Cassius had his own set of rules when it came to indulging in acts of the flesh. While he prided himself on his restraint -- his ability to abstain when necessary -- sex was, unfortunately, the most effective way to clear his head, to regain the control he so often lacked in his life as a royal of Vissai.
He preferred to keep things casual, low-key, without strings. If possible, he favored men of lower status -- it made things easier. Less complicated.
The pretty, sun-kissed squire that lay beside him was a good example.
Cassius hummed low, a soft flicker of pleasure moving through him as Ursa traced idle patterns along the muscle of his arm. At his words, he let out a quiet chuckle, rough with intimacy. "Aren't I?"
While his life of duty was littered with insecurities -- of place, of purpose -- in matters of pleasure, Cassius held none. His ability to read others, to find patterns, to work out what came next made him an extraordinary lover. His arrogance there, at least, was well earned.
He leaned subtly into Ursaโs touch as the other exhaled, breath warm against the shell of his ear -- the question beneath it eager, shyly anticipatory.
Cassius caught the squireโs wrist in a single, controlled motion, his grip firm -- just shy of painful. He shifted, closing the distance until their lips hovered a breath apart.
โIโll consider it,โ he murmured, their breath mingling, โif you beg prettily enough.โ