[ Vampires were desert creatures before they were anything else, born from Akasha's curse, the call of the dry sands passed down through the blood they all share. Armand doesn't know as much about it as he should, but as he looks up into Set's eyes he's aware of a rightness in his body and soul, a feeling almost like coming home to a place he has never been.
Without protest, he allows himself to be handled, lips parting slightly as his pupils dilate like a cat's. Maker and unmaker, he would surrender himself to anything Set wished to do with him. Oblivion beckons, the silent mind of the perfect slave. ]
Yes. [ He sighs the word, a grateful supplicant. Carefully, without lowering his gaze, he reaches out a hand to skate his own fingertips up Set's thigh to his crotch, lightly stroking what he finds there. ]
no subject
Without protest, he allows himself to be handled, lips parting slightly as his pupils dilate like a cat's. Maker and unmaker, he would surrender himself to anything Set wished to do with him. Oblivion beckons, the silent mind of the perfect slave. ]
Yes. [ He sighs the word, a grateful supplicant. Carefully, without lowering his gaze, he reaches out a hand to skate his own fingertips up Set's thigh to his crotch, lightly stroking what he finds there. ]