[The kisses and the brush of Gale's beard over his skin leaves a pleasant shiver running down Astarion's spine. His arousal has yet to fully flag, and his lover's touch only serves to keep it alive, smoldering. He breathes a laugh, bringing his hands to rest on Gale's arms, gently urging the wizard's touch to where he wants it the most.]
Having me in your arms, is it? I can certainly see the appeal.
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Having me in your arms, is it? I can certainly see the appeal.