few times. Once he could see again he realized the plant was gone; nothing but a little smoldering pile of ash remained. “That is very cool.” She nodded enthusiastically and set the thing on her nightstand. She plopped down beside him, and Illario counted to ten. He tried very hard not to think about her soft hip brushing against him.
“It’s originally ancient elven technology. I’ve been using the archive to restore it. With some modifications, I mean. I figured if I—" she said a series of words Illario understood individually, but not strung together in that order. He liked watching her hands move as she talked though.
"—I could give it a little more oomph!” Bellara spread her fingers out, gesturing ‘oomph’ as some sort of explosion. “There’s this one crystal locked up in Adeodatus's vault—he's this magister in Tevinter? If I had my hands on that I bet I could—" Illario gave a thoughtful looking nod, pretending he understood any of what she was saying.
"—enough to vaporize a whole person!”
She glanced at him. “Something roughly the size of a person, I mean. Just a hypothetical. Could be just a neat idea to explore maybe. Sorry, I’m just rambling.” She pulled away a bit and shyly tucked a strand of her behind her ear. Illario wished he knew something about magic, anything to get her talking again with that light in her eyes.
He bumped his elbow against hers. “Bella mia, I’m an assassin. You build a device that lets me point at someone and they go poof? Let me know if you ever need a tester.”
“Oh. Oh, that’d be bad though,” Bellara said, a little starry eyed.
Illario shrugged. “I promise I’d only use it on a target that deserves it. Or something roughly the size of a target.” She giggled, and Illario mentally punched the air. He’d always liked her laugh, but did it always sound this sweet?
He should go, he realized. Before he did something stupid like kiss her.
“I need to leave.” Bellara’s face fell a bit, and he almost told her ‘Don’t do that.’ Illario had always secretly relished in the disappointment and hurt on his lovers faces as he waltzed out. To be fair, everyone liked to feel wanted. Now, he just felt nauseous and wanted to lie in her bed.
"Oh, are you s—"
"Yes."
“Aw, alright.” Bellara shrugged and didn't fight him further. She stood up to walk him to the door. She peeked outside. “Coast is clear. So um…see you next week then?”
Next week. Illario realized with a rush of dread what a hole he had dug for himself. It was humiliating how he couldn’t pull his attention from Bellara now when they were in a room completely alone. How the hell had he ever managed to flirt and recount obscenities while she watched him with those eyes? With an audience of gossipy, horned up servants.
“Maybe, I’ll let you know. I’m really busy next week.” Bellara’s lip tilted in a mere hint of a pout. “I’m sure it’s fine though. I can move somethings around.”
She beamed up at him. “Oh great! See you then! Probably, assuming whatever you’re busy with doesn’t get in the way. Oh!” Bellara squeaked as he pulled her into a hug on impulse. Illario’s heart was trying to gnaw its way out of his chest, but something settled just a bit when she wrapped her arms around him too and squeezed.
Did they usually hug after their past hook ups? He couldn’t remember. Now, it felt monumental. Illario had a sudden image of his rib cage cracking open and closing around her like a steel trap. She’d tangle up in his blood vessels and viscera and sinew; she and his heart could both sit right in there where they belonged. Illario gave her one last gentle squeeze before pulling away. “Bye,” he said and stepped out.
Illario stood there for a moment outside her room. On the other side he could hear a soft thud against the door and Bellara drawing in a deep breath. Then nothing as she quietly padded away.
Illario woozily tried to make sense of what the hell just happened. He squinted up at the Lighthouse sky, further disoriented by the Fade’s light. Bellara had been right earlier; he had several thoughts all clumping gathered together, all nonsensical. And Illario Dellamorte, true to his character, picked the worst one.
‘Mierda,’ he thought, ‘I might have to kill her.’
He already missed her.