sterngaze | open post

[In this particular area, at least, Liem would absolutely judge Cardan a bad influence. He has nudged Liem into being late to appointments or even cancelling them, distracted him at all hours of the day and night, and now tempted him into plotting mischief of his own initiative. The trend worries him a little; his father won't be happy to see it continued. He's not supposed to be neglecting his work on idle whims.

But he cannot care enough to stop. He doesn't want to relinquish one of the most persistent pleasures in his life, regardless of how unwise it might be not to. And he would rather please Cardan than his father.

He sits up again, attentive, when Cardan rises to draw nearer. The thought of pulling him into the tub with him surfaces again as he draws within arm's reach — but it would be so predictable to do so now, at the very first opportunity. So hasty. He has no wish to be either.

But he does want to get his hands on Cardan again. It's impossible not to, when even the stroke of fingers over his cheek makes longing flare bright in his chest, and the slide of lips against his own fans it even hotter.]

I should hope so, [he murmurs.

His hands, warm now from their time in the bath, are dripping wet as they slide beneath Cardan's undone shirt and over the bare skin of his waist, of his back. His kiss is hungry. Though he doesn't tug Cardan closer, the arm around him clings stubbornly, unwilling to let him retreat again.]

I've been waiting all night to touch you.

[ He breathes in with something akin to relief when Liem touches him again -- though it's odd, having his hands be warm when Cardan is so used to their cool whisper over his skin. Odd, too, to have the sopping wet fabric of his sleeves send water trickling down Cardan's back, over his ribs.

It's difficult to kiss Liem once. Cardan always wants more of him, and especially when he is like this-- when Cardan can feel the hunger in his touch, can feel himself respond with equally eager want. He thinks he could spend hours, probably, just kissing Liem -- if they ever had hours to spare. ]

I am yours, [ he murmurs between greedy kisses, and if he forgets to add a qualifier -- like to do with as you please or tonight -- then who can honestly blame him? Cardan is distracted, even as he takes another perch at the tub's edge to free both his hands. They sneak under the shoulders of Liem's jacket, now heavy with water, to push it off him. Cardan wants to touch him, too, especially with the novelty of warmth emanating from him.

Though it can only shift so far if Liem refuses to move his arms. ]

Off, [ Cardan will demand, to that end, before smearing his mouth over the sharp line of Liem's jaw, unwilling to keep away from him for any longer than that. ]

[Liem had thought to be patient about this; to be coy, to let Cardan come to him — or else wonder when Liem might take the chance to pull him closer. He had wanted to find an opportunity when tugging his husband into the water with him might be, if not surprising, then at least well-earned.

But he finds patience impossible with Cardan's mouth greedy on his. He finds temperance impossible with his hands sliding impatiently over his shoulders. And he finds it impossible to think of anything but keeping him all to himself in the wake of that murmur, which by itself already has a keen, jagged-edged yearning clawing wild beneath his skin.

He doesn't know how he's meant to weather it — but perhaps if Liem touches him enough, he'll find an answer.

He scarcely registers the motion of shrugging his jacket fully off, nor shoving it over the lip of the tub to land with a wet slap on the tile below. What he does register are the warm slide of Cardan's mouth against his jaw and the trim curve of Cardan's waist beneath his hands when he winds his arms back around him.]

Come here.

[It's not a request. Suddenly it seems absurd that Cardan should be anywhere but right in his lap, and he tugs him into it in one fluid motion, heedless of the water that sloshes out of the bath as a result.]

[ He should have expected it-- he did expect it. Still, a surprised sound escapes him when he's pulled off the tub's ledge, slipping into hot water and rose petals and Liem, always Liem. There is the usual haphazard navigation of knees and elbows, but soon enough, Cardan's thighs slide against Liem's hips as he straddles his husband. It's gratifying to feel him under Cardan; gratifying to hold him down with the weight of his kisses and his unconstrained desire, as if Liem might escape him if he didn't. Cardan's hands drag down his still-clothed chest, nails catching in the wet fabric.

Liem should be grateful that he doesn't rip the buttons right off his waistcoat, though the effort of undoing them makes Cardan growl and nip at Liem's throat. Impatience burns under his skin, blooms like an ink spill everywhere Liem touches; he has been half hard and waiting for Liem's hands on him for half this day. Now there's both too much of his husband, and not even close to enough.

How one man could so neatly destroy Cardan's composure is beyond him.

