Merlin’s movements are unbearably soft, nothing but gentle flicks across a long, thin expanse of metal that belie his normal clumsiness. As he reaches the end of each stroke, his nostrils flare and his fingers pinch a little tighter before loosening once more, over and over and over. It’s a rhythmic dance that Arthur has noticed multiple times in the past, out of the corner of his eye, and ignored. A servant cleaning his master’s prize sword is nothing out of the ordinary by any stretch of imagination
( ... )
The heat binds into a tight coil as he wonders what Merlin would do if he ordered him to his knees and pulled his face to his groin; would Merlin lick and suck at his cock with the same deference and care with which he handles the sword, or would he simply wrap his tongue and mouth around him in one deft swallow? He wonders, as he tries not to look at Merlin, whether his manservant has ever had his back pressed up against a wall, legs curled awkwardly as another man slams into his body with bruising force
( ... )
AWESOME. Like, so awesome it hurts. I AM NOT TINGLY ALL OVER, NO NOT AT ALL. The writing in this is so smooth and nice, and Arthur's fantasies are hot like a burning thing. THE LAST SENTENCE IS PERFECTION.
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AWESOME. Like, so awesome it hurts. I AM NOT TINGLY ALL OVER, NO NOT AT ALL. The writing in this is so smooth and nice, and Arthur's fantasies are hot like a burning thing. THE LAST SENTENCE IS PERFECTION.
This is totally my new kink. Tres sexy. ♥
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