Never in his life has Kaz Brekker been so easily distracted as when Jesper Fahey's mouth is on him. It's like the rest of the world vanishes and the only thing that matters to him is the heat of the other man against him. The press of his long, lean body. The kisses on his skin. The strong fingers that card through his hair, and adjust him as Jesper needs him.
Not even thinking about resisting, wanting more and unable to hide that from the low groan that rumbles through him and his eyes falling closed. For a moment giving himself over to everything that Jesper is offering, the things he gives him, both in actions and words.
The words are everything he needs to hear, the knowledge that he had done the right thing. Kaz regrets very little in his life, and most before he became the man he is, but giving them their freedom is the one and only he's truly hesitated on and not known exactly how it would turn out.
Those words assure him they were always the right decision.
"If you keep this up," he murmurs, his hand moving to expertly draw Jesper's shirt from his trousers, giving a soft sound that might have been a whimper as his fingers brush against warm skin, fingertips bared and taking it all in as he always does when he takes these chances. "I'm going to forget what we need to talk about. Like the reality that if we do this, it could well signal a war."
People defecting to another camp might signal building up forces to one side while weakening another. Which, well, it kind of was even if that wasn't their goal.
no subject
Not even thinking about resisting, wanting more and unable to hide that from the low groan that rumbles through him and his eyes falling closed. For a moment giving himself over to everything that Jesper is offering, the things he gives him, both in actions and words.
The words are everything he needs to hear, the knowledge that he had done the right thing. Kaz regrets very little in his life, and most before he became the man he is, but giving them their freedom is the one and only he's truly hesitated on and not known exactly how it would turn out.
Those words assure him they were always the right decision.
"If you keep this up," he murmurs, his hand moving to expertly draw Jesper's shirt from his trousers, giving a soft sound that might have been a whimper as his fingers brush against warm skin, fingertips bared and taking it all in as he always does when he takes these chances. "I'm going to forget what we need to talk about. Like the reality that if we do this, it could well signal a war."
People defecting to another camp might signal building up forces to one side while weakening another. Which, well, it kind of was even if that wasn't their goal.