[ He can hear that hunger in his voice, the roughness to it, he can see the way his hands still tremble when he pushes his hair back. Wash's voice sounds completely indifferent, almost bored, but there's still that something in his own eyes that gives him away. Not quite satisfied, not just yet. ]
Did you really. Couldn't tell. [ A dismissiveness to his tone. Slightly cold, even as he's keeping his hand on his shoulder, squeezing, pushing him back against the bark. A tilt of his head, again, his other hand lifting to just barely trace a line across his throat with the back of one knuckle. ] Beg, and I'll consider it.
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Did you really. Couldn't tell. [ A dismissiveness to his tone. Slightly cold, even as he's keeping his hand on his shoulder, squeezing, pushing him back against the bark. A tilt of his head, again, his other hand lifting to just barely trace a line across his throat with the back of one knuckle. ] Beg, and I'll consider it.