A touch, a nudge, a push, and caress—a dance. That’s what it reminded him of. All very subtle. Was that what Aya liked? Something less direct? That was more Ruka’s way, as far as he knew. Though, her double entendres were usually so fucking smooth most people couldn’t tell she was saying two things at once. Not his style, but he could appreciate it. Saint like the direct approach when the moment was right. But, Aya seemed to be enjoying the little tango the Fallen had begun. He knew how to play, just hadn’t done so since he was about 22 or so; the years got fuzzy after the first fifty.
It was again hard for him to resist purring, to resist shutting his eyes, and to lull into the ministrations Aya scratched into his scalp. He bit his tongue—quite literally, using the pain to stay a natural reaction he rarely never gave into. Instead, he kept that same half smile that was a cross between an almost grin and a smirk; he kept his gaze locked on the other man’s ambered orbs. It didn’t go beyond his notice that he’d pulled the zipper back up; and while it was done simply to keep them from falling off so he wouldn’t trip, the action only made the vampire want to pull them off. For Saint, it was like telling a kid not to touch a button and them leaving them along with said button. His hands itched with it; so, to keep from giving in too much, he let them rest on Aya’s waist. It was just in such a way that the shirt he wore slid up so skin touched skin.
Much better.
Still, he considered what his lover had said in response. The latter thing he’d said, the Fallen, wasn’t so much of a concern. But, like a cat with a ball of yard, he leapt on the former. “And what would ya do to me, Aya? Hm..?
“What,” he emphasized with his voice just a hint more cultured than usual, as if to make it all more poignant, “would you want to do to me?”
<font color="#e6c519]Likèreal was perhaps being a tad subtle, though he wasn’t always. Still the double meaning within his words brought him amusement, and in a strange way Saint seemed almost feline at such times. He’d suit a cat. Though his feline presence was amplified by the fact that his vampire lover tended to purr and make the most interesting noises from time to time. Noises that he was purposefully refusing to make tonight it seemed.
He continued to lightly scratch and rub his fingertips into the inky strands and against his scalp with an amused smile, even as he met the dual gaze of emerald and sapphire. Saint was beautiful, it was the word that sprung to mind as he admired the male in front of him, though his attraction was as much personality as physical.
Things were never boring, never too quiet when Saint was around.
The Fallen was unaware that his actions created an instinctive desire to strip him in Saint, though he wouldn’t complain in the least. However, he was aware of the fact that Saint wanted to touch him despite his admirable self-control when cool fingers settled against the flesh of his waist.
Likèreal didn’t mention it, instead he just quietly hummed in enjoyment from the touch though his lips curved into a smile. He dipped his head, tongue flicking out across the curve of his ear before whispering against the sensitive flesh, “What wouldn’t I want to do…isn’t that the better question?”
His hands slid down the other male’s back and he tugged him closer once more, thumbs curling beneath the bands of the back of Saint’s pants to lightly brush teasingly over sensitive flesh. “I always want to touch you and kiss you…it’s almost sinful just how tempting you are,” his voice like velvet as he nipped at his ear, “I had planned more than a rendezvous to ravish you…but you make it all seem so much less important.”[/font]
Resisting was not something he did unless he was teasing himself to get a better nut. Or, if the party in question rebuffed his advances; it didn’t happen often, but some people just didn’t like his brand of fuckin. Some people just didn’t think he was their type. Sometimes he wasn’t. Though, Saint rarely met a personality he couldn’t stroke the right way to get what he wanted, to give someone what they wanted. It happened, and those were likely the only times he pulled himself away… naturally to find more receptive pastures.
Everyone was different, right? He wanted to see what Aya would do if he gave the reins over a bit, if he pulled against his own nature. Would it turn the Fallen on to chase him a bit? After all, Saint wasn’t alien to holding back, not entirely. He just wasn’t accustomed to pushing back the desire to purr, to move his body in the direction of another’s caress; he wasn’t used to pulling back on the very nature his Beast was overtly inclined to, as she inclined him to.
But, he couldn’t quite hold back the way he gasped when that careful tongue slid along his ear. His eyes shut with it and the grip on Aya’s waist immediately snapped tighter; his nails just barely bit into skin as he exhaled and his body shuddered once with the whisper of his breath—his words. The combination of such promises with the wet of his mouth, the nip of his teeth, and he felt a little dizzy with it as he allowed himself to be—even so, all of that shot a bolt straight to his cock.
