[ He shows his teeth at the gentle application of Zevran's hand, and rewards it -- a little. Enough. His mouth again, the sound of his short breaths and the feeling of slightly hindered movement all resonating with him in ways most pleasing. The blunt feel of teeth interspersed with the damp pressure of his mouth, sucking through silk becoming steadily ruined.
Once again, he swaps out hand for mouth, but his palm make firmer strokes through the fabric, silk rippling under his palm. Impatience for his own game finally beginning to show as he conspicuously shifts in place from his sprawl at the end of the chaise, settled cattish between Zevran's legs. ]
What a lovely mess I've made, [ he says, his voice huskier than it had been previously. His tone is that of pondering outloud, but his gaze is direct. ] How ever will I clean it up?
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Date: 2016-02-19 11:14 am (UTC)Once again, he swaps out hand for mouth, but his palm make firmer strokes through the fabric, silk rippling under his palm. Impatience for his own game finally beginning to show as he conspicuously shifts in place from his sprawl at the end of the chaise, settled cattish between Zevran's legs. ]
What a lovely mess I've made, [ he says, his voice huskier than it had been previously. His tone is that of pondering outloud, but his gaze is direct. ] How ever will I clean it up?