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Kylen’s chest heaved as he stood over Bleden Mark’s dissipating body, catching his breath. He gripped the hilt of his dagger, noting the squishing feeling of Mark’s odd, dark blood seeping between his fingers. It disappointed him to have to kill Bleden Mark. Such a waste. The young Fatebinder had been pining for him a bit, truth be told. Tall, commanding, scary. Just Kylen’s type. But alas, Kyros had given orders, and Bleden Mark was not the kind of man to bend to the will of some freshly born Archon. Handsome and amusing as he was, Bleden Mark had to die.
The Fatebinder - no, Archon - ran a blood covered hand through his dark hair, slicking it back with the visceral substance. His companions beside him seemed in disbelief, staring at him with...mixed emotions. This thrill of killing an Archon, with an entire court of witnesses surrounding him, was almost intoxicating. Kylen felt like going out and killing some more just to unleash this adrenaline. He’d almost forgotten Tunon.
“Master…,” the Archon of Justice croaked, hesitance evident in his voice. Being called such a title by Tunon, who moments before was his boss, sent a chill down Kylen’s spine. Not a bad chill. A more fun, enticing chill. Kylen looked up at the balcony above, sheathing his daggers and crossing his arms. His tanned, scarred arms dripped with blood and sweat. He wore an almost evil grin, knowing that Tunon would now bend to his will. And soon, so would the rest of the Archons. Or they would die.
“Master,” Tunon repeated, more certain this time, “if you’ll join me upstairs, I will pledge fealty to you in the lawful manner.” His blank, stoic mask stared down at Kylen, boring a hole into him. He carried all the usual, commanding demeanor that the Archon of Justice should. But Kylen had been enlightened to things as of late. He could not miss just how unnaturally frigid Tunon’s body was, how the oh so very human eyes behind the mask twitched at the corners. Kylen’s grin widened.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied. If he hadn’t been looking for it, he would have missed the way Tunon’s stance faltered for a moment. “I will join you. Alone.” He ignored Verse’s knowing snicker at his side. She was too much like him. He would have sooner guessed he was her brother rather than Barik.
Tunon seemed to hesitate a moment before bowing his head and backing away, disappearing further into the balcony. Once he was out of sight, Kylen turned to Verse and laughed, offering his fist, and she returned his gesture by pounding it with her own. Barik stood stiff, staring at Kylen with an unreadable expression. Well, literally, with that helmet obscuring his face. Siren’s face, however, was as rich with words as the library Kylen had set ablaze. She was disgusted, invigorated, nervous, excited. And blushing.
“You three wait outside,” Kylen said, turning to face his companions. “I have business with my new Adjudicator.” Verse began to speak, but was abruptly pulled away by her brother. Siren seemed delighted to distance herself, and followed quickly behind. Kylen snickered. Ahh, teenagers. Adjusting his armor, he began to make his way up the stairs to meet with Tunon, as requested, as usual, but this time on his terms. His heavy boots splashed in the pools of blood left by the trial. He made no eye contact with the others in the hall, but he could see in the corner of his eyes that they were bowing to him. Gods, it was like heroine. He’d reveled in the power being a Fatebinder had given him. The power of an Archon? This could surely only be outmatched by overthrowing Kyros himself. Herself?
Kylen approached Tunon’s throne, noting that they were, indeed, alone. The Archon was sat with his back straight, septer in one hand, the other gripping the edge of his arm rest. There was a faint smell of lavender and other such flowers, though Kylen could not place the source. The smell of blood and death was much stronger, however. If it bothered Tunon, he didn’t show it, like most things. The new Archon took long, strong strides up to Tunon, stopping only when he could feel he’d breached the Adjudicator’s personal space. The Archon of Justice had always carried a powerful presence, but the change in dynamics now was palpable. Kylen wanted to eat it all up.
There was a swallow and a pause before Tunon spoke, “Archon, by paying fealty lawfully, I had meant-” He cut himself off as Kylen raised a hand to silence him. The former Fatebinder could not wipe the grin from his face; how delicious this was, having ultimate power over Tunon.
“I know what you meant,” Kylen said, voice low. “But I am your Archon now, am I not?” His raised hand lowered to Tunon’s masked face, and he stroked the side of the white mask with his finger. Tunon did not flinch, but his eyes did. “I believe you shall swear fealty to me in whatever way I see fit. And you did just have me slaughter the object of my affections. I feel like you owe me one for that.”
