[ That sharp nip gets an instinctive nudge of his leg away, just a twitch, but there's no squirming out of the long, blunt-nailed rake of Bull's fingers. The next exhale shivers out of him, roughing out another near-growl as recent bruises are teased even more awake, unable to do anything but prove the other man's point. Dorian's hand wanders up, feeling fingertips -- gentler -- over marks low on his neck, looking down the length of his body at Bull.
Raising an eyebrow, the easy yes caught trapped between his teeth. It's a question that brushes up against complicated underlying truths, grinding together like faulty gears. About the things he likes. The things he should like, and should not.
Instead, wry, running his ankle against Bull's hip; ] And the other parts of me aren't what I'd call delicate, rest assured.
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Raising an eyebrow, the easy yes caught trapped between his teeth. It's a question that brushes up against complicated underlying truths, grinding together like faulty gears. About the things he likes. The things he should like, and should not.
Instead, wry, running his ankle against Bull's hip; ] And the other parts of me aren't what I'd call delicate, rest assured.