( imprinting and the phenomenon of pair bonding is a desecration of what is natural; to bond with someone to survive is to muddy up the waters of human intimacy and affection. what can there be that is pure, faultless, and all based on emotion and not the need to survive?
this is why neuvillette does what he does, to remind wriothesley that what he feels for him goes beyond the confines of karteria's laws, that the progression of their feelings lie not in the urgency of imprinting and bonding, but something else.
the yoke of their duties have fallen off of them if only for awhile in here, and neuvillette can't help but admire the way wriothesley lays back in the sheets, fucking himself eagerly to little avail. he won't let him get satisfaction just yet, even if every sweet suck of his hole around his finger threatens to overwhelm him. he pushes a second finger in, nice and slow, stretching him out further and crooking his fingers within him to rub against his walls.
wriothesley's cheeks are flushed, his exasperation sweet like honey — how can neuvillette resist him when he begs that that, every filthy word spilling from kiss-bruised lips? he croons a low, humming praise before he leans over him to kiss him again, wanting the younger man to know that this is the highest form of intimacy, of what they can give each other before their natural souls take over. this is what can be trusted.
when he hears that he wants both at the same time, neuvillette shakes his head, words hot against his mouth. )
Not yet. One, first. Two will break you.
( the third finger, slippery, slick, fingertips lightly brushing over his prostate to tease. ) Do you like how this feels? You're sucking me inside so greedily, it's hard to move...
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this is why neuvillette does what he does, to remind wriothesley that what he feels for him goes beyond the confines of karteria's laws, that the progression of their feelings lie not in the urgency of imprinting and bonding, but something else.
the yoke of their duties have fallen off of them if only for awhile in here, and neuvillette can't help but admire the way wriothesley lays back in the sheets, fucking himself eagerly to little avail. he won't let him get satisfaction just yet, even if every sweet suck of his hole around his finger threatens to overwhelm him. he pushes a second finger in, nice and slow, stretching him out further and crooking his fingers within him to rub against his walls.
wriothesley's cheeks are flushed, his exasperation sweet like honey — how can neuvillette resist him when he begs that that, every filthy word spilling from kiss-bruised lips? he croons a low, humming praise before he leans over him to kiss him again, wanting the younger man to know that this is the highest form of intimacy, of what they can give each other before their natural souls take over. this is what can be trusted.
when he hears that he wants both at the same time, neuvillette shakes his head, words hot against his mouth. )
Not yet. One, first. Two will break you.
( the third finger, slippery, slick, fingertips lightly brushing over his prostate to tease. ) Do you like how this feels? You're sucking me inside so greedily, it's hard to move...