[Wriothesley is a shivering and shuddering mess, overwhelmed by his orgasm and the sweet words the other showers him with. He’s flushed and panting and looks thoroughly debauched.

The definition of bliss.

And he tilts his head so he can bury his face into the crook of Lorenz’ neck and nuzzle against the other. His mind is still catching up, but his body seems intent on seeking the warmth of another and enjoying the press of skin on skin.

He lets out a hoarse laugh.] My legs feel like they’re made of jelly. Amazing. I feel amazing. I didn’t think you could dirty talk like that. Really blew my mind you know.

[He’s still trying to catch his breath.]