He distracts himself by retracing the path of a droplet on Liem's neck with his tongue, then busying himself with sucking a bruise onto the tender spot just below his ear. ]

[Liem should be satisfied by his husband's weight atop him, by the drag of his hands down his chest, by the hot impatience of his mouth; by the nip of teeth at his neck that pulls a breathless, wanting little moan from him. He should be content to have Cardan near and within his grasp.

But of course, he's not.

Of course his nearness only makes the ache to have more of him grow more intense, only makes him jealous with the thought of releasing him when they finish here and need to return to attending other matters. His hands are possessive as they roam Cardan's body, gripping hip and thigh through wet fabric, sliding up bare skin to map him with touch while he tips his head to accommodate the mouth at his neck. His breath slips out on a groan, hungry and impatient already, for all that Cardan has barely touched him.

He'd thought himself easily riled back in the wood, but the night's restraint has nudged him up against the edge of his patience. He doesn't want to leash himself anymore. He wants his husband's body against his; he wants his greedy kisses; he wants his tenderness and his frustration; he wants his hunger and his desire.

And he wants more even than that; but now isn't the time to dwell on foolish fancies.]

[ He loses himself for a time -- in the wanting, intimate sounds that slip from his husband's lips, in the way they make lust shoot sharp and keen through Cardan. He loses himself in those wandering hands and the feeling of Liem under him, trapped so willingly between Cardan's thighs, his skin warmed by the bath. And still, Liem's hands cause goosebumps in their wake, and the little shiver that takes Cardan has nothing to do with cold.

When the last of the buttons slip free of their fastening-- well, Liem isn't anywhere close to bare, given he's still wearing the damn waistcoat, and a tie, and shirt, and trousers, but it's at least better. It's better because Cardan can run hungry hands up his chest and feel the hard muscle under the fabric of his shirt, admiring and needy all at once. It's better because when he pulls back to appreciate his work, he can marvel at Liem in all of his wet, bath-mussed glory, with the fabric translucent and clinging to him in ways that only stoke Cardan's greed.

He grins. ]

You already look well-fucked.

[ And they've barely even started. Cardan will lean down to kiss him again, hands slipping down to Liem's hips so he can move against him-- deliberate with longing. ]

[The transit of hands up Liem's chest makes heat curl along his spine and pleasure bloom beneath his skin. The greed with which Cardan regards him goes straight to his cock. Of late, Cardan has been too often in his thoughts and far too rarely in his embrace — Liem's own doing, frustratingly. The chance to have his kiss and touch and regard in earnest is all the more thrilling for how often such has featured in his wishes.

He meets Cardan's grin with a small, slow-blooming smile.]

Do I?

[He shivers beneath the passage of Cardan's hands, and meets the slide of both body and lips with covetous eagerness. There had been little opportunity for much foreplay during their trip to the forest, and despite his feverish desire for his husband, Liem finds himself just as desperate to linger here, half-clothed and wanting. His hands find Cardan's face, framing it and keeping him close as Liem claims kiss after kiss. Amidst this assault, he murmurs,]

Imagine how I'll look once you've finished with me.

I have.

[ The thought sends a pang of heat through him, making his breath catch and his hands clutch a little harder at Liem's hips. He's not grinning anymore; in the space between heated kisses, Cardan's voice is serious, a little rough with wanting. He wants to sneak his hands under the shirt, wants to sweep them over skin, but--

He hasn't stopped his slow, sinuous grind against Liem, too impatient to let go long enough to strip them of more clothing -- and, simultaneously, wanting to tease, to push the keen edge of frustration just a little closer for them both. How could he not, after what Liem had just admitted to him? He wants to see the frustration and desire on his husband's handsome face, wants to feel the tension of wanting in the beautiful body pressed against his own, to count those rare breaths Liem doesn't need to take...

And besides, the hands on his face trap him close, and he thinks that even if they didn't, he is not nearly done with the business of kissing Liem yet. ]

Ah…

[Liem shivers a little with the pleasing grip of the hands on his hips, the rough edge to the words snuck in between greedy kisses. He does not need to recall — though he does — the intent way that Cardan has watched him every prior time he's brought Liem to climax; the wanting that underlies his answer, the movement of his hips, the heady beat of his pulse all paint a clear enough picture.

That alone makes need roll through him; enough to leave him breathless.

Even so, Liem does not relinquish Cardan's lips for some long moments, not until his kisses begin to turn distracted and haphazard with want, and his fingers have slid from his face to curl in his hair and nudge the undone shirt from his shoulders. He smears kisses along his jaw instead, in between restless, unsteady breaths.]

