Jamie couldn't help the movement of his chest as he breathed hard, but he stilled, watching the blade warily. His feelings were mixed between apprehension and excitement. The thought that Lucien could angle that blade a little and cut him was both hot and frightening; the thought that he could just pick the wax off with such a dangerous thing, used precisely, and never hurt him with it, was tilted heavily toward the former emotion. The idea that he might turn it and kill Jamie pretty easily was tilted heavily toward the latter.
Still, it was hard to be too worried about it with the gorgeous scald of wax burning in his veins and the guy with the knife sitting on his cock. If nothing else, he'd lose out on some good dick if he did anything stupid. So Jamie watched the knife, shivered as it scraped him, but his hips rocked up in rhythm, meeting Lucien's thrusts against him.
Lucien keeps his pace steady, but for the most part he lets Jamie decide how to fuck him. He has his own task, after all, and while Jamie's cock feels good inside him, he has no intention of being distracted.
He glances at Jamie's face.
"Tsk, don't get distracted," he says with a wicked grin. His hand slides from Jamie's shoulder to press against his throat instead. Lucien is just as deliberate there as he is with the knife: he doesn't completely cut off air, but he could.. His attention drifts lower and he flicks more of the wax off with the knife edge, leaving red marks from both the burn and the drag of the blade.
The hand around his throat didn't really cause him pain in the traditional sense, but the pressure was good, the pressure was one of the few non-pain ways to make his brain decide that the Sight wasn't worth it right now, so he liked it just as much. He gave up on watching and laid his head back, stretching his neck out a little for that hand. If Lucien was gonna pull any shit he would have already, so Jamie just let himself feel, still rocking up into that extra-heated body.
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Still, it was hard to be too worried about it with the gorgeous scald of wax burning in his veins and the guy with the knife sitting on his cock. If nothing else, he'd lose out on some good dick if he did anything stupid. So Jamie watched the knife, shivered as it scraped him, but his hips rocked up in rhythm, meeting Lucien's thrusts against him.
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He glances at Jamie's face.
"Tsk, don't get distracted," he says with a wicked grin. His hand slides from Jamie's shoulder to press against his throat instead. Lucien is just as deliberate there as he is with the knife: he doesn't completely cut off air, but he could.. His attention drifts lower and he flicks more of the wax off with the knife edge, leaving red marks from both the burn and the drag of the blade.
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