Should I be concerned about that flicker of mischief I felt?
[ Indulgent, molasses slow. He cannot remember the last time he felt like this - the electric hot current of want still very much there, but sated, contented in some way he has otherwise not been in ages. There's a danger to this; too much indulgence, and well. He's seen what that can do without moderation, thinks a moment later about the casual comment very Allagan of us, drinking with Viktor and the warmth of Viktor's amusement, his pleasure burns the shadow out before it even has time to settle.
Viktor tips his chin back and Emet-Selch allows it, looks up at him through a lidded gaze, the smirk still teasing at his lips. ]
I've gathered, needy thing. [ He says it like a compliment, like a pet name, and accepts the press of fingers into his mouth with a slow, soft breath out around them, and daring, once again, to indulge. To suck, to lavish just as much attention on his fingers as he wants to anywhere else Viktor will deign to allow. He listens to the request, Viktor withdrawing his hand a moment later and Emet-Selch lifts an eyebrow. He'd intended to nip at his fingers, but with them removed he settles for a faint, unsatisfying little nip against Viktor's thigh once again. ]
Specifics, if you please, lest there be too much room for creative interpretation. You would like me to bite you again where? You wish to feel my aether, where? [ The bed creaks beneath them and Emet-Selch, irritatingly, misses their bed - the bed back in the Crystarium. He could make it again here but that would be far too telling and he need not be ridiculous about his indulences. ] So, let's have it, hero. Specifics.
[ The last time he says specifics, it's annunciated precisely, a little pause between each syllable, a tap of his fingers upon Viktor's bare skin. ]
no subject
[ Indulgent, molasses slow. He cannot remember the last time he felt like this - the electric hot current of want still very much there, but sated, contented in some way he has otherwise not been in ages. There's a danger to this; too much indulgence, and well. He's seen what that can do without moderation, thinks a moment later about the casual comment very Allagan of us, drinking with Viktor and the warmth of Viktor's amusement, his pleasure burns the shadow out before it even has time to settle.
Viktor tips his chin back and Emet-Selch allows it, looks up at him through a lidded gaze, the smirk still teasing at his lips. ]
I've gathered, needy thing. [ He says it like a compliment, like a pet name, and accepts the press of fingers into his mouth with a slow, soft breath out around them, and daring, once again, to indulge. To suck, to lavish just as much attention on his fingers as he wants to anywhere else Viktor will deign to allow. He listens to the request, Viktor withdrawing his hand a moment later and Emet-Selch lifts an eyebrow. He'd intended to nip at his fingers, but with them removed he settles for a faint, unsatisfying little nip against Viktor's thigh once again. ]
Specifics, if you please, lest there be too much room for creative interpretation. You would like me to bite you again where? You wish to feel my aether, where? [ The bed creaks beneath them and Emet-Selch, irritatingly, misses their bed - the bed back in the Crystarium. He could make it again here but that would be far too telling and he need not be ridiculous about his indulences. ] So, let's have it, hero. Specifics.
[ The last time he says specifics, it's annunciated precisely, a little pause between each syllable, a tap of his fingers upon Viktor's bare skin. ]