"No..." Michel confirmed simply, his face feeling all the warmer for the admission, like a man confessing that he was a virgin or never having swung a sword in his life. Fighting and having skill in the bedroom seemed to be a prerequisite for having pride in one's self for some reason. Michel thought it was strange and often kept his personal business to himself, then there were others who were quite loud about their conquests or their experiences and it only made him question whether it was true or just a show. He could only be honest about such things. He'd been trained never to present his back in any situation, though that was specifically in the case of battles and not in the case of massages. How often did a Chevalier get a massage? Perhaps some frequented such places of accommodation, but with his own life forfeit to the Empress he could not afford to be caught with his pants down both as a means to preserve her honor and his, but also his responsibilities dictated that he be available at a moment's notice.
Such thoughts were banished the moment Zevran began rolling his hips causing Michel's own to undulate, actively surging up to meet the delicious thrusting and moaning softly against the sheets every time his hips jerked forward. The pressure was building slowly, his sex swelling with ever pass of silk and the pressure that accompanied being crushed into the mattress. He thought he might find it uncomfortable at the very least....uncomfortable in an unpleasant way. Any discomfort he felt came from that building mantra screaming "more," forcing his body to twist restlessly until the grinding stopped with a sigh from the Chevalier.
Closing his eyes again he tried to keep his mind off the pulsing heat between his stomach and the sheets, instead focusing on the path of those hands and lips. It was so easy to melt under the attention of Zevran's fingers, his body bending to his companion's purpose, drawing the occasional sigh and delicate shudder from him as the assassin nipped and nuzzled his way lower and lower, toes curling as he felt his companion settle between his legs again, teeth and lips against his skin making his back arch under the attention. Would he be able to find any sensation that compared to this if he looked for it? How far would he have to go? Would a chevalier be welcome in Antiva...why think of such things?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2016-02-06 09:14 pm (UTC)Such thoughts were banished the moment Zevran began rolling his hips causing Michel's own to undulate, actively surging up to meet the delicious thrusting and moaning softly against the sheets every time his hips jerked forward. The pressure was building slowly, his sex swelling with ever pass of silk and the pressure that accompanied being crushed into the mattress. He thought he might find it uncomfortable at the very least....uncomfortable in an unpleasant way. Any discomfort he felt came from that building mantra screaming "more," forcing his body to twist restlessly until the grinding stopped with a sigh from the Chevalier.
Closing his eyes again he tried to keep his mind off the pulsing heat between his stomach and the sheets, instead focusing on the path of those hands and lips. It was so easy to melt under the attention of Zevran's fingers, his body bending to his companion's purpose, drawing the occasional sigh and delicate shudder from him as the assassin nipped and nuzzled his way lower and lower, toes curling as he felt his companion settle between his legs again, teeth and lips against his skin making his back arch under the attention. Would he be able to find any sensation that compared to this if he looked for it? How far would he have to go? Would a chevalier be welcome in Antiva...why think of such things?