Luneshale Pass Benim.

Samirseti allowed a soft rumble of amusement to escape his chest at the question, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the smaller wolf beneath him. The flicker of Arslan’s tongue against the corner of his mouth had been a gesture Samir found both satisfying and emboldening. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against the edge of Arslan’s jaw.

“I have many names,” he said at last, his voice low, intimate. “Samirseti, Second son of Pharaoh Rahotep.” He spoke it into the air, but he did not stop there. His mouth trailed from Arslan’s mouth to his throat, where he pressed kisses.

“Suten sa Ra,” He breathed out, lingering faint bites to the thick coat of his chest, “Prince of Ta-Senet.”

He lets his eyes flourish upwards to Arslan’s from where his head floats between his forelegs. “Each one I yearn to hear upon your breath, Nefer.”

Samir’s paw eased off Arslan’s chest, but his presence remained heavy, his body still hovering close, his breath warm against the smaller wolf’s fur. “You asked for my name, and I have given it,” he murmured. “Now, give me yours.” His lips curled into a wicked smirk, his voice dipping further into a velvet growl. “I want to taste it on my tongue, as I’ve tasted everything else.”