"No one else has seen you like this, have they?" Far from teasing, the words were soft, edged with proud affection and faint wonder. No one else had had Michel so willingly at their mercy, strung out on sensation and desire. Zevran was, at his core, a quietly selfish creature and to know no one had seen this, touched Michel quite like this, led him down sultry, sordid paths into all manner of sinful indulgence and likely none he would meet in the future could do it half so well or leave him half so distracted? Pleased him in a way no hand or mouth ever could. For however long they continue their dalliance- Michel like this, stripped of mask and sense and duty, was his.
Zevran meant to make the most of every lingering moment. Fresh oil applied to his hands he slid up to straddle the distracting, perfect curve of Michel's ass, pausing to grind his hips down so he might feel the leather and, in turn, be ground against the silken sheets. Hard and straining against the laces he indulged himself a moment with that friction, shuddering from the tips of his ears to the base of his spine before he recalled the purpose of this position.
First his hands, then his mouth- working out every knot of tension, every coiled muscle that he had been unable to reach while Michel lay on his back. Broad shoulders and firm muscle, the almost delicate curves of his spine, the soft nape of his neck- Zevran bent to his task to nip and nuzzle, kissing with gentle adoration along Michel's shoulders, following the long path down his spine from nape to base even as his hands worked out the tension he could find. The lower he went the further he had to slide down the backs of Michel's thighs, before he nudged them apart to settle there once again, biting a bruise into the small of his back.
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Date: 2016-02-05 08:56 pm (UTC)Zevran meant to make the most of every lingering moment. Fresh oil applied to his hands he slid up to straddle the distracting, perfect curve of Michel's ass, pausing to grind his hips down so he might feel the leather and, in turn, be ground against the silken sheets. Hard and straining against the laces he indulged himself a moment with that friction, shuddering from the tips of his ears to the base of his spine before he recalled the purpose of this position.
First his hands, then his mouth- working out every knot of tension, every coiled muscle that he had been unable to reach while Michel lay on his back. Broad shoulders and firm muscle, the almost delicate curves of his spine, the soft nape of his neck- Zevran bent to his task to nip and nuzzle, kissing with gentle adoration along Michel's shoulders, following the long path down his spine from nape to base even as his hands worked out the tension he could find. The lower he went the further he had to slide down the backs of Michel's thighs, before he nudged them apart to settle there once again, biting a bruise into the small of his back.