[Aziraphale continues to taste Crowley's hand, kissing each one of his knuckles and tracing his tongue along the lifeline of his palm. He presses his lips against the inside of his wrist, trembling softly in Crowley's embrace. So many places to touch and bring pleasure, too innumerable to list, but the angel wants to find them all.]
Mmm... good...
[There's little else he can say in return, not while recovering from Crowley's mouth upon his ear. He puts the book back on the nightstand, his little glasses following.]
I don't think I can read any more, my dear... not when you're distracting me so...
no subject
Mmm... good...
[There's little else he can say in return, not while recovering from Crowley's mouth upon his ear. He puts the book back on the nightstand, his little glasses following.]
I don't think I can read any more, my dear... not when you're distracting me so...