Pleasure
The tie is silk and mother wraps it tightly around his throat. Blaise resists the urge to shuffle even as his breaths grow labored.
She trails a delicate finger across his cheekbone, and he follows the lingering sensation, eyes half closed as if hypnotized by her touch. Her fingers land on his lips, and he lazily kisses the tips of them. It’s a familiar dance. He’s watched it hundreds of times before with her various lovers - and, at nineteen, he’s long since graduated into the role himself, always ready and willing to entertain her when she tired once more of her other lovers. He loves being the center of her attention.
She circles around him, her hands trailing up and down his sides before resting at the band of his trousers. He lets himself shudder but keeps his grin and loose limbs - a shiver of pleasure he thinks and lets himself be all body no mind. “What a good boy,” she purrs, breath hot against his neck.
He smirks, and with practiced ease, catches her hand before it wanders too far. He feels a pang but ignores it.
Instead he pressed her hand on his lips. “It’s always my pleasure, mother.”
“Oh no, my love,” she giggles, pulling him towards her by the tie on his neck, a predatory look in her eyes. She bites his lip and he turns it into a kiss.
“The pleasure’s all mine.” He chokes.