[ In most instances, Wriothesley isn't afraid of admitting to what he wants. Why should anyone fear what they desire? But for once, he does hold some small reservation, slight as the body perched so deliciously against him. It's only that Lyney is hurt: he's offering himself, trying to get Wriothesley to want him out loud, and Wriothesley would fall in line and comply here and now if not for the post-ring, bruised up state of him. "I'm not made of glass", he had said--but maybe something in Wriothesley wants to treat him like he is just as Lyney wants to tease forth desire from between his lips. Carefulness never hurt anybody. ]
You could say I have an idea or two. [ He presses a quick kiss to Lyney's lips, almost chaste for the shape they're in, the way they're set together for friction and want. It's probably not the response Lyney wants--or the one his cock is begging for, for that matter--but he recognizes a critical junction when he sees it, and wants to make sure of all things when it comes to Lyney. ] ...But it's your call. If you're in pain...
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You could say I have an idea or two. [ He presses a quick kiss to Lyney's lips, almost chaste for the shape they're in, the way they're set together for friction and want. It's probably not the response Lyney wants--or the one his cock is begging for, for that matter--but he recognizes a critical junction when he sees it, and wants to make sure of all things when it comes to Lyney. ] ...But it's your call. If you're in pain...