Lion Head Mesa Hate [m]e baby, maybe I'm a piece of art

there was an exhale that sent hot breath across the side of the priestess' face, a soft chuckle. khusobek set his jawline against the curve of her throat. "as you command, hemet."

and then no more words; her voice would be hers to hide, the mazoi taking no moment or retiring to her hallowed chambers; there, in the little space of redstone beside which any might walk at any moment, he answered the demand of melody and in the end slaked his own.

his broad chest swelled with a breath as khusobek caught it, backing some steps from the priestess with a lofty grin. "you will understand i must return to my duties." he paused. "order me again at your leisure." his eyes glowed with pleasure and some slight teasing, and unless melody paused him now, the sated, smirking mazoi would turn away.