"So is 'Zevran', but you do not hear me complaining." He tugs Cyril close, tugging one of his hands up to press a kiss to the skin of his wrist, nipping at the flutter of his pulse there. "You know, an orgasm is an excellent way to loosen the muscles before a massage. It is better than a good soak some say."
"You are right on both points," Cyril replies. He feels his breath catch a bit at the nip. "I've certainly enjoyed moaning you're name. We needn't stop a good thing."
"If you feel particularly inspired, I won't stop you." It's almost easy to pull Cy close, to heft him up in his arms. Even without the water it isn't that difficult to cart him over to the nearest ledge and set him there. His lips make a slow trail from the side of Cy's neck to the center of his chest, dragging down with little blooming love bites.
Cyril doesn't protest being picked up. If anything, he fully enjoys it. He steadies himself on the ledge. He moves his arms behind him to support himself and to give Zevran more of his skin to work him. He hums happily at the attention, enjoying the little nibbles. "Mm, Zevran," he moans.
"See? Sounds just as well as it is. But I am curious how the others would sound." Or anything that springs to mind. He nudges Cy's thighs apart, licking the skin under his navel, deft fingers curled around the base of his cock. He takes his time stroking Cy into full hardness, watching him through every shiver and sigh.
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