[ Wherever the vampire’s touch goes, it leaves a trail of fire in its wake, even through Winter’s clothes – clothes that he is becoming all the more eager to be rid of.
He hums a little, the sound heated, when Astarion’s hand dips southward. Though he’s still off the mark, his touch is enticing. Electric. No matter where it roams. ]
Oh, that’s very good, but no. You’ve gotten colder.
[ He lifts his head to nip at Astarion’s earlobe. ]
no subject
He hums a little, the sound heated, when Astarion’s hand dips southward. Though he’s still off the mark, his touch is enticing. Electric. No matter where it roams. ]
Oh, that’s very good, but no. You’ve gotten colder.
[ He lifts his head to nip at Astarion’s earlobe. ]
Do you want a hint?
[ (Where his mouth is at right now is a hint.) ]