It's what trickles through his head as the heat of their mouths press together. The weight of Jing Yuan's hands settling to slender hips and guiding even closer. The meet of his curiosity with a rolling flare of passion - a drop of that bold, bold heart pinned under the calm that keeps Jing Yuan in control of his slow march to oblivion. It's like glancing through the crack of a room and seeing nothing but golden light beyond... and Solomon is too curious, too mischevious, too foolhardy for his own good.
It's different. A different bewitching than staring into the eyes of a demon who would instantly charm any other. A different kiss than those dripping with narcissism and lust. A different hold than one who knew intimately the ways to twist a body's desires.
It's hesitant, and strong, and an instinct that feels far, far less like a fight. And in that way, it becomes something almkst terrifying.
With Jing Yuan's hands at his core, Solomon leads his own absent one upwards, to cup against that eager face as the fingers at Jing Yuan's neck travel to lightly press against his nape, to tangle fingers in that wave of thick hair and coax him, encourage him, with the slightest of tugs.
Tilting the younger man just so as he lets his lips part, he allows the kiss to deepen to meet that sensuality. It's just enough of an echo to be an answer, enough to offer a taste of him, but with enough openness to let Jing Yuan to keep choosing. Coaxing, enticing, the sensitive heat of his tongue at wait beyond the movement of their lips, but not quite reaching out.
Perhaps he really is more a demon now, for how the desire to bewitch every motion of this man still makes his chest pound. Tempt them first, tempt them hard, take the advantage without being taking advantage of in return.
Come to me, his actions beg sweetly, as his tongue traces lightly at the next opening of their mouths. Heated, intentional, but brief.
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It's what trickles through his head as the heat of their mouths press together. The weight of Jing Yuan's hands settling to slender hips and guiding even closer. The meet of his curiosity with a rolling flare of passion - a drop of that bold, bold heart pinned under the calm that keeps Jing Yuan in control of his slow march to oblivion. It's like glancing through the crack of a room and seeing nothing but golden light beyond... and Solomon is too curious, too mischevious, too foolhardy for his own good.
It's different. A different bewitching than staring into the eyes of a demon who would instantly charm any other. A different kiss than those dripping with narcissism and lust. A different hold than one who knew intimately the ways to twist a body's desires.
It's hesitant, and strong, and an instinct that feels far, far less like a fight. And in that way, it becomes something almkst terrifying.
With Jing Yuan's hands at his core, Solomon leads his own absent one upwards, to cup against that eager face as the fingers at Jing Yuan's neck travel to lightly press against his nape, to tangle fingers in that wave of thick hair and coax him, encourage him, with the slightest of tugs.
Tilting the younger man just so as he lets his lips part, he allows the kiss to deepen to meet that sensuality. It's just enough of an echo to be an answer, enough to offer a taste of him, but with enough openness to let Jing Yuan to keep choosing. Coaxing, enticing, the sensitive heat of his tongue at wait beyond the movement of their lips, but not quite reaching out.
Perhaps he really is more a demon now, for how the desire to bewitch every motion of this man still makes his chest pound. Tempt them first, tempt them hard, take the advantage without being taking advantage of in return.
Come to me, his actions beg sweetly, as his tongue traces lightly at the next opening of their mouths. Heated, intentional, but brief.
Show me the hunger of your heart.]