“Mhm,” answered Vesper to the tea, before he gave that speech.
Now that he was by Arkash’ side, he could feel the man softening through those greasy scales against his touch, the tang of copper suffusing his nostrils intensely. It made his head swim, but he didn’t mind — the Brotherhood of Scaeva was into that, too.
“Well,” Vesper said with a rasping growl. “They would be right; I’m the maddest of them all.”
Eyes drifting shut as the clawed hand rolled down his shoulder, Vesper shuddered softly into the closeness, ears flattened by a scaly cheek. He glanced up, button nose pushing into a tooth with a cold bump. “I’ll save them for last . . . unless they get in the way,” he elaborated. He was getting all these feelings again, the joyous and flirtatious parts of his mind awakening to the touch.
“A Mark to bend Minds, a Mark to bend Dreams, and a Mark to bend Blood,” waxed Vesper poetically when the lizard hummed, before he was drawn in, that smaller frame all but devoured by the larger lizard’s stature. His cheeks tightened, lips curling into a hazy smile as he buried himself in the scales, stains of red melting out of the corner of his half-laden eyes before they audibly spattered harmlessly out to the grass beyond. He could hear it hiss in the flames, and he looked up against that mountain of lizard with those yellow orbs, peering over him until the embrace tightened, and he found his ear to the scales of a throat.
Vesper brought his paws up, squeezing lightly at that larger frame as unlikely passions stirred between his legs. The promise of power excited him, but then so did a powerful man. It didn’t matter what Arkash looked like, or smelled like, or even what he had done.
Not to Vesper.
Uttering a purring thrum from his chest, Vesper tightened his hold over the lizard, sharing the bed of heat his fur stored within its roots from the firelight. “And maybe I will show you a world of dreams where everything is possible in return,” he told Arkash.
Now that he was by Arkash’ side, he could feel the man softening through those greasy scales against his touch, the tang of copper suffusing his nostrils intensely. It made his head swim, but he didn’t mind — the Brotherhood of Scaeva was into that, too.
“Well,” Vesper said with a rasping growl. “They would be right; I’m the maddest of them all.”
Eyes drifting shut as the clawed hand rolled down his shoulder, Vesper shuddered softly into the closeness, ears flattened by a scaly cheek. He glanced up, button nose pushing into a tooth with a cold bump. “I’ll save them for last . . . unless they get in the way,” he elaborated. He was getting all these feelings again, the joyous and flirtatious parts of his mind awakening to the touch.
“A Mark to bend Minds, a Mark to bend Dreams, and a Mark to bend Blood,” waxed Vesper poetically when the lizard hummed, before he was drawn in, that smaller frame all but devoured by the larger lizard’s stature. His cheeks tightened, lips curling into a hazy smile as he buried himself in the scales, stains of red melting out of the corner of his half-laden eyes before they audibly spattered harmlessly out to the grass beyond. He could hear it hiss in the flames, and he looked up against that mountain of lizard with those yellow orbs, peering over him until the embrace tightened, and he found his ear to the scales of a throat.
Vesper brought his paws up, squeezing lightly at that larger frame as unlikely passions stirred between his legs. The promise of power excited him, but then so did a powerful man. It didn’t matter what Arkash looked like, or smelled like, or even what he had done.
Not to Vesper.
Uttering a purring thrum from his chest, Vesper tightened his hold over the lizard, sharing the bed of heat his fur stored within its roots from the firelight. “And maybe I will show you a world of dreams where everything is possible in return,” he told Arkash.
