[it sends a bit of a shiver down Leona's spine to see Cater crumble before him like this, panting and hazy and covered in flush. all this desperate want in Leona's direction taps into more than just a pheromone-induced need. it's too much, too terrifying, normally, to let himself want things like being looked at with so much desire over the gazes of contempt and fear and disregard; so much so that under normal circumstances Leona's blinded himself to anything but the negative.
here with Cater, there's no sense of fear coming off him at all. it makes sense. Cater's a capable mage, barely showed fear in front of him at the spelldrive tournament, but it's disarming, too. Leona, just as desperate for warmth as he is right now for sensuality, can't think about anything but how very much he needs to be right here, right now.
Cater leans up to kiss Leona's jaw and Leona leans back down into it, further still until he can bury his nose in Cater's copper-thread hair, drinking in the pheromone-tangled scent of it. he moves an arm to curl it under Cater's back in such a way that his palm cradles the back of Cater's head, both keeping him close and hopefully putting just a little less strain on him— a move that might come across more intimate than expected from Leona. but a lion mates sensually, deliberately, and Leona is no different. It's not as if there is no urgency to breed his partner, but a rush prevents him from enjoying it— and he wants to feel every inch he can inside of Cater with the measured pace of his thrusts.]
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here with Cater, there's no sense of fear coming off him at all. it makes sense. Cater's a capable mage, barely showed fear in front of him at the spelldrive tournament, but it's disarming, too. Leona, just as desperate for warmth as he is right now for sensuality, can't think about anything but how very much he needs to be right here, right now.
Cater leans up to kiss Leona's jaw and Leona leans back down into it, further still until he can bury his nose in Cater's copper-thread hair, drinking in the pheromone-tangled scent of it. he moves an arm to curl it under Cater's back in such a way that his palm cradles the back of Cater's head, both keeping him close and hopefully putting just a little less strain on him— a move that might come across more intimate than expected from Leona. but a lion mates sensually, deliberately, and Leona is no different. It's not as if there is no urgency to breed his partner, but a rush prevents him from enjoying it— and he wants to feel every inch he can inside of Cater with the measured pace of his thrusts.]