Astarion is, by this point, not unaffected. Just watching the way Jedao whines and pants, the flex of muscle in his jaw and throat; he's half-hard himself, and his snug trousers really conceal nothing. The desire to go further, to take risks, feels raw and urgent - but he wants to do this again sometime, as well.
"Might I?" he wonders. "Need to tie you down? Or is it more that you don't want to embarrass yourself by squirming the way you'd like to?"
They've established that he can't really injure him, after all.
no subject
Astarion is, by this point, not unaffected. Just watching the way Jedao whines and pants, the flex of muscle in his jaw and throat; he's half-hard himself, and his snug trousers really conceal nothing. The desire to go further, to take risks, feels raw and urgent - but he wants to do this again sometime, as well.
"Might I?" he wonders. "Need to tie you down? Or is it more that you don't want to embarrass yourself by squirming the way you'd like to?"
They've established that he can't really injure him, after all.