[ Trahearne takes a step, and another, almost stumbling as his shin hits the edge of the bed. He inhales sharp, suddenly drawn out of the reverie in Syrlya's lips.
But when he pulls back in that moment, his breath catches--Syrlya's face, his lips, his eyes all stir a deep, heady desire, one like he's never felt with anyone else, in the pits of his gut. With his arm steadying him at the waist, he slowly brings his knee up onto the bed, encouraging Syrlya to sit on it as he lowers himself over him.
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But when he pulls back in that moment, his breath catches--Syrlya's face, his lips, his eyes all stir a deep, heady desire, one like he's never felt with anyone else, in the pits of his gut. With his arm steadying him at the waist, he slowly brings his knee up onto the bed, encouraging Syrlya to sit on it as he lowers himself over him.
He leans in, lips scarcely brushing Syrlya's. ]
I love you.
[ He kisses him. His eyes slip shut. ]
I want you.