[ Astarion's not sure he's ever had sex like this, unhurried, the journey more important the destination. For someone whose sexual experiences until recently were the exact opposite, it feels terribly scandalous. His neck flushes pink with pleasure as he leans his weight on Iorveth again, pressing kisses to his cheek, the bridge of his nose, his mouth. He opens Iorveth's mouth with an intruding tongue again, eager to be inside of him in every way possible. What he wants most in the world is to cut Iorveth open, stuff his love inside, and sew him back up so that he can never doubt how deeply he's loved. This will have to do, though.
'Slow' is agonizing to his body, but his mind wants nothing more than to please Iorveth, so he rocks against him at a pace that feels agonizing, pleasure building and receding. He loathes being told what to do in bed, but he finds it doesn't rankle when it's Iorveth telling him.
Grinning against Iorveth's mouth, fangs peeking out to press against the soft skin there: ] I couldn't possibly deny you. My love, [ he says in poorly-accented Aen Seidhe.
He couldn't. He's had centuries of being forced into obedience against his will, but there's only one person he'd ever willingly obey. ]
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'Slow' is agonizing to his body, but his mind wants nothing more than to please Iorveth, so he rocks against him at a pace that feels agonizing, pleasure building and receding. He loathes being told what to do in bed, but he finds it doesn't rankle when it's Iorveth telling him.
Grinning against Iorveth's mouth, fangs peeking out to press against the soft skin there: ] I couldn't possibly deny you. My love, [ he says in poorly-accented Aen Seidhe.
He couldn't. He's had centuries of being forced into obedience against his will, but there's only one person he'd ever willingly obey. ]