[ It's strange. The tighter his bonds become, the more he feels as though he can relax, as if the tension is being made up for elsewhere and is no longer strictly needed to keep going. The sensation only grows stronger as Wrathion presses in at his back, the warmth of his skin almost startling against his own for how long he's been standing here untouched otherwise.
Anduin sighs at the contact, head bowing slightly, the loose fringe of blond that frames his face falling gently over his eyes, but it doesn't matter. All he wants is to feel this, strange and unfamiliar but welcome all the same. When nudged to sit, he does so without hesitation, though the way the rope moves as he does is interesting all its own.
He's careful in how he settles himself down on the edge, before looking up questioningly. It can't be his imagination, the heat he's seeing in Wrathion's normally inscrutable expression.
Tongue darting briefly over his lips, he shakes his head. ]
...no, that's alright. I'd rather see once you're finished.
[He joins him upon the bed, crawling around until he is flush behind him again. Whatever barriers had previously existed that kept him from engaging quite so intimately in the past have fallen away -- Wrathion remains flush against the other man's back, humming some abstract tune as he continues to tie the gauntlet ladder up his forearms. Of course, he could have done this in the position they were previously in.
But presently, this is preferable, even as his lips occasionally fall to the crown of his head, or the shell of his ear.
When the gauntlet is complete, he leans back just enough to loosen the chest harness some at the junction near the back of his neck, noting that the tightness nearly prevents him from sliding his fingers beneath it to explore the slightly chaffed skin.]
[ It's such a marked change, Anduin almost laughs. They've been together a handful of times since he'd arrived in the city, but affection had always been something Wrathion seemed uncomfortable with, or barely tolerant of, eager to be done with. A far cry from the warm support at his back, or the almost idle brush of his lips.
If he'd only known this was all it took. ]
Perhaps we should have done this sooner.
[ He can't help the soft and somewhat incredulous smile that passes over his lips as he lists into the touch, the rest of the tension in his body unraveling as the ropes pull tighter. He doesn't care if it's too tight, if it rubs his skin a little red and raw in places. Discomfort is an old friend by now, and this feels good and right in ways he couldn't have possibly thought of before now.
Perhaps this is freeing for the both of them, in some way. ]
[Wrathion doesn't offer a reply to the comment immediately, instead choosing to rest his chin upon the other man's shoulder while his hands snake around to join Anduin under the knots he had just finished tying. The tightness at which they were tied doesn't quite offer him the ability to get his arms through the loops all the way, but they are wide enough to allow him to hold. He stays there in silence for a long moment, despite the fact that the other man would likely be able to feel his heart hammering against his spine.]
I was not ready.
[It is a quiet admission, in a tone that suggests he still isn't certain that he is doing the correct thing by engaging with this. But there is no room to question that he enjoys it as he tips his head forward to rest his face against the crook of his neck.]
[ There's no question. If he didn't want this or enjoy this, he wouldn't have offered. They wouldn't be this deep into it. As uncertain as he may still feel, he was willing to try, and Anduin can't help but be glad for that fact. Admittedly it's an odd thing to feel gratitude for.
But they'd never done anything by conventional means, had they?
There's a reassuring tilt of his head, bumping against Wrathion's with a tickling sweep of soft blond hair, and as much as he can move his fingers to run against the dragon's fingers, he does. ]
[The bump of his head encourages him to lift his eyes again, staring down the hallway in quiet contemplation as he feels his body begin to warm Anduin's to a level that may, perhaps, discomfort the human. He unwinds just enough to allow his skin to breath, cheek still pressed against the other man's head.
There are things he still wants to say. Things he is still figuring out exactly how to say.
As a result, the withdrawing of his hands from the rope is slower and more deliberate.]
[ The heat has him feeling a little drowsy, as the hot springs in Pandaria once did. The loss of it is immediately felt, but he doesn't try to pursue, instead nodding in answer to the question with another slow wriggle of his fingers. ]
If you're finished.
[ Whatever dwells in Wrathion's mind will come in time, or it won't. He's accepted that by now, patient to the last, but it's an unspoken relief to see even this much from him, to feel that sense of want and affection from him to remind him that this is still very much evenly felt between them. ]
[As if to confirm, Wrathion pushes himself up on his knees and moves around him, hooking his fingers into the harness to pull Anduin upright so that he does not have to struggle for balance without the use of his arms. Leading from there to the full length mirror in the corner of the room is easy -- though spotting his image within might be a little challenging in the low light.
