Yussa is a mess, Caleb has made a mess of him, and it is ridiculously hot. Never has he seen his lover so wrecked in quite this way before, and he relishes it. Releasing his slowly softening cock, Caleb instead traces fingertips lightly up the back of one adorned thigh, wiping a smatter of come from the other man's skin where it has landed across the henna design there. Rather than raising it to his own lips, as perhaps Yussa might expect, he reaches down and presses his fingers to Yussa's lips instead--then past them, if he'll allow it.
Clearly he hasn't gotten off yet, and he isn't going to. Gods, why is that so appealing? The way he grinds his hips down against the bolster is half-hearted at best, more a reflex than trying to achieve a goal, resigned. Caleb actively suppresses his first instinct, which is to do something about that himself. That isn't the way he is playing right now.
When he at last feels coherent enough himself, he speaks up. His voice is a low rasp still, but softer. Almost sweet, despite the utterly filthy way he strokes Yussa's tongue with his fingers. "I know you are exhausted, schatz," he says, "but we should clean up before we rest." Even if they don't sleep, taking an hour or two to relax and cuddle and recover is essential if they wish to continue later. Which Caleb very much does. He paid for the night, and he is going to have it.
Conveniently, this room has a beautiful bathing pool set into the center of the floor. Caleb noticed it when he came in, flower petals drifting on the surface of the water, a basket on ledge containing everything needed for a pricy courtesan to pamper himself or his client.
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Clearly he hasn't gotten off yet, and he isn't going to. Gods, why is that so appealing? The way he grinds his hips down against the bolster is half-hearted at best, more a reflex than trying to achieve a goal, resigned. Caleb actively suppresses his first instinct, which is to do something about that himself. That isn't the way he is playing right now.
When he at last feels coherent enough himself, he speaks up. His voice is a low rasp still, but softer. Almost sweet, despite the utterly filthy way he strokes Yussa's tongue with his fingers. "I know you are exhausted, schatz," he says, "but we should clean up before we rest." Even if they don't sleep, taking an hour or two to relax and cuddle and recover is essential if they wish to continue later. Which Caleb very much does. He paid for the night, and he is going to have it.
Conveniently, this room has a beautiful bathing pool set into the center of the floor. Caleb noticed it when he came in, flower petals drifting on the surface of the water, a basket on ledge containing everything needed for a pricy courtesan to pamper himself or his client.