[While unreserved in the taking of pleasure, always, wanting to burn his fingerprints into Hector's skin and wander the landscape of his body, all his planes and valleys and ridges of bone, mapping everything he missed the first time around, what that pleasure does to him and undoes is something he doesn't readily show. Bitten-off moans, muscles working in his jaw, his throat -- he doesn't give Hector much more than what he offered succubi, incubi, who had often taken it as a challenge. His eyes stay closed, his pulse leaping behind the skim of Hector's teeth at his neck. His skin has already pinked.]
'twould be in your best interest...
[There's a velvety growl in his voice and it becomes clear he won't dismiss Crimson for Abel, not this time. But even as he says it he's easing Hector back over the rough cave floor, hitching his blood-stiff tunic up and up to lay his mouth over him, hot and wet and open over all the places where bones lie closest to skin he's broken and bruised.]
no subject
'twould be in your best interest...
[There's a velvety growl in his voice and it becomes clear he won't dismiss Crimson for Abel, not this time. But even as he says it he's easing Hector back over the rough cave floor, hitching his blood-stiff tunic up and up to lay his mouth over him, hot and wet and open over all the places where bones lie closest to skin he's broken and bruised.]