A snap of his fingers lights a small spark, enough to illuminate the pair of them -- Anduin in the foreground, and Wrathion himself behind. The sight encourages Wrathion to rest his head back down upon him, though his free hand remains hooked in the ropework at the king's back.
It was a simple thing -- it could get more complex. He'd seen as much. But that was some of the beauty of it. As much as he might have appeared to have planned the entire evening, there was a sense of spontaneity to it.]
If only everyone could be so fortunate as I, to be blessed with such a view.
[ Never overly fond of his own reflection -- the scars bother him, even now -- he still finds it hard to argue.
The initial curiosity had been the ropework, which is of course stunning. But the elegant crisscrossed pattern of crimson rope over his body highlights the curve of hard-earned muscle, the slender jut of his hips, the flat slope of his stomach, and perfectly frame his half-hard cock. He can see when the tension lies with Wrathion's fingers curled into the knots at his back, the faint dig of the rope into his skin.
Though often told how attractive he is by others, this might be the first time he feels it might be true. Wrathion's pleased expression hovering over his shoulder certainly helps, and once his eyes trail back up to meet the dragon's gaze in the mirror he feels his face flush. ]
This was your first?
[ It's flawlessly done, so far as he can tell of such things. ]
[His free hand sips around from the back of the harness to trace the pattern he'd made across his chest, a careful study of his own handiwork.]
It was.
[He has no problem admitting that. Perhaps it was not so surprising -- after all, it was a fairly intimate act. His first attempt at it couldn't be with just anyone.
His eyes drop lower, his smirk stretching just a bit more when he spots that Anduin is, in fact, still aroused. Wrathion's own cock remains out of view, but given that he cannot seem to keep his hands off of him...well.]
[ It's no matter if he can see or not. When Wrathion's eyes stray lower, Anduin leans slightly back into him, and it's no trouble at all to tell exactly what the Black Prince makes of his handiwork. ]
[Anduin's choice to lean back is met with a steady tightening of his grip upon the ropes beneath his fingers. He'd been focused on his task, up until now. Now there is nothing but what he's created, and their shared arousal.]
It could be better. But I suppose practice makes perfect.
[His hands drag backwards, one finger tracing down the other man's spine between the rope until it finds his tailbone. He knows very well what he wants -- but he also knows that this is not about him. More importantly, there was a high chance that he would harm Anduin if he tried anything particularly strenuous while he was still tied.
The sigh behind him is heavy, and he lowers his mouth to press another kiss to his shoulder. And then another upon his neck as he relocates to the front of him, finding a grip on the ropes again to pull him him for a deep kiss.]
[ He can't reach as he wound have, to curl a hand to the back of Wrathion's neck, to pull him in and press in for all he was worth. He thinks to, on instinct, but is quickly reminded of his limits in this position.
He doubts he could pull back out of Wrathion's grip if he wanted to.
Not that he wants to. Despite the initial realization of how compromised he was like this, Anduin still tilts his head, fearlessly seeking the warm press of Wrathion's mouth. He doesn't care, and in fact he can feel himself stirring against the ropes.
For once, it's not up to him, save for that one word. The decision is out of his hands. Exactly as he wished it to be. ]
[Wrathion flicks the spell out of his occupied hand to leave it hovering somewhere nearby so that he might steady the other man with both. Despite the feverish state he seems to be in suddenly, he takes great care in moving his hands over and between the ropes, fingertips grazing whatever patch of skin they happen to find until they settle at his hips.
Slowly, he lowers himself to his knees, vaguely aware of how his own length has begun to grow heavy between his legs. But there would be time for that later. Right now, he's got Anduin precisely where he wants him -- tied, in front of a mirror, with Wrathion himself on his knees and yet somehow still in control of the situation.
There is little pretense this time when he leans in to kiss above the rope near the inside of his right thigh, and his head tilts up just enough to brush against the hands still bound in front of him.]
[ Just enough for his fingers to catch against those dark curls, but not enough to grasp. A tease if anything.
With a deep breath Anduin tears his gaze away from where Wrathion's mouth warms his skin, only to see the exact image in the mirror in front of him. How positively obscene they look together.
How breathtaking.
His eyes dart back almost at once, choosing instead to fix on the glow of Wrathion's eyes as best as he could see, considering the angle. ]
[Wrathion continues his quest, plucking at the rope with his teeth until his tongue finds the underside of Anduin's cock. He is not necessarily surprised to find that he is already half hard -- and part of him wonders how much is due to him being rope drunk, and how much of it is simply a result of the uniquely intimate nature of his choices this evening.