Cardan—

[He does not want Cardan to stop; but if he doesn't touch him soon, Liem might begin to go mad.]

[ Cardan does not, in fact, intend to stop.

It feels good— the delicious, tantalizing friction between their bodies; Liem’s wandering hands; the assault of kisses, persistent enough to make him gasp for air when Liem does let him go. That’s good, too: being so wanted as to be breathless with it. The idea of being kissed into lightheadedness dances intriguingly in his thoughts — but then, Cardan has ever chosen pleasure over self-preservation.

Like now, when Liem’s mouth finds his jaw and he only tilts his head back, more instinct than decision, to offer up his throat. He watches Liem with eyes half-shut and simmering with want, and the sound of his name makes his mouth curl in a small, knowing smile. ]

What is it, husband?

[ His own shirt has become an impediment, and somewhat clammy besides; he will reach back to peel it off himself, then drop it carelessly over the side of the tub. Then his hands are back on Liem, sweeping up his still-clothed chest, hungry in their conquest. The way the wet, translucent fabric clings to his husband’s skin is rife with eroticism — he drags blunt nails over a nipple and feels a hot little thrill go through him. His tail beats with it, sending small ripples through the water.

The last time they were like this, he was about to trick Liem into leaving. Not tonight: Liem’s touch may be uncomfortably gentle, and Cardan is not much closer to understanding his husband than he was all those weeks ago — nonetheless, he feels himself rather inexorably committed to stay for as long as Liem will have him.

Even if it involves teasing them both into pleasurable madness. ]

[It would take more restraint than Liem currently possesses to resist the invitation of that bared throat; his mouth slides down to decorate it with kisses as his hands eagerly explore the newly exposed expanse of Cardan’s back, from his shoulders down to the curve of spine just above his tail. He badly wants to drag his hands down further, grab his hips and urge his husband to keep driving them both crazy. The impact that would have on the pulse fluttering against his tongue would be exquisite.

On the other hand, right now he’s most invested in letting Cardan do whatever he likes with him.]

Would you like to torment me; drive me a little mad?

[His lips curve against Cardan’s neck, but his murmur is fervent with a wanting he cannot recall ever feeling before. Even years ago, when he last claimed a serious lover, he’d never asked anything like this. He’d never wanted to make a plaything of himself — and yet, hearing the smile in his husband’s voice, he cannot want anything else.

At the drag of nails over his chest, he squeezes him closer with a low, pleased hum. And he tips his head slightly, dragging his teeth over the pulse beating at Cardan’s neck.]

I can make it easy for you.

Was I not already?

[ Desire adds a hitch to his breath, to his voice -- as it ever has when that dangerous mouth is at his throat. His wish to have Liem sup on him and only him had backfired in exciting ways: though his husband had been faithful to his promise, they had not always time to consummate the bite, as they had that first time. Unfortunately, being left bereft has only served to heighten Cardan's frustration, to eroticize the act even further.

He feels the sharp points of those teeth and doesn't bother hiding his shiver. The grip of his hands bites into Liem's skin... before one of them sweeps up into his hair, urging him to pull back.

If only because Cardan cannot think with Liem's mouth against his skin. He makes up for it with yet another grind of his hips, another pleased gasp, another wicked little smile. ]

What do you propose, then?

[ The thought of Liem surrendering himself into Cardan's hands is dizzyingly intoxicating. He'd never thought of himself as a man who wanted power, yet imagining his husband at his whims makes his breath quicken with selfish need. If it is a trap, then Liem has laid out excellent bait; Cardan may well step in willingly. ]

[Even if Liem is reluctant to abandon his place at Cardan's neck, when he relents and draws back to once more meet his gaze, it is with a pleased little sigh, almost a purr as his husband grinds against him. The simmering hunger in his expression is only partly due to lust for Cardan's blood; even the temptation of a bite pales beside Liem's want for his touch and his attention. Amusement flickers through the haze of his desire.]

The latter, yes; often.

[Perhaps the former as well, at that. God knows Cardan has managed to throw Liem's life in complete disarray, and has been at the centre of more than just a few of his unwise decisions. But perhaps something of Cardan's manner is rubbing off on him, because even now, wrapped around his husband, dishevelled and aching against him, he finds himself greedy for more. More touch, more sensation, more breathless desperation.

He's already halfway there, but somehow that only makes him covet what he doesn't already have.]

Blood sharpens life's pleasures, [he points out. Since he has been urged back from Cardan's throat, he presses a kiss instead to the corner of his mouth.] And yours is especially potent. It is very distracting.

