[She says his name and he turns his head, tries to find her mouth to swallow whatever she might say next and twists his hips in a way that he knows makes women squirm and kisses her, and kisses her.
This is better than the wine that is still sticky on her mouth and his, this is better than the warmth of the water that's pooled around his calves. Her skin almost burns against his; he knows he'll be thinking of her when he's wrapped in his furs later.
The pain from her claws, like a bird, that only makes it better.]
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This is better than the wine that is still sticky on her mouth and his, this is better than the warmth of the water that's pooled around his calves. Her skin almost burns against his; he knows he'll be thinking of her when he's wrapped in his furs later.
The pain from her claws, like a bird, that only makes it better.]
That's-
Just like that, gods-
[He mutters it against her mouth, greedy.]