He does not have the frame of mind to think of it for too long just now. Instead, he slowly indulges in sliding his tone straight from base to tip, exhaling the heavy heat that has coiled in his lungs.
On his way up, those glowing red eyes catch his stare -- and he holds it in a most daring way as he works his lips and his tongue back downwards.]
[ There's a noise caught in the next exhale of breath, strained slightly as his fingers curl in towards his palms. It feels like the heat of those burning eyes is swallowing him whole, and there's little he can do but watch as Wrathion makes his desires known. Any attempt at movement expires in a momentary flex of muscle against the cords, before surrendering to their hold once again.
Of course that half-stirring is further encouraged by his work. The dragon's wicked tongue is seemingly all that's needed to get him to grow fully hard, teeth sinking into the edge of his lip to steady himself on his feet. ]
[He will remember the way he squirms in those bindings later, and how quickly he surrenders that control to him. One hand wraps firmly around his own cock, unable to leave it completely unattended in the face of all of this work he's done. Even his normal levels of careful self control will not allow it.
He just. Needs to hold it. It will help his patience.
The sound of his name causes him to rise slightly upward upon his knees, hands drifting from his hips to the small of his back to stabilize his balance. In retrospect, this would have been more practically done on the bed -- but practicality isn't really what is driving him, at the present.
The desire swims in his eyes, which drift shut briefly as he reangles his mouth to take him past his lips, as he had done once before. This time, he has learned how best to mind his teeth, which leaves him to focus instead on a steady and slow rhythm. His tongue remains flat beneath him and his cheeks hollow out with the effort to swallow him down the next time his lips part to accept him.]
[ He's learned. Because of course he has. Had he thought of doing this again? It's a heady thought, that Wrathion might have let his thoughts linger on such a thing when Anduin wasn't there, and when the dragon reaches down to touch himself through the thin fabric of his pants...
Another soft noise catches in his throat, eyes flickering momentarily shut as that incredible warmth draws him in. He's close enough now that he can wind his fingers through his hair at last, but without much room to guide or encourage. Simply to hold, fingertips curling against his scalp with a shivery exhale passing over parted lips.
If this is what he wants? It's his. He could ask for anything right now, surely he knows that. ]
[The sound he coaxes from Anduin is all the encouragement he needs with the adrenaline spike in his blood, but the tied hands reaching to card through his hair certainly offers its own appeal. It is enough to encourage him to experiment with taking more of him, relaxing his lower jaw as much as he is able. A slow descent, until he can feel him approaching the back of his throat.
And he holds there for a long moment, perfectly content with it until the exact moment he isn't, at which point he retreats again. When his mouth comes off of his cock, a string of saliva carries with it, stuck to his pointed canines. All the while, the hand between his own legs continues a much slower stroke -- just enough to take the edge off.
Wrathion's head comes to rest against his inner thigh, one arm still braced to steady him.]
I would like to move to to the bed ... it would be a shame if you were to collapse here when I am through.
[There is a sultry note of calm that has been previously absent during their other sexual escapades -- the certain confidence that comes with being in complete control.]
[ It's a good look for him, admittedly. Though used to Wrathon's general bravado, this is a different animal entirely. The sensuality of it is deliberate, the way his lips glisten wetly as he draws back and the slow burn of his gaze, as if daring him not to look away.
There's no hiding how pink he is now, even in the low light. The ropes strain with the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, which of course tugs at everything else, tightening those knots and pulling them closer and he can feel where it hitches up between his thighs in time with those shortened breaths.
Close to where Wrathion is currently resting his head, at the moment. ]
Somehow...I don't think you'd mind all that much.
[ It would certainly be a boost to his ego, wouldn't it? ]
Perhaps not. But I imagine it might dampen your desire to reattempt, if I were so careless.
[He is not entirely unaware of the concept that actions have consequences -- he is just used to avoiding them for as long as possible while still doing exactly what he wants.
Still, he's declared his intent, which means Anduin will have to wait a moment longer to have Wrathion's attention back upon his cock. The dragon stands, stretching upwards as he does, and proceeds to guide him back to the mattress. The light near the mirror fades as he puts distance between them and the spell.
When they reach the bed, Wrathion has the presence of mind to guide Anduin down to his back this time rather than just sitting him upright. Once that is done, he returns a hand to massaging his cock, spreading the saliva already present rather than adding to it. He has better control of the progression of things, this way.
But that does not stop his tongue from sliding thoughtfully across his canines.]
After all, there exists an entire library of additional things to add to the...experience.
