[like this, there's no way for Olivine to hide the shiver that runs through him when fingers return to his hair, lashes fluttering at the scrape of nails, the tug of soft strands. It's pleasant, a little warning or a guide or any number of other possibilities in the moment.
But Olivine is intentional with his movements, to say the least. Sylvain reacts sweetly to his teasing and it makes Olivine want to go wilder still, to see how long it takes before he gives up the semblance of control in pleasure. It's a devious thought, really; for now though, he has an apology to make. That breathy exhale pulls the twitch of a smile to Olivine's lips, and he can't help himself—carefully, the priest drags his tongue (and the piercing—okay mostly the piercing) over his slit. The sensation is totally different for him too, metal bar sliding against his tongue, and he struggles not to whine in the midst of it.]
Is it... what you hoped for?
[Olivine is good at that, too. His words are a soft, needy rumble, slightly muted by the stretch of his mouth sliding over Sylvain's cock. Impatience tugs at him to go faster, deeper—he gives in to it partly, in spite of the dedication he's taking to drag and catch the new piercing over every inch of skin it can reach.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-01-07 11:28 pm (UTC)[like this, there's no way for Olivine to hide the shiver that runs through him when fingers return to his hair, lashes fluttering at the scrape of nails, the tug of soft strands. It's pleasant, a little warning or a guide or any number of other possibilities in the moment.
But Olivine is intentional with his movements, to say the least. Sylvain reacts sweetly to his teasing and it makes Olivine want to go wilder still, to see how long it takes before he gives up the semblance of control in pleasure. It's a devious thought, really; for now though, he has an apology to make. That breathy exhale pulls the twitch of a smile to Olivine's lips, and he can't help himself—carefully, the priest drags his tongue (and the piercing—okay mostly the piercing) over his slit. The sensation is totally different for him too, metal bar sliding against his tongue, and he struggles not to whine in the midst of it.]
Is it... what you hoped for?
[Olivine is good at that, too. His words are a soft, needy rumble, slightly muted by the stretch of his mouth sliding over Sylvain's cock. Impatience tugs at him to go faster, deeper—he gives in to it partly, in spite of the dedication he's taking to drag and catch the new piercing over every inch of skin it can reach.]