"Is it so strange a thing to imagine? Trapped by an Antivan Crow, bound and stripped to be used at his pleasure..." It's a game he's played many a time and each was terribly sweet. Wonderful. More than worth revisiting- especially if Gavin was of a mind.

He seemed to be.

But flirtations were set aside in favor of arching into Gavin's mouth and rolling down against his thigh, pressing his own up to reciprocate the friction. The low moan he gave in response was sincere, his chest was not often the subject of adoration or attention. All the sweeter has it made the mouth on him and the one who owned said mouth. "Mmmm. You do know your way about-"

His breath hitched, a reward for skill.