"Mon joli chat," Asher whispers, rapt as Nathaniel arches and writhes, as his cries fill the air. He bows his head as his grip on the chain relaxes, running his tongue over his initial carved into Nathaniel's chest, lapping up the blood with a soft, pleased hum that is as close to a purr as Asher ever gets.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-10-03 06:57 am (UTC)