Kire feverishly thought about how to stop this misunderstanding. He frantically thought to find some solution so that the King is quickly satisfied and leaves him alone.
Hands in confusion slid along the back, buttocks... to strong thighs.
He was not disgusted: the fruity taste of silk lips and gentle touches of an elastic tongue, the subtle nutty aroma of marble skin with woody notes.
"And what do I smell like?" Eriolan squinted with one eye, noticing the desperate impression on his partner's face.
"I have a heightened sense of smell," Kire said, embarrassed. "You have... the noble aroma of a rich gentleman."
"You saw for yourself what I eat. No meat or blood to keep my body clean."
He continued, breathing excitedly, kissing him with ecstasy, moving him onto the bed, slowly undoing the small buttons of Kire's fitted camisole and white undershirt.
