Astarion Ancunín

Jedao shrieks, warm little yelps of half-delighted pain, panting and shivering as he has to put effort into not squirming away - or closer once again. He gives an especially low, emphatic whimper, squeezing his eyes shut, when Astarion presses on the small, deep cuts around the base of his dick, washcloth shivery-cool and dripping as it wipes the thick blood out of his pubic hair. Despite the cold, it's clear he was telling the truth: he's starting to get just a little bit hard again already. Once he's clean, though, he just smiles lazily, and goes to pick up his clothes, groaning every time he has to bend or twist to shimmy them on.