Stuck on the Puzzle - Dragon Age Inquisition - Bull/Cullen

Kadan 2

He wasn't typically vocal, but the clamps picked him apart, and the next one – only a few millimetres up from the first on his cock – made him cry out, then groan roughly, trying to get a handle on the pain. If he arched, he stretched all the clamps biting into his flank. If he tugged on the ropes, he aggravated the ones on his armpits. The ones on his nipples constantly caused a buzzing, angry pain. The two on his cock made everything feel red and heavy. He blew out breaths through his clenched teeth, focused on Bull's hands – one just holding his cock, one stroking his belly again.

A minute, two minutes, the pain started to plateau, though at a much higher level than before. None of it could be called background noise now. It was a swamp he was stuck in, made his body tingle hot.

'Okay?' Bull said.

'Okay,' Cullen echoed without thinking. 'Yes.'

'Yeah,' Bull said, voice thick. 'You're stunning, you know that?'

Cullen said nothing at all then. He disagreed, but he'd agreed to yield. He didn't want to fight Bull on every little thing anymore.

'Your cock stayed hard through all of that,' Bull said, sounding so pleased, even though it was something Cullen had no control over. 'The things you do with pain are so fucking badass.'

Cullen could only focus on his breathing, legs shifting restlessly around Bull's body. When Bull moved, Cullen's legs gripped hard, but Bull was only reaching for something on the bed. The sound of a cork being worked out of a vial, and Cullen's nose strained for the green scent of elfroot, but he couldn't find it.

Then, an oil of some kind being painted with Bull's fingers over the seam of his ass. Shallow strokes first, and then Bull gripped Cullen's thigh and simply moved it out of the way – stretching his legs apart – and then he was slicking him where his tongue had worked him over before. Cullen shuddered, felt the pleasure of it. Shame was far away, clamped down by the pain that sat heavily over him.

Cullen was still aware enough to be hypersensitive when Bull's finger began working its way into him. The stretch was slow but inexorable, and Cullen felt himself tense and relax and tense again, as he had when Bull's tongue had pressed into him. He couldn't help it. And he knew Bull could see everything. The clamps. The ropes and the cuffs around his wrists. The blindfold. The way he constantly bit into his bottom lip or swallowed down noises. And now, if Bull wanted, he could see his own finger working its way into Cullen's body, because Cullen's hips were on display.

Cullen turned his head to the side and muffled his breathing into his shoulder.

Years of cerebrally gathered information – eavesdropping on talks, listening to Samson talk about it, picking up bits and pieces from around the place – synthesised into a moment where he realised how absurd it was to know something and never have experienced it. The feeling of being opened by someone else, the faint burn – for Bull's fingers could never be described as slender or small – and the feeling that he had so little left to have stripped away after the clamps had been placed on his body, and yet Bull was stripping it away regardless.

He shifted, impatient, wanting more, unable to get the leverage he really needed with Bull pinning him by his pelvis with his other hand.

He'd always assumed that Bull would talk nonstop through sex. But it was the silence that captured him now. He could hear Bull's breathing – it made him realise how often he couldn't. Even after they'd wrestled on the bed, Cullen couldn't hear it. And he knew Bull wasn't doing anything laborious, so that heavy breathing was because this moment had captured the both of them.

'Talk to me,' Bull said.

'You- That's your thing, not mine,' Cullen gasped, and then his back bowed as Bull's finger sank deeper than his tongue had gone, sank deeper still. One smooth, firm slide all the way to his last knuckle.