[ The moments between are actually a boon. It lets him settle back into his own skin once more, catching his breath as his bare feet pad across the carpet.
He can't help but be grateful he'd chosen to have his hands tied in front when Wrathion presses him back into the sheets, and Anduin draws up a knee to catch his heel on the edge of the mattress, pulling himself up as best he can to make room. The dragon has all the appearance of a large predatory animal settling in for a meal, the way he drapes himself nearby with his gaze full of promise.
The blond's tongue darts over his lips almost in answer, eyelids fluttering slightly at the renewed touch to his cock, now fully hard and standing proudly, glistening wetly in the candlelight as strong, warm fingers wind and glide around him. ]
You sound like you have something in mind, already...
[ Harder to tease when he already sounds a little breathless. ]
[His hand continues to shuttle lazily, the other gently playing across his chest and pausing to flick a nipple as his fingers wander past. The dragon's eyes lift to the ajar armoire, but he makes no movement to lift himself. Additional accoutrement could be introduced at another hour.
He does not want to leave him tied for longer than necessary. Even with his hands tied in front of him, it wouldn't be too long before his bones found fatigue and that they would need to talk of disengaging.]
You will just have to indulge me, your highness.
[When his hand closes a bit tighter around his shaft, that appears to be the sign that Wrathion is done talking and his focus is shifting. His mouth lowers again, taking place of the hand ghosting across his chest. The dragon drags his teeth along skin there, where it has grown most pink. He soothes the marks he leaves behind with his tongue.]
[ Anduin almost chuckles. There is always this aspect to it, no matter how they engage one another. That bite of pain with the pleasure seems inherent to this dance of theirs, and its return settles something deeper than bone and muscle.
The priest's eyes shut with a hitched breath, feeling the scrape of teeth in every detail, the warm wet dart of the dragon's tongue, the way his breath catches beneath the rope where it's almost certainly left an indention in his skin from being held taut for so long.
The descent is slow, almost excruciatingly so. Time stretches as the pressure of the knots, the slick strokes of Wrathion's fingers, and the pinch of teeth all vie for his attention and focus. His fingers curl and uncurl, hips arching in an almost languid stretch, as much as he dares without tugging at the rope further. ]
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Anduin sighs at the contact, head bowing slightly, the loose fringe of blond that frames his face falling gently over his eyes, but it doesn't matter. All he wants is to feel this, strange and unfamiliar but welcome all the same. When nudged to sit, he does so without hesitation, though the way the rope moves as he does is interesting all its own.
He's careful in how he settles himself down on the edge, before looking up questioningly. It can't be his imagination, the heat he's seeing in Wrathion's normally inscrutable expression.
Tongue darting briefly over his lips, he shakes his head. ]
...no, that's alright. I'd rather see once you're finished.
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[He joins him upon the bed, crawling around until he is flush behind him again. Whatever barriers had previously existed that kept him from engaging quite so intimately in the past have fallen away -- Wrathion remains flush against the other man's back, humming some abstract tune as he continues to tie the gauntlet ladder up his forearms. Of course, he could have done this in the position they were previously in.
But presently, this is preferable, even as his lips occasionally fall to the crown of his head, or the shell of his ear.
When the gauntlet is complete, he leans back just enough to loosen the chest harness some at the junction near the back of his neck, noting that the tightness nearly prevents him from sliding his fingers beneath it to explore the slightly chaffed skin.]
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If he'd only known this was all it took. ]
Perhaps we should have done this sooner.
[ He can't help the soft and somewhat incredulous smile that passes over his lips as he lists into the touch, the rest of the tension in his body unraveling as the ropes pull tighter. He doesn't care if it's too tight, if it rubs his skin a little red and raw in places. Discomfort is an old friend by now, and this feels good and right in ways he couldn't have possibly thought of before now.
Perhaps this is freeing for the both of them, in some way. ]
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I was not ready.
[It is a quiet admission, in a tone that suggests he still isn't certain that he is doing the correct thing by engaging with this. But there is no room to question that he enjoys it as he tips his head forward to rest his face against the crook of his neck.]
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But they'd never done anything by conventional means, had they?
There's a reassuring tilt of his head, bumping against Wrathion's with a tickling sweep of soft blond hair, and as much as he can move his fingers to run against the dragon's fingers, he does. ]
I'm here when you are.
[ Whatever form that takes, for them. ]
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[The bump of his head encourages him to lift his eyes again, staring down the hallway in quiet contemplation as he feels his body begin to warm Anduin's to a level that may, perhaps, discomfort the human. He unwinds just enough to allow his skin to breath, cheek still pressed against the other man's head.
