Seeing the blond kneel so quickly drew Raksha's attention away from the ghosts of memory. After a moment, his stomach unknotted, the heat of desire increasing in its place. The tension and desperation simmered between them, prickling across Raksha's skin. Rather than immediately follow through on his words, elegant uninjured fingers wove their way into the blond hair now level with his hip. Tightened for a moment, then resumed their gentle stroking. It was as much to torture himself as the blond.
Golden eyes met those staring up at him, studying the expression in them. He was surprised by the trust offered. He had been in that position before, by choice, without a hint of the same. But then he hadn't been looking for trust or safety when he'd sought out this kind of play. And certainly not when it had been taken by force. A part of him wanted to skip the game and just bend the blond over, taking what he wanted. Not without giving pleasure, but quick and hard. But he didn't, iron self-control winning out. His injured hand was mobile enough to push his pants down enough. The fingers curled in the blond hair tightened in command.