Arrow Lake [m] cool about it

ah — her eyes brightened. he was like them, like she and her wife, and this sweetened silvertongue on the handsome young dancer, more than he knew. in affection she reached to trail her teeth in a sharp hot nip along wren's flank, grinning slyly; and then they spun to their respective companions and she filled her ears with each sound the pale man might manage to unwind from the sinuous long throat of the woman she adored; and the sharpfang herself set to complete focus on the pretty one with the accented tongue. she woke them both with slow touches, pausing if it seemed he was hesitant, encouraging otherwise; suggestive, now, that he allow his eyes to watch only the other man, for silvertongue would not be parted from wren's presence and did not think her wife would allow it otherwise; perhaps such visions might be instrumental, useful, until the embrace was at last true. she would take him through the most sensual of her practices, for though it was not her nor her body he wanted, it should at least be memorable in sensation, or so she believed.

***

wholly enlivened, wakened, warmed, silvertongue kept the lovely other close afterward, if he wished, allowing him to set the terms of their contact until wren had turned back to her, and laughingly — ah! they passed one another with a heated kiss, and now she set her eyes on the pale man and teased him with an arch of her brow, a brazen wetting of his lips with her tonguetip, a gentle laugh as if to ask if he needed another moment to collect himself.