[ Maker, why? He's close, he's so close and now Bull withdraws? It takes a moment of graceless nodding, slumped and panting against the sheets for him to recall exactly what it was they'd been building to. There'd been a point, a fine point- something he'd been chasing.
Sprawled and silent other than the shuddered gasping of an elf drawn out, the slick, filthy sound of a hand on a cock is all too audible- and he groans. That. That's what they'd been building to. That is what he'd been hunting. His fingers curl and flex in their bonds, a vague attempt to roll out his shoulders and ready himself but he can't quite manage it gracefully. Can't remember how he's supposed to sit or act or where the light in this room would hit him best, how to hold his head to hide his expression. Enjoyment is well and good but no one should enjoy this too much, the masters said.
Bull's hand is back and he goes, easy and boneless not out of practice but out of exhaustion. Without his arms he cannot brace himself up on more than his shoulders, leaning back against the broad chest while he finds his feet, as it were. A little time without being tormented by pleasure or pain is enough for him to remember. Zevran nods- but does not speak it. Gives his hips a little experimental grind backwards to feel- oh, this is going to be good. ]
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Sprawled and silent other than the shuddered gasping of an elf drawn out, the slick, filthy sound of a hand on a cock is all too audible- and he groans. That. That's what they'd been building to. That is what he'd been hunting. His fingers curl and flex in their bonds, a vague attempt to roll out his shoulders and ready himself but he can't quite manage it gracefully. Can't remember how he's supposed to sit or act or where the light in this room would hit him best, how to hold his head to hide his expression. Enjoyment is well and good but no one should enjoy this too much, the masters said.
Bull's hand is back and he goes, easy and boneless not out of practice but out of exhaustion. Without his arms he cannot brace himself up on more than his shoulders, leaning back against the broad chest while he finds his feet, as it were. A little time without being tormented by pleasure or pain is enough for him to remember. Zevran nods- but does not speak it. Gives his hips a little experimental grind backwards to feel- oh, this is going to be good. ]