In this scene, Luc and Izzorah have finished dinner, and retired to a living area nearby.
Luc had lived thousands of years. He was a master in the art of Sempervian Compulsion. He could seduce Izzorah and make him think it was all his idea. Izzorah already had a few drinks in him. He wouldn't even resist.
But what was the point of that? Luc wanted a relationship, not a romp. He wanted Izzorah to yield because he wanted to. No... he wanted Izzorah to be more than a partner. A true equal.
What Luc wanted, Luc got. In business, in war, in life, no one stood in the way. Not once Luc decided to pursue a thing.
But this was his precious Izzorah.
So now, Luc must wait, when what he wanted was to reach out... and take what so rightfully should belong to him.
Izzorah folded his hands before him, head down. Waiting, perhaps, for Luc to make the next move.
Luc took a step toward him, but placed himself beside Izzorah, facing the opposite direction. "You're a wonderful dinner companion."
"Thank you. I hope I didn't bore you with all that talk about home."
"Not at all. I find it...alien, but fascinating."
Izzorah said nothing.
Luc waited. A full minute passed with neither speaking.
Oh, screw this indecision! He should take the Kin to bed and be done with it. Luc knew he was going to. Why should he wait for the inevitable? No point in fighting the obvious. Izzorah wanted him. Luc wanted Izzorah. He should take him. Now.
But Luc's sensible side barred the way. He had promised. The Kin needed to know Luc respected him. Yes, Izzorah had committed himself, but it was still his move.
Luc must do the honorable thing. He shifted his weight, spreading his legs. It did nothing to ease the discomfort his arousal caused. Inner heat rivaled his craven desire for the wet friction of Kin fangs and rough tongue. Luc craved Izzorah's guileless eyes and smile, his artless desire to please. The innocence that personified him.
This young Kin could smell emotion. He had to know Luc burned. Why was he waiting? Or perhaps that was why. Had Luc frightened him with the intensity of his need? Perhaps Izzorah guessed what Luc wanted to do to him, take from him, and would run screaming in the other direction.
Instead, Izzorah took a step back and then set one foot between Luc's, looked up. "You told me when I was ready, to come to you." The emerald cat's eyes had gone wide. His smile faltered. "I'm ready. I know what I want. You."