[ Cardan had wondered if his blood would sustain Liem sufficiently, given its fundamental differences from that of humans. But the way Liem phrases it makes him think less of a meal and more of the sweet warmth of nevermore spreading over his skin, making every colour sing and every taste headier. It explains some of Liem's behaviour after drinking from Cardan, especially that very first time. Cardan had thought it only the strangeness and excitement of the night, relief and want and exhaustion making them giddy -- but it seems like he wasn't the only one drugged, after all.

He quirks an eyebrow, chasing that kiss with his own. His murmur against Liem's skin is thoughtful. ]

I wasn't going to let you bite me. [ He breathes in Liem's scent, tilting his face to nuzzle at his cheek and keeping his hips' slow, unhurried rhythm against his husband's. That is distracting, too; still, Cardan prevails, though his breathing is uneven. ] Not until I was fucking you.

[ A goal that seems far off, still, given Liem is nearly fully clothed, but isn't that the point? Cardan's fingers find the wet leash of his tie, wind it around his hand -- though, given how little space there is between them, there is little point in using his newfound leash.

Maybe he just wants to make sure Liem has no chance of pulling back. ]

Hmm.

[Liem manages to grumble, despite the pleasure of his husband’s kiss, the warmth and sweetness of his breath, the relentless, insistent temptation of his hips moving against him. Despite how the proximity of Cardan’s mouth makes him want to chase after it and kiss it another dozen times, just to be thorough. He shudders against him, sliding his hands down to clutch at Cardan’s hips after all — and, frowning slightly, compromises by pressing closer and kissing him only once. For now.]

Well, if you wish to be restrained…

[He aims for dry, but his murmur is mostly just breathless.

Restrained is not an accusation he would normally level at his husband, in the course of nightly events. Still, what else is he to think, when Cardan wishes to keep him sober during their foreplay? Because their present activity seems to be teasing him just as much as it is Liem, and especially in Liem’s present mood, he doubts that Cardan desires the level of frustration that he himself wants to experience. Certainly his husband has never given him any reason to think that he also wants to be bullied.

Curiously, he pulls back so the silk around his neck is pulled tight against Cardan’s fist, a thrill running through him as it does, and regards him with an intent, heavy-lidded look. A coy smile flirts with his lips.]

Perhaps that’s a mercy. I lose all my patience when I drink.

[ Cardan's expression, when he returns Liem's glance, is not particularly readable. There is nothing he can do about his racing pulse nor the flush that has crept over his cheekbones, but the cool, thorough regard of his gaze treats these tells as if they don't exist. ]

I am restrained, Liem.

I have been for weeks.

[ Even if it's difficult, with Liem looking the way he does -- leashed and breathless at Cardan's hands. It had been difficult: the endless hours of work, the missed sleep, the dull meetings and paperwork... and all of them displacing the one thing he actually wanted from his husband. Even this breif reprieve had been hard-won.

It's unfair of Liem, he thinks, to make Cardan want him and then decide that their marriage must be composed of endless duty.

He shifts -- up onto his knees, pulling himself from the water's heat so he can tower over his husband. Slowly, deliberately, he winds another half-turn of the tie around his hand to pull Liem closer -- close enough for Cardan to run his thumb over the curve of his mouth, feeling the softness of it against his skin.

The half-smile that curls over his lips is deceptively mild. ]

Are you trying to goad me into being otherwise?

[Liem searches Cardan's expression, tipping his head back to follow him as his husband shifts up to loom over him. His lips part slightly under the caress of Cardan's thumb; his hands slide heavily down from his hips to run along the backs of his thighs. He feels bereft without the weight of his husband in his lap, and his nails drag a little, possessive, over the fabric clinging to his legs, but he is caught as if glamoured by that cool regard and the idle strokes against his mouth.

He cannot recall a single time when Cardan has caressed his lips without it being wildly distracting. Hopefully this is Cardan's intention.]

Am I succeeding? [he murmurs curiously.

The look on Cardan's face says no, but his heartbeat is giving Liem a resounding maybe. The continued tension of the silken leash round his neck and the way his husband is looming over him make him a little uncertain whether Cardan is still coming onto him or if he's just kind of pissed off. He's really only trying to shoot for one of those outcomes.]

I'd think you might be wearied of restraint by now.

