champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between
With a crooked smile as he realises there's magic at work as well, he glances briefly up at Thorn with an expression that's nothing but open admiration, before it promptly fades back into pleasure as his hand moves of its own accord, seemingly, to try and work at a faster pace. He's more than approving of the nickname, leaning in to gently nip at the other man's lower lip, before summoning some kind of self-control so this doesn't end before it's begun.
"I want you to fuck me," he decides, his voice a breathy whisper against the courtesan's jaw. "Right up against this table. Gods, I want them to be able to hear us in the House of Midnight." Laughing breathlessly and forcing himself back away from Hawthorn if only so they might change their positions, Mateo gives himself a second so he might calm himself down from the urge to simply masturbate the time away.
Shimmying out of his pants (if they can be called as such, there's more hole than fabric) and kicking them to the side, he eagerly braces against the table and glances expectantly over his shoulder for the other man.
"I want you to fuck me," he decides, his voice a breathy whisper against the courtesan's jaw. "Right up against this table. Gods, I want them to be able to hear us in the House of Midnight." Laughing breathlessly and forcing himself back away from Hawthorn if only so they might change their positions, Mateo gives himself a second so he might calm himself down from the urge to simply masturbate the time away.
Shimmying out of his pants (if they can be called as such, there's more hole than fabric) and kicking them to the side, he eagerly braces against the table and glances expectantly over his shoulder for the other man.
