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Summary
“Wait,” Cala replies. “There’s something I wish to do.” He bends down to kiss Maia, and his lips are soft and wet. If the maza showed any restraint earlier in the evening, it is long gone, and his kiss is open- wanton and wanting. “Maia, canst thou take more?” asks Cala breathlessly.
Maia makes a helpless gesture to Beshelar, confused. “What more can there be?” he asks in turn.
“If thou wouldst allow me…” Cala murmurs, and it has a note of begging about it, “if thou wouldst allow me too.”