[ graves would like it, too. which is why he continues, taking his time with him, drawing on his bottom lip, then deepening the kiss. graves is good at it, at sparking passion, urging sensuality, bringing it out of credence lazily, wanting him to enjoy every sensuous moment of it.

there is passion in their kisses, and he enjoys just how petulant he is, how he asserts himself and tells him he's not a child. ] I like kissing you. I like feeling the way you learn. Can you tell?

[ he murmurs. ] You're picking little tricks up from me already. [ he's kissing him again, a different way this time, tongue pressing up gently against tongue, easing into his mouth to explore him, as skilled as he is fervent in his desire for him. this is credence, giving himself over to him, innocent and untouched, and graves will have all of him. ]