[Once again, during the battle between Liem’s prudishness and his desire to let a beautiful man do whatever he wants with him, his capacity for complex thought is felled in the crossfire. Not only does he make no attempt to free his wrist from D’s grasp, but his free hand, newly emerged from his pocket with a tidy little square of fabric, goes completely motionless as well. He only watches, first surprised, and then entranced like a bird fixed in the gaze of a snake, as D slowly pulls his hand closer and slides his bloodied fingers into his mouth.
He’s startled by the wet heat of it—even warmer than D’s hand had been cupping his neck. And he’s startled by how distressingly horny he immediately feels (still; again) to have D coming back to lick up the last traces of blood he’d left the first time.
The sensual allure of him still beats, heady and insistent, low in Liem’s core. It’s making it a little hard for him to breathe.
He tilts his head to the side, because that seems better than letting D do it for him again. And if he is tense as he does it, it is only because he’s trying very hard not to indulge the urge to plaster himself against the other man and demand he do more than just tease him—because intentionally or not, that is unquestionably what D is doing.]
no subject
He’s startled by the wet heat of it—even warmer than D’s hand had been cupping his neck. And he’s startled by how distressingly horny he immediately feels (still; again) to have D coming back to lick up the last traces of blood he’d left the first time.
The sensual allure of him still beats, heady and insistent, low in Liem’s core. It’s making it a little hard for him to breathe.
He tilts his head to the side, because that seems better than letting D do it for him again. And if he is tense as he does it, it is only because he’s trying very hard not to indulge the urge to plaster himself against the other man and demand he do more than just tease him—because intentionally or not, that is unquestionably what D is doing.]