[ graves tenses very minutely for only a few moments when he feels the kiss below his ear, the titillating graze of teeth and the heated press of lips and more -- as if credence is marking him for himself somehow, settling back into his territory and assuring himself that everywhere is where he's left it.
graves understands the feeling very well, and he leans into it after, curious and just a little turned on. he knows he won't push the matter, but the yearning for credence, for more, is curling in the pit of his stomach, a fire that simmers under his skin like a powerful, undeniable thing. the only reason why this is easier to quell is because of his awareness that credence has only just experienced something harrowing. he makes a soft, inaudible noise at his attentions, his hand coming to cradle the back of his head, tangling in his dark hair. ]
Credence. [ he breathes, soft and private. is he telling him to stop or continue? for the first time in a long while, he's not too clear on that. ] You must be tired.
no subject
graves understands the feeling very well, and he leans into it after, curious and just a little turned on. he knows he won't push the matter, but the yearning for credence, for more, is curling in the pit of his stomach, a fire that simmers under his skin like a powerful, undeniable thing. the only reason why this is easier to quell is because of his awareness that credence has only just experienced something harrowing. he makes a soft, inaudible noise at his attentions, his hand coming to cradle the back of his head, tangling in his dark hair. ]
Credence. [ he breathes, soft and private. is he telling him to stop or continue? for the first time in a long while, he's not too clear on that. ] You must be tired.