His grip tightens to shallow Dorian's breath as his fingers burrow deeper under his jaw.
"Le do thoil, Trioblóid," he repeats. There's a pause before he tips his head, both in respect and deference.
"When ya would have it." Sweeney's tongue slides over his teeth as he peeks up at her, his head still bowed. Even lowered, his grin is still quite apparent. A thought comes, and he looks to the bed and back.
"Perhaps when he's earned it?" He's implying the privilege of being on the bed, but she's welcome to take it however she fancies.
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His grip tightens to shallow Dorian's breath as his fingers burrow deeper under his jaw.
"Le do thoil, Trioblóid," he repeats. There's a pause before he tips his head, both in respect and deference.
"When ya would have it." Sweeney's tongue slides over his teeth as he peeks up at her, his head still bowed. Even lowered, his grin is still quite apparent. A thought comes, and he looks to the bed and back.
"Perhaps when he's earned it?" He's implying the privilege of being on the bed, but she's welcome to take it however she fancies.