"So, are we doing this or not?" Syryn asked the blond anti mage who was pinned under him.
Rowan had been trying to get some work done whilst sitting on the bed and relaxing after a hard day's work. But his mage had come to him from a bath, eyes shining with mischief.
He was now pinned to the bed and Syryn was sitting right over his crotch, moving his butt in a tantalising rhythm that turned Rowan hard. The anti mage's hands flew to Syryn's hips and held him in place.
"Clothes off, Ryn," he said in a low voice. "Someone's getting punished for distracting me from work."
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Another morning, another day of slogging through boring alchemy, Syryn thought in a drowsy stupor. He was still in bed and Rowan was pressed up against him like every other morning.
Syryn had a feeling that something was wrong. He had been too sleepy to figure out exactly what was it that was bothering him but now it was getting more obvious.