[ with the way he's positioned it's hard to put up any kind of mounting protest, hard to get any kind of traction with which to fight back. the kiss is... unexpected, but there's been something simmering under his skin, some dark desire of his that had perhaps hoped, or maybe even signaled to the other man that he wanted it. the air was charged enough between them with violence that it was easy to flip it over to desire, and Childe was feeling the effects of it on himself too strongly to ignore.
he does manage to let out a muffled whine in indignation, scraping teeth roughly over Rex Lapis's lower lip with full intent to bite before there's suddenly something invading his mouth, too thick and too strong for him to fight back. he recognizes it as a tongue, but it's -- larger, so much so, and as it makes quick work of plunging in, delving deep and further to start exploring his throat he finds his breath stuttering out of his him and his hips bucking back instinctively for more.
it isn't as though he has very depraved tastes. in certain missions he was expected to put out a little to seduce some powerful figurehead - usually a woman, since Scaramouche took care of the men with certain youthful inclinations - and a few kisses here and there was nothing. sex was nothing, a transaction in the purest sense of the word, and until he'd met Zhongli he'd thought that's all there was to it.
it's probably because his current captor has such a striking resemblance to the man he'd spent the better part of last night ravishing that his body responds appropriately; he can even imagine that they taste the same, even though he's pretty sure they don't, and after enduring several long, agonizing moments of feeling his mouth and throat get violated Childe keens, voice raw and wrecked and muffled around the girth in his mouth, and rocks his hips back against the weight pressed along his backside. ]
no subject
he does manage to let out a muffled whine in indignation, scraping teeth roughly over Rex Lapis's lower lip with full intent to bite before there's suddenly something invading his mouth, too thick and too strong for him to fight back. he recognizes it as a tongue, but it's -- larger, so much so, and as it makes quick work of plunging in, delving deep and further to start exploring his throat he finds his breath stuttering out of his him and his hips bucking back instinctively for more.
it isn't as though he has very depraved tastes. in certain missions he was expected to put out a little to seduce some powerful figurehead - usually a woman, since Scaramouche took care of the men with certain youthful inclinations - and a few kisses here and there was nothing. sex was nothing, a transaction in the purest sense of the word, and until he'd met Zhongli he'd thought that's all there was to it.
it's probably because his current captor has such a striking resemblance to the man he'd spent the better part of last night ravishing that his body responds appropriately; he can even imagine that they taste the same, even though he's pretty sure they don't, and after enduring several long, agonizing moments of feeling his mouth and throat get violated Childe keens, voice raw and wrecked and muffled around the girth in his mouth, and rocks his hips back against the weight pressed along his backside. ]