"How? In a whisper, in a scream?"
The words were breathed in Gaultier's ear, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin there before he straightened. Actually stepping away from the man was, by now, utterly impossible; even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't, not with Gaultier's hand keeping him pinned in place so that he could feel the strength of his desire, even through the several layers of clothing that lay between them. No, he physically could not put any more distance between them -- but neither did he want to.
If Gaultier was displaying every sign of losing control, so was Cygnus. His eyes fluttered with the shock of hip jutting against hip, and that kiss was so brief and faint as to drive him mad. "Shall I tell you in your room?" he asked; his hand, the one concealed from any wandering eyes by their two bodies, fell down to brush lightly against the fold of Gaultier's robe that lay directly above his cock. "Do you want me to kneel in front of you, on the floor, Gaultier, my face-- there?" His fingers tightened, then moved away.
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