[ Dorian wants to commit this moment to memory; of Orym’s body pressing into his own, the feeling of the halfling’s hands across his skin, the delicious sounds he makes. If this was going to be the last they could have for a while, he wanted to make sure they would both look back on it fondly.
And hearing those words on Orym’s lips has him shivering, and he works the spot more firmly with his teeth until a mark blossoms, before running over the spot with his tongue.
Then his hands briefly draw away from Orym, just enough to shrug out of his shirt before they return, rucking up Orym’s shirt now as his hands explore the plane of his body. ]
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And hearing those words on Orym’s lips has him shivering, and he works the spot more firmly with his teeth until a mark blossoms, before running over the spot with his tongue.
Then his hands briefly draw away from Orym, just enough to shrug out of his shirt before they return, rucking up Orym’s shirt now as his hands explore the plane of his body. ]