[ Astarion's become more physically sensitive since they all acquired the mixed blessing of their tadpoles. A vampire spawn's sense of sight, smell, hearing are all heightened, sharp for the hunt; but touch gets worn down, blunted in undeath. Maybe Cazador carved him so ruthlessly to test what he could still feel.
Astarion's faked pleasure for so long that the real thing threatens a tidal pull of overwhelm, rocking helplessly into the slick heat of Gale's palm, his clever fingers. He can't think, can't speak, Gale's words and touch like arcs of lightning through Astarion's core, his fingers pulling sharp at Gale's hair and twisting into the sheets at his hip for an anchor.
Soft whimpers, his lashes wet. Astarion can feel the press of Gale's cock against his back and wants, for the first time since -- He can't remember. All he knows is the pleasure knotting rapidly in his gut, maybe shamefully so; the way he trembles, thighs shaking. ]
Gale, I'm -- [ Astarion's never had the words punched out of him like this, breathless, unable and unwilling to ask him to wait. His hips buck, so close so soon. ]
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Astarion's faked pleasure for so long that the real thing threatens a tidal pull of overwhelm, rocking helplessly into the slick heat of Gale's palm, his clever fingers. He can't think, can't speak, Gale's words and touch like arcs of lightning through Astarion's core, his fingers pulling sharp at Gale's hair and twisting into the sheets at his hip for an anchor.
Soft whimpers, his lashes wet. Astarion can feel the press of Gale's cock against his back and wants, for the first time since -- He can't remember. All he knows is the pleasure knotting rapidly in his gut, maybe shamefully so; the way he trembles, thighs shaking. ]
Gale, I'm -- [ Astarion's never had the words punched out of him like this, breathless, unable and unwilling to ask him to wait. His hips buck, so close so soon. ]