Rosewater Oasis [m] i breathe dusk

nectanebo's words are molten, slipping into the heat between them like a whispered spell and samirseti allows himself to be worshipped. it is as if he is a living idol beneath the caress of his alay-basi.

pharaoh brings his head backwards, to allow for more of his throat to be exposed. begging; a whine soft and quiet slipping past black lips. asking for the man to take his neck in his jaws, to touch him roughly, to take what the pharaoh offers him with no mercy.

a slow breath passes through agaping jaws. he watches nectanebo through half-lidded eyes. he brings a paw to cup the man's cheek, rough in manner, commanding without words but with touch. waste no time, nectanebo.

a beg. and it is this submissiveness he will offer only him, in these moments where they are alone and no other watches. it is to his strength he wishes to be contented. take your pharaoh. and it brings a deep, fulfilling pleasure to know the man would. he would kill, he would die, he would live—if commanded by his pharaoh.

now pharaoh wants nothing from him but the grinding of two bodies. the fill of his need, to be sated with hips vigorous against his own.