[ That friction is satisfying, no doubt, the slide of a warm, firm thigh against his cock coaxing a curl of heat from the pit of his stomach, and there's a deliberate drag of his hips to show for it. Pressing right up against the crease of Dorian's thigh, even as he teases those blood-dark blushes to Dorian's skin.
Because he's not just marking him. Those marks are gonna be toyed with, teased, until that sensitivity borders on too much. He means to feel that pulse hitch when he bites, and makes his way downwards only once he does.
There's the briefest of pauses to glance upwards, to catch Dorian's eyes and grin, before teeth pinch at the next little patch of flesh to carry his mark. ]
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Because he's not just marking him. Those marks are gonna be toyed with, teased, until that sensitivity borders on too much. He means to feel that pulse hitch when he bites, and makes his way downwards only once he does.
There's the briefest of pauses to glance upwards, to catch Dorian's eyes and grin, before teeth pinch at the next little patch of flesh to carry his mark. ]