[Oof, that shudder. The one that rockets through him like a feverflare, smouldering in rings around his throat beneath the layers of dressed finery still on him, chest heavy when he breathes out hard.
Not in a courtroom yet, thank the gods and Maker, all, but already on his way: and if nothing else it'll sell the idea of illness when he at last strides in (and out) to take his leave. (For now, they've time for one last bout of foreplay— he's already late, anyway. Three more minutes won't kill anyone.
....well.
Aside from the man on trial, slated for the noose.)]
You can use anything on me you please, provided you can actually reach.
But personal experience is right, you know. I just had someone else on my mind at the time. A handsome, difficult old cur who couldn't help but rile every time I prowled near. Couldn't bury the way he went hard with my breath on his neck, or my palm sunk hot between his hips, oil slick and ready to work him open if he'd only ask.
no subject
Not in a courtroom yet, thank the gods and Maker, all, but already on his way: and if nothing else it'll sell the idea of illness when he at last strides in (and out) to take his leave. (For now, they've time for one last bout of foreplay— he's already late, anyway. Three more minutes won't kill anyone.
....well.
Aside from the man on trial, slated for the noose.)]
You can use anything on me you please, provided you can actually reach.
But personal experience is right, you know. I just had someone else on my mind at the time. A handsome, difficult old cur who couldn't help but rile every time I prowled near. Couldn't bury the way he went hard with my breath on his neck, or my palm sunk hot between his hips, oil slick and ready to work him open if he'd only ask.
Or in this case, ready to cuff himself to my bed.
Wait for me.
I won't be long.