There are things he still wants to say. Things he is still figuring out exactly how to say.
As a result, the withdrawing of his hands from the rope is slower and more deliberate.]
Would you like to see?
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If you're finished.
[ Whatever dwells in Wrathion's mind will come in time, or it won't. He's accepted that by now, patient to the last, but it's an unspoken relief to see even this much from him, to feel that sense of want and affection from him to remind him that this is still very much evenly felt between them. ]
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A snap of his fingers lights a small spark, enough to illuminate the pair of them -- Anduin in the foreground, and Wrathion himself behind. The sight encourages Wrathion to rest his head back down upon him, though his free hand remains hooked in the ropework at the king's back.
It was a simple thing -- it could get more complex. He'd seen as much. But that was some of the beauty of it. As much as he might have appeared to have planned the entire evening, there was a sense of spontaneity to it.]
If only everyone could be so fortunate as I, to be blessed with such a view.
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The initial curiosity had been the ropework, which is of course stunning. But the elegant crisscrossed pattern of crimson rope over his body highlights the curve of hard-earned muscle, the slender jut of his hips, the flat slope of his stomach, and perfectly frame his half-hard cock. He can see when the tension lies with Wrathion's fingers curled into the knots at his back, the faint dig of the rope into his skin.
Though often told how attractive he is by others, this might be the first time he feels it might be true. Wrathion's pleased expression hovering over his shoulder certainly helps, and once his eyes trail back up to meet the dragon's gaze in the mirror he feels his face flush. ]
This was your first?
[ It's flawlessly done, so far as he can tell of such things. ]
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It was.
[He has no problem admitting that. Perhaps it was not so surprising -- after all, it was a fairly intimate act. His first attempt at it couldn't be with just anyone.
His eyes drop lower, his smirk stretching just a bit more when he spots that Anduin is, in fact, still aroused. Wrathion's own cock remains out of view, but given that he cannot seem to keep his hands off of him...well.]
It helps to have a cooperative model.
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You're pleased with your work, then?
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It could be better. But I suppose practice makes perfect.
[His hands drag backwards, one finger tracing down the other man's spine between the rope until it finds his tailbone. He knows very well what he wants -- but he also knows that this is not about him. More importantly, there was a high chance that he would harm Anduin if he tried anything particularly strenuous while he was still tied.
The sigh behind him is heavy, and he lowers his mouth to press another kiss to his shoulder. And then another upon his neck as he relocates to the front of him, finding a grip on the ropes again to pull him him for a deep kiss.]
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He doubts he could pull back out of Wrathion's grip if he wanted to.
Not that he wants to. Despite the initial realization of how compromised he was like this, Anduin still tilts his head, fearlessly seeking the warm press of Wrathion's mouth. He doesn't care, and in fact he can feel himself stirring against the ropes.
For once, it's not up to him, save for that one word. The decision is out of his hands. Exactly as he wished it to be. ]
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Slowly, he lowers himself to his knees, vaguely aware of how his own length has begun to grow heavy between his legs. But there would be time for that later. Right now, he's got Anduin precisely where he wants him -- tied, in front of a mirror, with Wrathion himself on his knees and yet somehow still in control of the situation.
There is little pretense this time when he leans in to kiss above the rope near the inside of his right thigh, and his head tilts up just enough to brush against the hands still bound in front of him.]
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With a deep breath Anduin tears his gaze away from where Wrathion's mouth warms his skin, only to see the exact image in the mirror in front of him. How positively obscene they look together.
How breathtaking.
His eyes dart back almost at once, choosing instead to fix on the glow of Wrathion's eyes as best as he could see, considering the angle. ]
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He does not have the frame of mind to think of it for too long just now. Instead, he slowly indulges in sliding his tone straight from base to tip, exhaling the heavy heat that has coiled in his lungs.
On his way up, those glowing red eyes catch his stare -- and he holds it in a most daring way as he works his lips and his tongue back downwards.]
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Of course that half-stirring is further encouraged by his work. The dragon's wicked tongue is seemingly all that's needed to get him to grow fully hard, teeth sinking into the edge of his lip to steady himself on his feet. ]
Wrathion...
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He just. Needs to hold it. It will help his patience.
The sound of his name causes him to rise slightly upward upon his knees, hands drifting from his hips to the small of his back to stabilize his balance. In retrospect, this would have been more practically done on the bed -- but practicality isn't really what is driving him, at the present.
