Date: 2016-03-03 05:43 pm (UTC)
disgracedchampion: (Default)
There was something satisfying in Zevran's word-salad, the incoherent mixture that meant nothing in particular and yet Michel found himself hearing certain words over and over again. His name, endearment, words he recognized as encouragement kept resonating like a mantra and for this he had no interest in stopping what he was doing. He would flip the script, occasionally, try something different just to experiment with he ort of sensations that earned him sharp cries or low rumbling moans from flicking his tongue playfully at the glands to nibbling his way along that visible ridge that started just underneath the head of his cock, following the base all the way to his balls where the nipping turned into gently mouthing at the engorged flesh. His curiosity intermingled with a genuine need for Zevran's reaction and the way that he tasted, it made his eagerness all the more genuine.

"Mmm..." Michel paused with a soft sound in the back of his throat, please was certainly a sign of something that Zevran needed, whether he knew what that was or not. Michel withdrew a bit, but not entirely, his lips brushing against his companions' groin, nuzzling into that warm junction. Of course he wanted to keep going until Zevran came, so that he could watch, but the needs of his companion were important. In the past he'd only taken partners he would never see or sleep with again, this change in his routine made Zevran's needs and wants of him more central than anonymous figures. After a moment he tipped his head against Zevan's thigh, breathing might give him a chance to voice his needs, "what can I do for you bel homme?"
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting

Profile

ombranera: (Default)
Zevran Arainai

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Style Credit

Page generated Jun. 8th, 2025 11:33 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios