[ This time, Astarion is the steady counterpart to his overstimulation. Itβs been so long since Gale dared touch himself, let alone allowed anyone near, that he rattles apart under the intensity of their closeness, every touch and word washing over him. Perfect, despite his damnation. Unworthy, in every sense of the word. Half-wounded, half-transfixed as Astarion doesnβt still, nails firm at his hip. ]
Gods. [ Mouth parted in surprise at Astarionβs display, aftershocks rolling down his spine, all the way to his cock as Astarion licks him clean. As if he canβt get enough, undeniable proof of desire, and Gale reflects the feeling back, swiftly winding an arm around Astarion. ] Astarion β [ A whimper cuts off whatever he intended to say, fingers threading through dishevelled curls, thumb straying to the tip of his ear. ]
You are sin itself. [ Breathy but admiring, as he comes down from the high that Astarion teases revisiting. ] But you must have mercy on a mere mortal, prostrate at your devilish throne.
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Gods. [ Mouth parted in surprise at Astarionβs display, aftershocks rolling down his spine, all the way to his cock as Astarion licks him clean. As if he canβt get enough, undeniable proof of desire, and Gale reflects the feeling back, swiftly winding an arm around Astarion. ] Astarion β [ A whimper cuts off whatever he intended to say, fingers threading through dishevelled curls, thumb straying to the tip of his ear. ]
You are sin itself. [ Breathy but admiring, as he comes down from the high that Astarion teases revisiting. ] But you must have mercy on a mere mortal, prostrate at your devilish throne.