[ Settling into Alhaitham's lap, Aether smiles. The weight of Alhaitham's hands upon his thighs is a pleasurable thing, an addiction that he has yet to shake. He wants them on his hips, his sides, his chest, his back. He wants them wrapped around his neck as the prince claims what is his by contract.
He never thought he would allow himself to become so deeply entwined with a fleeting mortal soul. ]
You're aching to touch me.
[ His voice, his intonation — he's like something out of a dream as he rolls his hips into Alhaitham's own, undulating like the ocean tides, more enchanting than any of the women available to the prince, seductive in a way that the servant-girls and dancers and concubines around him could simply never be. Each word he speaks brings the soft heat between his legs ever closer, pressed harder against Alhaitham's burgeoning interest. ]
You've tasted me before, but still, it's not enough. You need me again, laid out beneath you. Cajoling you, seducing you. Licking the wine out of your mouth. You'll have your hands all over me, claiming the territory that is by right yours. You're an avaricious man, my master... You won't rest until I'm consumed by lust for you and you alone. Hooked on your mortal pleasures. Tethered to you by ecstasy.
[ Softening just slightly, the traveler reaches out and cradles Alhaitham's face, very delicately, in his hands. His fingers barely make contact, but they ghost over the scribe's lips, touching them, caressing them. A lover's ardent affection. A guardian's tender touch. The rapturous expression on his face — it is nothing less than love. ]
One day, when you are known as a hero-king and I am a mere footnote in your history... when the people sing your name... I want to be known as Alhaitham's bride and not his favorite concubine.
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He never thought he would allow himself to become so deeply entwined with a fleeting mortal soul. ]
You're aching to touch me.
[ His voice, his intonation — he's like something out of a dream as he rolls his hips into Alhaitham's own, undulating like the ocean tides, more enchanting than any of the women available to the prince, seductive in a way that the servant-girls and dancers and concubines around him could simply never be. Each word he speaks brings the soft heat between his legs ever closer, pressed harder against Alhaitham's burgeoning interest. ]
You've tasted me before, but still, it's not enough. You need me again, laid out beneath you. Cajoling you, seducing you. Licking the wine out of your mouth. You'll have your hands all over me, claiming the territory that is by right yours. You're an avaricious man, my master... You won't rest until I'm consumed by lust for you and you alone. Hooked on your mortal pleasures. Tethered to you by ecstasy.
[ Softening just slightly, the traveler reaches out and cradles Alhaitham's face, very delicately, in his hands. His fingers barely make contact, but they ghost over the scribe's lips, touching them, caressing them. A lover's ardent affection. A guardian's tender touch. The rapturous expression on his face — it is nothing less than love. ]
One day, when you are known as a hero-king and I am a mere footnote in your history... when the people sing your name... I want to be known as Alhaitham's bride and not his favorite concubine.