Michel could feel the tone of the massage change after his confession, like vines creeping over his skin, tendrils twisting and winding around each limb. It was a sensation he'd felt once before, one that filled him with a rush he couldn't quite explain, it momentarily trapped the air in his lungs, forcing him to remember that he had to, in fact, breathe. Last time he encountered this sensation he'd seen it behind Zevran's eyes, it was no different now other than the form it took. The sound of his voice, the way those hands smoothed over him, the intent behind the massage all but replaced with this new thing he could barely perceive, but he knew it was there. It caused the heat to rise in him once again, but the sheets were cool against his face and only his shoulders betrayed that suffusion of warmth
He yielded to it, though he would yield to nothing else and might not even remember this as yielding as boneless as he was. His fingers bunched into those sheets, flexing, twisting, anchoring himself to the bed as Zevran continued his attentions lower, more bruises following in the wake of that generous mouth. It was fortunate that Michel did not get dressed in a room shared with others, he would have a difficult time explaining away so many bruises that were obviously not the product of being clumsy--too small and too intimate were their placements.
Another soft moan followed by a visible shudder like a chill ripped up his spine as the assassin fixed his attention on his ass. It was curious, though he wasn't exactly new to some of Zevran's attentions down in the...southern regions...he still had to wonder a little at what his companion wanted to do. So, pushing himself up onto his forearms, Michel looked over his shoulder, his eyes unfixed as he watched Zevran kiss his tailbone...gallant and lewd...he was still attempting to find a word for it. It took a moment to dawn on him that the elf wanted to, well he could speculate on it, but even he had to confess that he did not believe the elf was so daring.
"I..." he blinked a few times so that his eyes might adjust enabling him to look at Zevran properly, or as properly as he could manage, "...if you are certain, if it is what you want to do, bel homme..."
He was not opposed, but he wanted to be just as certain that this was what Zevran wanted to do an not for the sake of completion
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Date: 2016-02-07 11:25 am (UTC)He yielded to it, though he would yield to nothing else and might not even remember this as yielding as boneless as he was. His fingers bunched into those sheets, flexing, twisting, anchoring himself to the bed as Zevran continued his attentions lower, more bruises following in the wake of that generous mouth. It was fortunate that Michel did not get dressed in a room shared with others, he would have a difficult time explaining away so many bruises that were obviously not the product of being clumsy--too small and too intimate were their placements.
Another soft moan followed by a visible shudder like a chill ripped up his spine as the assassin fixed his attention on his ass. It was curious, though he wasn't exactly new to some of Zevran's attentions down in the...southern regions...he still had to wonder a little at what his companion wanted to do. So, pushing himself up onto his forearms, Michel looked over his shoulder, his eyes unfixed as he watched Zevran kiss his tailbone...gallant and lewd...he was still attempting to find a word for it. It took a moment to dawn on him that the elf wanted to, well he could speculate on it, but even he had to confess that he did not believe the elf was so daring.
"I..." he blinked a few times so that his eyes might adjust enabling him to look at Zevran properly, or as properly as he could manage, "...if you are certain, if it is what you want to do, bel homme..."
He was not opposed, but he wanted to be just as certain that this was what Zevran wanted to do an not for the sake of completion