[ It's difficult to concentrate on looking indifferent with the trail of those nails on his thighs, the cool breath of Liem's speech against his skin. Liem is right: he is impatient, ever has been, and the ardent heat of his wanting is growing torturous. Already his black gaze is cut with an intent, unerring focus on Liem's face, as if all else around them might as well not exist. Already he feels alight with his greed for his husband. ]

Did I not tell you? I am a contrary man.

[ Which is to say: for better or worse, he rankles at being manipulated, even so gently and playfully as Liem intends. Cardan has always paid his greatest forfeits for the pleasure of not doing as he was told.

But there is something else that holds his attention -- the thing that he had wanted to do since that feverish night with the nevermore. He had been cautious then, but now--

His fingers push, gently but insistently, against the seam of Liem's lips. He wants to press them inside Liem's mouth, run them against those dangerous teeth and feel their sharp points against his skin. If Liem wants him to be unbridled by restraint, then surely this is the least of what he'll allow Cardan to do with him. ]

[For the barest of moments, Liem allows himself to entertain the idea that Cardan might tolerate his mischief in good humour. Not a likely possibility perhaps, but a pleasing one — and Cardan has been in a good mood for much of the night. So at his reply, Liem's eyes narrow just a fraction, and his eyebrows draw slightly closer together. He feels — and looks — a little thwarted.

But a smile twitches over his mouth, beneath the touch of Cardan's thumb. He is not really surprised — and he cannot bring himself to be put out when his husband is still straddling him, half-undressed and watching him with catlike intensity. And some part of him continues to be charmed by Cardan's stubborn refusal to do anything but just what he pleases, even frustrating though it is for him personally.

But then, Liem had found Cardan's prideful unruliness compelling even on that first night, when he'd been spiteful and a little drunk, and he has hardly become any more immune to his charms since then.

It's a simple thing for Cardan to gain entry to Liem's mouth. Though his eyes widen some at the intrusion, Liem submits to it without protest, jaw easing a little further open to accommodate the exploration of fingers over long, sharply pointed canines. His own hands, clutching Cardan's thighs, relax against him, even as the heat slithering through him becomes wildly more demanding. He starts to regret the absence of Cardan's weight against his lap very much, and has to swallow a noise of frustration in order to maintain at least some semblance of composure.]

[ There had been an element of punishment in making Liem wait. It’s payback — for the times he’d left Cardan aching with a bite on his neck and his needs woefully unfulfilled. It’s preferable, still, to Liem feeding on anyone else, but that doesn’t address Cardan’s frustration with everything else.

But he hadn’t expected his husband to be quite so demanding about this.

There is something deeply, erotically satisfying about the easy way Liem lets him manhandle his mouth, shove his fingers inside and tease his fangs. It doesn’t do much to discourage the possessive timbre of Cardan’s thoughts— his husband, his mouth to invade, his his his—

The fact that this feeling is hardly warranted does little to stop him.

He draws the pad of his index against one sharp canine and feels his breath catch with the heady thrill of it. For a moment, he lingers there, and even though he has known the bite of these same teeth more than once now, the feeling is ever a little like standing on the edge of a perilous drop. ]

Very well. [ Menace curls in his voice, velvet-soft. ] Then the restraint will be yours.

[ And he presses up, deliberate, with enough force to break skin. ]

[For all Cardan’s stubborn refusal to give Liem what he’d asked for, he proves quite gracious in offering him exactly what he’d wanted. The intrusion of fingers invading his mouth, brazenly examining his teeth, makes Liem’s cheeks burn and his breath halt in his throat. He’d wanted his husband to amuse himself with him, to make a toy of him and do with him as he pleased — and for all that Liem didn’t ask for this particular form of perversion, he can’t deny the thrill of triumph that underlies his surrender to Cardan’s hands.

The first time Cardan shoved his fingers in his mouth, Liem had been a little outraged by his presumption, somewhere beneath the shock and the immediate spike of arousal. He’d been wary of giving Cardan leave to do with him whatever he liked, despite the seductive pleasure of it. Some part of him had rankled at the idea that Cardan might think of him as lesser, as subordinate to his whims.

Somehow though, the threat to his pride no longer seems so immediate — or perhaps he’s just ceased to care. Either way, the hint of menace that colours Cardan’s pronouncement sends want shivering through him just an instant before the scent of blood hits his nose.

It’s instantly recognizable: that vibrant and intriguing scent that is both so tempting and utterly alien. In the past handful of weeks alone, as he’s sampled him now and again, the smell of Cardan’s blood has grown shockingly appetizing, for all that it possesses none of the qualities he thinks of as being characteristic of a living, bleeding person. He finds that he can already almost taste the heady savour of it; suddenly his thirst, usually a quiet ache, feels sharp and terrible.

