[There is a part of him that would be content alone if Aymeric finished in his throat. If it all ended there, he'd be happy with it, but instead Aymeric asks for something else. And who is he to refuse?
Slowly, Haurchefant eases off, licking his lips; they're a bit swollen, plush and pink, and he has nothing but pride for it as he sits up.]
Tell me what you want. [His voice is a shade rougher, but still adoring as he looks over what picture Aymeric makes: his blush, his eyes. How could he manage to be anymore beautiful?] Tell me, and I will do it for you.
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Slowly, Haurchefant eases off, licking his lips; they're a bit swollen, plush and pink, and he has nothing but pride for it as he sits up.]
Tell me what you want. [His voice is a shade rougher, but still adoring as he looks over what picture Aymeric makes: his blush, his eyes. How could he manage to be anymore beautiful?] Tell me, and I will do it for you.