Serpico’s words make too little sense to his addled brain, Lon’qu finding himself for the first time in his life on the brink of uncontrollably wanton desire. He can’t even begin to make sense of the use this sort of magic has in the messy world of politics—let alone comprehend the fact that he’s not about to die, but he is about to do something he’ll never be able to live down.
He thinks of his lingering terror of women, how he’d longed to have a more physical relationship with one had his life turned out differently. And he’d trained and trained and fought and trained some more, remaining a virgin all the while.
It hadn’t seemed important at the time.
His gaze lingers on Serpico’s bare throat, his throat far too dry for comfort. He knows what this means, even if he’s never experienced it for himself—even if the other mercenaries had teased him for being perhaps too impotent despite being a swordsman.
And now…now the sight of this pampered noble is making him feel strangely, making him crave things that he’s never had the appetite of before. But Serpico isn’t some mere spoiled lordling, is he?
“I’m not going to kill you,” he manages, reaching out to grab Serpico’s arm and roughly pull him closer, Lon’qu glaring down at him, flushed and yearning and horrified, their lips inches apart.
“But I’ll decide—” He doesn’t bother finishing the sentence, as he promptly crushes his lips against Serpico, feeling a mad sense of relief flooding through him.
no subject
He thinks of his lingering terror of women, how he’d longed to have a more physical relationship with one had his life turned out differently. And he’d trained and trained and fought and trained some more, remaining a virgin all the while.
It hadn’t seemed important at the time.
His gaze lingers on Serpico’s bare throat, his throat far too dry for comfort. He knows what this means, even if he’s never experienced it for himself—even if the other mercenaries had teased him for being perhaps too impotent despite being a swordsman.
And now…now the sight of this pampered noble is making him feel strangely, making him crave things that he’s never had the appetite of before. But Serpico isn’t some mere spoiled lordling, is he?
“I’m not going to kill you,” he manages, reaching out to grab Serpico’s arm and roughly pull him closer, Lon’qu glaring down at him, flushed and yearning and horrified, their lips inches apart.
“But I’ll decide—” He doesn’t bother finishing the sentence, as he promptly crushes his lips against Serpico, feeling a mad sense of relief flooding through him.