Still, his body flexed noticeably as he still refused to purr; his Beast was having a field day, half cursing him and half laughing at him.
“…Ya make it… sound like it’s… m’fault,” he managed softly, wondering what he’d do next.
It was again hard for him to resist purring, to resist shutting his eyes, and to lull into the ministrations Aya scratched into his scalp. He bit his tongue—quite literally, using the pain to stay a natural reaction he rarely never gave into. Instead, he kept that same half smile that was a cross between an almost grin and a smirk; he kept his gaze locked on the other man’s ambered orbs. It didn’t go beyond his notice that he’d pulled the zipper back up; and while it was done simply to keep them from falling off so he wouldn’t trip, the action only made the vampire want to pull them off. For Saint, it was like telling a kid not to touch a button and them leaving them along with said button. His hands itched with it; so, to keep from giving in too much, he let them rest on Aya’s waist. It was just in such a way that the shirt he wore slid up so skin touched skin.
Much better.
Still, he considered what his lover had said in response. The latter thing he’d said, the Fallen, wasn’t so much of a concern. But, like a cat with a ball of yard, he leapt on the former. “And what would ya do to me, Aya? Hm..?
“What,” he emphasized with his voice just a hint more cultured than usual, as if to make it all more poignant, “would you want to do to me?”
<font color="#e6c519]Likèreal was perhaps being a tad subtle, though he wasn’t always. Still the double meaning within his words brought him amusement, and in a strange way Saint seemed almost feline at such times. He’d suit a cat. Though his feline presence was amplified by the fact that his vampire lover tended to purr and make the most interesting noises from time to time. Noises that he was purposefully refusing to make tonight it seemed.
He continued to lightly scratch and rub his fingertips into the inky strands and against his scalp with an amused smile, even as he met the dual gaze of emerald and sapphire. Saint was beautiful, it was the word that sprung to mind as he admired the male in front of him, though his attraction was as much personality as physical.
Things were never boring, never too quiet when Saint was around.
The Fallen was unaware that his actions created an instinctive desire to strip him in Saint, though he wouldn’t complain in the least. However, he was aware of the fact that Saint wanted to touch him despite his admirable self-control when cool fingers settled against the flesh of his waist.
Likèreal didn’t mention it, instead he just quietly hummed in enjoyment from the touch though his lips curved into a smile. He dipped his head, tongue flicking out across the curve of his ear before whispering against the sensitive flesh, “What wouldn’t I want to do…isn’t that the better question?”
His hands slid down the other male’s back and he tugged him closer once more, thumbs curling beneath the bands of the back of Saint’s pants to lightly brush teasingly over sensitive flesh. “I always want to touch you and kiss you…it’s almost sinful just how tempting you are,” his voice like velvet as he nipped at his ear, “I had planned more than a rendezvous to ravish you…but you make it all seem so much less important.”[/font]
Resisting was not something he did unless he was teasing himself to get a better nut. Or, if the party in question rebuffed his advances; it didn’t happen often, but some people just didn’t like his brand of fuckin. Some people just didn’t think he was their type. Sometimes he wasn’t. Though, Saint rarely met a personality he couldn’t stroke the right way to get what he wanted, to give someone what they wanted. It happened, and those were likely the only times he pulled himself away… naturally to find more receptive pastures.
Everyone was different, right? He wanted to see what Aya would do if he gave the reins over a bit, if he pulled against his own nature. Would it turn the Fallen on to chase him a bit? After all, Saint wasn’t alien to holding back, not entirely. He just wasn’t accustomed to pushing back the desire to purr, to move his body in the direction of another’s caress; he wasn’t used to pulling back on the very nature his Beast was overtly inclined to, as she inclined him to.
But, he couldn’t quite hold back the way he gasped when that careful tongue slid along his ear. His eyes shut with it and the grip on Aya’s waist immediately snapped tighter; his nails just barely bit into skin as he exhaled and his body shuddered once with the whisper of his breath—his words. The combination of such promises with the wet of his mouth, the nip of his teeth, and he felt a little dizzy with it as he allowed himself to be—even so, all of that shot a bolt straight to his cock.
Still, his body flexed noticeably as he still refused to purr; his Beast was having a field day, half cursing him and half laughing at him.
“…Ya make it… sound like it’s… m’fault,” he managed softly, wondering what he’d do next.
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