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Summary
Is there such a thing as one too many spins on the 'please' line? Here's mine.
‘Why don’t you come here?’ Astarion leans forward, spreading his knees, placing his elbows on them.
‘I’m just fine where I am,’ she stretches out her legs, rocking her feet quickly from side to side.
‘Please?’ He raises his eyebrows.
‘You’ll have to ask better than that.’
‘I see,’ Astarion grins with his lip between his teeth.
He gets up, and Calathea lets out a faint note of excitement. Astarion rounds the fire, looking down at her, sat on a crate, and stops just out of her reach. Calathea stretches her neck up, longing to feel his touch. He smiles wickedly, coming closer and screwing up his nose. She leans her head back to keep looking at him. Astarion bends, his face so close she can feel his breath.
‘I don’t ask twice, love,’ he tips his head to the side. ‘We’ll see who’s saying please by the end of the night.’