[ He's got a retort for that, he does, but it and most other thoughts are cleared away like they never existed when Sylvain's teasing (mostly) ends. Instead it's replaced by a choked off swear even as he props himself up an an elbow for a view which certainly delivers every bit as the mouth and tongue working over his cock with all of that expertise, with every touch incrementally fraying a bit more of his composure with each building upon the last. It's too much to hold back any moans, so that's the first holding back to go.
The hands on his hips certainly prevent him from going anywhere, but that doesn't Claude doesn't still try to follow the other's mouth up to the point where it's prevented. That's enough for him to roll his head back on his neck for a second in fleeting frustration again, but once Sylvain's hand moves along his length it's right back to enjoying the view. ]
Remember what they say about payback, Gautier.
[ Threats don't sound like much of one at all when you're far past breathless from enjoyment, it turns out. His hands have crept closer, Claude realizes suddenly when the texture beneath them changes, but now it's the skirt he'd been cursing mere moments ago that he holds onto. Convenient, at least, for a stopping place in between where they were and where they might yet go, but stubbornness surfaces in not letting control be wrested from him so soon.
Or - more accurately, he's holding onto the last strands of it. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-03-17 07:12 pm (UTC)The hands on his hips certainly prevent him from going anywhere, but that doesn't Claude doesn't still try to follow the other's mouth up to the point where it's prevented. That's enough for him to roll his head back on his neck for a second in fleeting frustration again, but once Sylvain's hand moves along his length it's right back to enjoying the view. ]
Remember what they say about payback, Gautier.
[ Threats don't sound like much of one at all when you're far past breathless from enjoyment, it turns out. His hands have crept closer, Claude realizes suddenly when the texture beneath them changes, but now it's the skirt he'd been cursing mere moments ago that he holds onto. Convenient, at least, for a stopping place in between where they were and where they might yet go, but stubbornness surfaces in not letting control be wrested from him so soon.
Or - more accurately, he's holding onto the last strands of it. ]