[If he can feel a slight gush of a breath over his wet shoulder just before the warmth of Alhaitham's mouth, the Scribe doesn't even make an effort to hide it.
He nuzzles and presses small, soft kisses up to under his ear, still stroking his sides, his hips, his thighs.] Don't tell me you're getting worked up over a few little kisses.
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He nuzzles and presses small, soft kisses up to under his ear, still stroking his sides, his hips, his thighs.] Don't tell me you're getting worked up over a few little kisses.