Northstar Vale & prayer-pale stars that pass the drowsing-incensed hymns (mtr.)

yes.

despite having roused herself into the world of the waking, andraste still appears to be feeling the effects of her good dream. the pitch of her hips, the scent of her arousal. it was a cruel sort of curiosity that makes melkor wondering if his phantom-self could bring her to completion ( and doubts it ). ❝yes,❞ he rasps, salmon pink tongue darting out to draw against his own jowls. what was the point in lying? ❝i'd much rather you writhe beneath me rather than for a dreamed version of me.❞ comes melkor's admittance after a small pause with a shift of his weight upon their shared stonebed.