[Under ordinary circumstances, Huaisang would panic at the bites to his windpipe and fight hard to get away but the fruit's influence is too strong. His robes are coarse silk, his body soft and pliant compared to most cultivators, lacking the muscle tone most of the cultivators in his sect have. Only one muscle has seemed worth exercising and Huaisang's honed it for years, even though his brain is failing him now.
He should be shoving him off and screaming for help, not trying to pull Xue Yang closer for more fullbody contact or crying out his name in a raw, intense growl most would never think him capable of making. Huaisang feels almost drunk as he focuses intently on the sensation of that mouth on his neck. A shiver travels through him from head to toe underneath those wandering hands.]
I want more. Take off our clothes.
[There's a ring of casual authority underlying those simple words, perhaps befitting the leader of a major sect if not the Nie Huaisang most people know.]
no subject
He should be shoving him off and screaming for help, not trying to pull Xue Yang closer for more fullbody contact or crying out his name in a raw, intense growl most would never think him capable of making. Huaisang feels almost drunk as he focuses intently on the sensation of that mouth on his neck. A shiver travels through him from head to toe underneath those wandering hands.]
I want more. Take off our clothes.
[There's a ring of casual authority underlying those simple words, perhaps befitting the leader of a major sect if not the Nie Huaisang most people know.]