[ Lucius feels the wanting press of his consort's form, and in the pit of his stomach, it lights a hungering urge all his own—to consume, rather than to be consumed by his lover's own flesh. His teeth lift, allowing that drawn blood to run free, and his overlong tongue slithers from between his lips instead—except, it isn't to lap up the incarnadine spilled across ruddy flesh. Slick muscle run along Eridanus' neck, over its beating pulse and across the swell at the front of his throat, and for that moment, its dexterous length feels like nothing so much as a serpent ready to coil around the ribs of a mouse.
He can feel the vibration of Eridanus' words where they rumble through the tunnel of his throat, and so chaste as is the request that comes, it only itches the edges of his claws and the tips of his teeth. His own hands find Eridanus' hips, the tips of his fingers biting down as he forces himself to draw his lips away from his consort's vulnerable throat. ]
No, I suppose they shouldn't. [ His lips curl back; the forked tip of his tongue drags across the front of his teeth. As though such were a benediction of its own, Lucius answers, ] Very well. If that is what you desire, you may lay your gift upon my flesh.
no subject
He can feel the vibration of Eridanus' words where they rumble through the tunnel of his throat, and so chaste as is the request that comes, it only itches the edges of his claws and the tips of his teeth. His own hands find Eridanus' hips, the tips of his fingers biting down as he forces himself to draw his lips away from his consort's vulnerable throat. ]
No, I suppose they shouldn't. [ His lips curl back; the forked tip of his tongue drags across the front of his teeth. As though such were a benediction of its own, Lucius answers, ] Very well. If that is what you desire, you may lay your gift upon my flesh.