[Those breaths did little to help, pressure bubbling inside him. Gale's grip in Astarion's hair tightens; he forces himself to relax his fingers, not wanting to hurt him, unable to consider that he might just enjoy a little pain with his pleasure. He can ask later, when he can think through the thundering of his heart and the thrum of the orb.
Gale gnaws on his lower lip, feeling his hips start to buck of their own accord as he's overwhelmed with sensation, Astarion's hold over him leaving him aching. It's a far cry from bonding in the Weave - rather than feeling his lover's pleasure through the very essence that makes them, manipulating it to maximize the enjoyment of their coupling, Gale has no power here, is under Astarion's spell until the vampire sees fit to release him.
And yet, he doesn't feel trapped. Not threatened, not diminished, not an unequal in any way. Embarrassed at the noise he's making, certainly, but there's elation in his ecstasy, joy in knowing Astarion cares for him enough to want him to feel this way. For all his licentious moaning, he can't help but smile, too. He releases the ledge, only for his hand to find its way to Astarion's shoulder - he squeezes tightly, trying to convey even a modicum of he's experiencing.
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Gale gnaws on his lower lip, feeling his hips start to buck of their own accord as he's overwhelmed with sensation, Astarion's hold over him leaving him aching. It's a far cry from bonding in the Weave - rather than feeling his lover's pleasure through the very essence that makes them, manipulating it to maximize the enjoyment of their coupling, Gale has no power here, is under Astarion's spell until the vampire sees fit to release him.
And yet, he doesn't feel trapped. Not threatened, not diminished, not an unequal in any way. Embarrassed at the noise he's making, certainly, but there's elation in his ecstasy, joy in knowing Astarion cares for him enough to want him to feel this way. For all his licentious moaning, he can't help but smile, too. He releases the ledge, only for his hand to find its way to Astarion's shoulder - he squeezes tightly, trying to convey even a modicum of he's experiencing.
Somehow, he's sure Astarion knows.]