The desire swims in his eyes, which drift shut briefly as he reangles his mouth to take him past his lips, as he had done once before. This time, he has learned how best to mind his teeth, which leaves him to focus instead on a steady and slow rhythm. His tongue remains flat beneath him and his cheeks hollow out with the effort to swallow him down the next time his lips part to accept him.]
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Another soft noise catches in his throat, eyes flickering momentarily shut as that incredible warmth draws him in. He's close enough now that he can wind his fingers through his hair at last, but without much room to guide or encourage. Simply to hold, fingertips curling against his scalp with a shivery exhale passing over parted lips.
If this is what he wants? It's his. He could ask for anything right now, surely he knows that. ]
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And he holds there for a long moment, perfectly content with it until the exact moment he isn't, at which point he retreats again. When his mouth comes off of his cock, a string of saliva carries with it, stuck to his pointed canines. All the while, the hand between his own legs continues a much slower stroke -- just enough to take the edge off.
Wrathion's head comes to rest against his inner thigh, one arm still braced to steady him.]
I would like to move to to the bed ... it would be a shame if you were to collapse here when I am through.
[There is a sultry note of calm that has been previously absent during their other sexual escapades -- the certain confidence that comes with being in complete control.]
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There's no hiding how pink he is now, even in the low light. The ropes strain with the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, which of course tugs at everything else, tightening those knots and pulling them closer and he can feel where it hitches up between his thighs in time with those shortened breaths.
Close to where Wrathion is currently resting his head, at the moment. ]
Somehow...I don't think you'd mind all that much.
[ It would certainly be a boost to his ego, wouldn't it? ]
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[He is not entirely unaware of the concept that actions have consequences -- he is just used to avoiding them for as long as possible while still doing exactly what he wants.
Still, he's declared his intent, which means Anduin will have to wait a moment longer to have Wrathion's attention back upon his cock. The dragon stands, stretching upwards as he does, and proceeds to guide him back to the mattress. The light near the mirror fades as he puts distance between them and the spell.
When they reach the bed, Wrathion has the presence of mind to guide Anduin down to his back this time rather than just sitting him upright. Once that is done, he returns a hand to massaging his cock, spreading the saliva already present rather than adding to it. He has better control of the progression of things, this way.
But that does not stop his tongue from sliding thoughtfully across his canines.]
After all, there exists an entire library of additional things to add to the...experience.
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He can't help but be grateful he'd chosen to have his hands tied in front when Wrathion presses him back into the sheets, and Anduin draws up a knee to catch his heel on the edge of the mattress, pulling himself up as best he can to make room. The dragon has all the appearance of a large predatory animal settling in for a meal, the way he drapes himself nearby with his gaze full of promise.
The blond's tongue darts over his lips almost in answer, eyelids fluttering slightly at the renewed touch to his cock, now fully hard and standing proudly, glistening wetly in the candlelight as strong, warm fingers wind and glide around him. ]
You sound like you have something in mind, already...
[ Harder to tease when he already sounds a little breathless. ]
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[His hand continues to shuttle lazily, the other gently playing across his chest and pausing to flick a nipple as his fingers wander past. The dragon's eyes lift to the ajar armoire, but he makes no movement to lift himself. Additional accoutrement could be introduced at another hour.
He does not want to leave him tied for longer than necessary. Even with his hands tied in front of him, it wouldn't be too long before his bones found fatigue and that they would need to talk of disengaging.]
You will just have to indulge me, your highness.
[When his hand closes a bit tighter around his shaft, that appears to be the sign that Wrathion is done talking and his focus is shifting. His mouth lowers again, taking place of the hand ghosting across his chest. The dragon drags his teeth along skin there, where it has grown most pink. He soothes the marks he leaves behind with his tongue.]
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[ Anduin almost chuckles. There is always this aspect to it, no matter how they engage one another. That bite of pain with the pleasure seems inherent to this dance of theirs, and its return settles something deeper than bone and muscle.
The priest's eyes shut with a hitched breath, feeling the scrape of teeth in every detail, the warm wet dart of the dragon's tongue, the way his breath catches beneath the rope where it's almost certainly left an indention in his skin from being held taut for so long.
The descent is slow, almost excruciatingly so. Time stretches as the pressure of the knots, the slick strokes of Wrathion's fingers, and the pinch of teeth all vie for his attention and focus. His fingers curl and uncurl, hips arching in an almost languid stretch, as much as he dares without tugging at the rope further. ]
Nn. Who could refuse the Black Prince?
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