[ With a stiff grunt Childe falls back, lips glistening wetly in the aftermath. Lips press to the swell of a cheek before Zhongli can get too far away, and once the brunet has shifted down to reposition himself over the Harbinger’s hungry cock he readjusts his hands so they’re resting on the the foreigner’s hips instead.
Chide watches, breath held, as elegant fingers frame the shaft below, committing the image to memory. It looks almost like something out of an erotic picture. Something that should be immortalized in canvas with vibrant stokes of brush and paints. He thinks he knows an artist in the next village over who frequently did work for the Tsaritsa. Perhaps he could be persuaded with mora …
Ignoring the way his dick twitches in Zhongli’s hand, Childe turns his attention to the man above him. The way the other’s cheeks are still flushed with pleasure prompts heat to unfurl in his stomach, and his lips part for one breathless moment as though he wants to say something.
He’s never been stingy with his compliments. Zhongli knows how enamored he was with him, or if he didn’t he probably had an idea. But now, for whatever reason, Childe couldn’t think of a single thing to say to fill the moment.
He wants this. He wants this bad.
His fingers tighten over the foreigner’s hips and he draws in a shaky inhale, and only then does a single word fall from his lips. ]
no subject
Chide watches, breath held, as elegant fingers frame the shaft below, committing the image to memory. It looks almost like something out of an erotic picture. Something that should be immortalized in canvas with vibrant stokes of brush and paints. He thinks he knows an artist in the next village over who frequently did work for the Tsaritsa. Perhaps he could be persuaded with mora …
Ignoring the way his dick twitches in Zhongli’s hand, Childe turns his attention to the man above him. The way the other’s cheeks are still flushed with pleasure prompts heat to unfurl in his stomach, and his lips part for one breathless moment as though he wants to say something.
He’s never been stingy with his compliments. Zhongli knows how enamored he was with him, or if he didn’t he probably had an idea. But now, for whatever reason, Childe couldn’t think of a single thing to say to fill the moment.
He wants this. He wants this bad.
His fingers tighten over the foreigner’s hips and he draws in a shaky inhale, and only then does a single word fall from his lips. ]
Please…