[ It's certainly something of a cheap fantasy, but that's the sort of critical thinking Dorian might attribute to the topic with a smile. His hands slide up the impressive plane of Bull's chest, privately recalling again the warm texture of his skin, the firmness of muscle beneath flesh, savouring.
At those words, in their customary low thrum, Dorian lets his fingernails be felt. His next chuckle is airy, quiet, more felt than heard. ]
What, [ he responds, his tone affected and casual ] these old things?
no subject
At those words, in their customary low thrum, Dorian lets his fingernails be felt. His next chuckle is airy, quiet, more felt than heard. ]
What, [ he responds, his tone affected and casual ] these old things?