But for a sudden indrawn breath, and a tensing of his hands on Cardan’s thighs, Liem goes very still.]

[ The prick of pain sends a rush of excitement through him — as do those hands, as does the tension in Liem’s stillness. He doesn’t have to wonder which part of him delights in this: it’s the part that always wants to be the centre of attention, that wants to be wanted. Even if he must bleed for it — maybe because he must bleed for it.

He pulls in a heady breath, roses and Liem and the sharp scent of his own blood, and drags the pad of his finger sharply over the fang, slicing it open. It throbs immediately, angry and hot, blood spilling over for a moment before he shifts his hand, pressing the cut to the pillow of Liem’s tongue.

It won’t be enough, he imagines. But that’s fine; his smile is knife-sharp and knowing. He watches his husband with naked interest — as if Cardan is the predator, as if Liem is the one who’s at risk of getting caught in his fangs.

His grip on the tie relaxes; the silk slips through his fingers, loose but not quite free. Not yet. ]

[The scent of blood pervading Liem's senses, filling his nose, his mouth, makes the drumming of Cardan's pulse incessantly loud in Liem's ears. He is painfully, thrillingly aware of just how close his husband is; how simple it would be to catch him in his hands and — instead of a finger — sample his wrist, or his throat. The blood welling from a pricked finger is nothing but an amuse-bouche compared to the extent of his thirst. It does nothing but sharpen his appetite.

The press of Cardan's bloodied fingertip against his tongue drags a low, hungry sound from his throat. Liem swallows involuntarily, lips and tongue capturing Cardan's fingers inside his mouth, and frustration blooms over his face beneath his husband's intent, sharp-edged regard, tightening the skin about his eyes. He cannot help but imagine how he might pull Cardan down, upset his balance and get on top of him, how quickly then that knowing smile would turn to surprise—

It is not how he had expected to be driven mad, but it is driving him mad nonetheless.

It does not keep him from sucking on the fingers in his mouth, unwilling to relinquish them, despite the tease they present. His gaze remains locked on Cardan's, caught between reluctant submission and barely-leashed hunger, like a wild cat eyeing the beastmaster in a circus ring. The hands on Cardan's thighs slide up to find the tight curve of his ass; he's still not entirely sure he isn't about to upend his husband straight into the water.]

[ Yes, this is what he had wanted, exactly this: Liem's hunger and his focus, his desire and his restraint. He shivers against the grip of those hands, against the caged look in Liem's eyes, his eyelids dipping low with pleasure. Every part of Cardan feels alight with the thrum of anticipation -- alive in a way he cannot help but crave. Even the cut's sting is but an added layer of sensation, an addictive pleasure.

Liem sucking on his fingers sends a heady pulse of lust straight to his cock.

They both know he wants more than the mere drops Cardan is allowing him. He could take it. He could take it, or he could let Cardan leash him with naught but his word and his will. And if he doesn't--

The precipice yawns before Cardan again, and he shivers with its heady thrill.

He pulls his fingers back gently -- or attempts to, anyway. Though he speaks with the certainty of command, his timbre is quiet and uncommonly warm. ]

You'll have your fill. But not yet.

Release me.

[ He cannot make Liem do so. He has no illusions about his ability to fend off his husband if he decides to go for Cardan's throat, nor would he resist him: he's more than earned Liem's thirst, and he aches for the bite of his fangs just as well. Still, Cardan is giving him a choice between certainty and obedience -- taking what he wants or leaving himself in Cardan's fickle, cruel hands.

And he's curious, after all, to see which Liem desires more. ]

[For another heady, teetering moment, Liem considers the idea of shedding his compliance, getting Cardan beneath him and seeing how well that poise of his holds up when Liem has his hands all over him and his teeth in his neck. He doesn't know what kind of reaction he might earn if he were the one to take liberties with Cardan for once, but the prospect of finding out is… intriguing. And he likes the idea of sowing a little doubt about whether Cardan can do whatever he likes with him and simply expect him to submit.

Cardan's pulse throbs against his tongue, little more than a frustrating temptation.

But at the sound of that quiet command, enough to make the want in him ache all the more insistently, some of the tension subsides from him. Liem allows the fingers to pull free of his mouth, eases the too-deliberate grip of his hands — even if the way he looks at Cardan is too intent to be called especially obedient.

He says, dryly,] Are all Folk such inveterate gamblers?

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