[ Jarlaxle gets his wish. Astarion obviously loves the rough treatment, to say nothing of the bite, which practically lights his nerves up with pleasure. Astarion's cries are loud, unabashed, now, a song of pleasure pulled sweetly from his lips. He's not afraid to show it. He'd always been told that his cries were the sweetest. Surely even Loviatar would be glad to hear these offerings.
Astarion reaches up to grab onto Jarlaxle, digging his nails into the man's back, holding tight. Just as the drow had promised, he clings onto him as his body is given such perfect pleasure, and pain that grounds him besides.
He finds nothing to be ashamed of here. It feels good, and he wants Jarlaxle to know that, too. His only hesitation had been for the drow's sake, but now given permission, he'll sing beautifully for him. ]
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Astarion reaches up to grab onto Jarlaxle, digging his nails into the man's back, holding tight. Just as the drow had promised, he clings onto him as his body is given such perfect pleasure, and pain that grounds him besides.
He finds nothing to be ashamed of here. It feels good, and he wants Jarlaxle to know that, too. His only hesitation had been for the drow's sake, but now given permission, he'll sing beautifully for him. ]