Cullen's hand twists; Alistair cries out, burying his face against Cullen's shoulder as he grinds helplessly against him. "Yes," he's gasping, "yes -- "

And separate from all this: tomorrow, Cullen will walk around Halamshiral, his neck ringed in marks declaring Alistair's ownership. No need to imagine that. It's true.

With a few more quick strokes of Cullen's hand, Alistair comes -- and Cullen gets another mark as he bites his shoulder in an effort to muffle his cry.