[In his blindness he follows the sound of her footsteps and the shift of her robes. So when her hand coils around his hair, he feels the warmth of her at his back. Bending in slight to allow her to whisper in his ear. His eye flutters, losing focus on the wall at the brush of her breath against his skin. Breeds the flame within him that when she comes around again to catch his eye it is a bit more direct, a bit more ravenous.

His hands release from behind his back to begin tugging the shirt out of his breeches. His eye remains on her while he disrobes as she has requested.]

Doesn’t that depend on what you want? How you would like to be…revered tonight.

[ His answer is belligerent, knowing what she asked of him instead. It’s not as though he is short of a heated boy’s fantasy of the many ways he has thought of her between yesterday and today. How he looks at her while he thinks of them now. Pulling his shirt over his head and letting it drop onto the rug at his feet. ]

I want to be at your pleasure. You have my hands, my tongue….my cock. [ How vulgar to speak so commonly before his mother. His smile grows a bit wider.

Speaking as he eases the eyepatch off his head. His silvery hair unbound underneath is released from where it had been previously tucked, spilling around his shoulder. Sapphire eye between the split scar gleaming at her in the dark. He feels vulnerable in a strange way and yet empowered there before her. A strange strange feeling.]