Tunon gasped quietly at the mention that Kylen had harbored some sort of feelings for Bleden Mark, but before he could voice them, his words caught in his throat. Kylen grasped the edges of his stoic mask and began to lift it off his face. His hand flew up to protect his mask, but he forced himself to stop. He had just witnessed his former Fatebinder defeat the Archon of Shadows, just after decreeing an Edict without the force of Kyros behind him. If he didn’t want to die, it was in his best interest to follow Kylen’s orders. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little scared. And a little intrigued. He let his body still as Kylen lifted his beloved mask from his face.
Kylen could feel his heart beating rapidly inside his ribcage. This felt like a dream, or maybe he’d had too much to drink or to smoke. He pulled Tunon’s mask away, and was met with… Something he hadn’t expected. A young, but very tired face. A pale face with dark eyebrows, and a dark scar across his lips. Kylen knew that Tunon was much older than him, but to look upon his face he might guess he was younger. Without warning, needing to see more, Kylen ripped Tunon’s hood down, feeling the man twitch at the breach of privacy. He was met with the Archon’s uncovered head; a head of short black hair and dark brown eyes. Intense, deep eyes, and when Kylen looked into them he could now see the years Tunon carried. He had the look of a man who’s spirit had aged far greater than his own body, through years of stress and strife. Kylen wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to see, but this wasn’t it. Sure, all the Archons had once been human (presumably), but the power that flowed through them had changed them into something else entirely. With the dark mist that wafted off Tunon’s body like the mist of an iceberg, he’d sooner expected to see nothing but darkness under the mask. But here Tunon sat, looking entirely...plain.
A million questions ran through his head all in a second, but he pushed them aside. Now was not the time for questions. Now was the time for celebrating victory.
Tunon spoke up, voice soft and nervous, “I’m sure you’re...wondering…” But his sentence was cut off as Kylen smashed their lips together, as rough of a kisser as he was a fighter. Tunon’s eyes widened, and he instinctually pulled his head back. Kylen grabbed the back of his neck and forced him forward, keeping him locked in place. His tongue snaked out to lick Tunon’s surprisingly soft lips, and he practically keened with satisfaction as the felt the, his , Adjudicator’s lips part to allow his tongue inside. As he ravaged Tunon’s mouth, he dug his dirtied, blood-stained nails into the back of the Archon’s neck, his free hand running down Tunon’s torso. He worked to find a way to slip his hand inside, to feel Tunon’s bare skin, but couldn’t. Damn the man’s complicated robes.
Kylen grabbed Tunon’s hair (which he was surprised Tunon even had), and pulled the man’s head back. Tunon’s pale face was the slightest shade of pink now, his lips swollen, with saliva dripping down his chin. What an absolutely marvelous sight. Kylen nodded his head down at Tunon’s body and said, “Get these stupid robes off. No doubt you’re wearing way too many layers for the plans I’ve got for you.” Now with the mask removed, Kylen could see the nervousness, written plain as day all over Tunon’s face.
“Master, there are others just downstairs…” Tunon’s voice trembled. Kylen raised an eyebrow, unmoving and unfaltered. His apathy to the fact was apparent. Tunon steeled himself. “I do have private quarters, you know.” Kylen grinned at that, his eyes brightening like a child’s. “You think I sleep in this chair?”
“I didn’t think you slept at all,” Kylen answered, releasing his hold on Tunon’s hair. He stood straight, snatching the mask that he had dropped off Tunon’s lap. “Lead your Master to these private quarters, then.” He placed a hand on his hip and looked down at Tunon’s uncovered face with hunger. This dominance he felt was dizzying.
Tunon looked down, silently deciding something for himself, before standing and walking off to the right of the chamber. Kylen had half a mind to leave the mask sitting on the throne, as a message to anyone who came upstairs to check on them. A message that said he now held absolute command over the Bastard City, command enough to remove Tunon’s infamous mask. But he decided against it, gripping the mask tightly as he followed the other man. He watched as Tunon approached the wall and waved his hand over a specific spot, and by some sort of magic, the wall opened up like a doorway. Kylen could have guessed that such a mysterious man as the Archon of Justice kept his personal quarters a mystery as well. The two stepped inside, and Kylen was greeted with a large, intricate room, decorated in tapestries and paintings, detailed and beautiful in design. The smell of lavender was stronger here, and Kylen noticed several ornate bowls of poperie, surrounded by lit candles, casting the room in a soft orange glow. Against the far wall was Tunon’s bed, a canopy draped with purple fabrics looming atop it. To no surprise, it was made up perfectly, as if it had never been slept in. On the left side of the room was a large window, taking up almost the entire wall, overlooking the Bastard City beneath the court. The room looked like it served more as decoration, rather than having been lived in. How appropriate for an Archon such as Tunon.
As the two stepped inside, Tunon shut the door behind them, and Kylen heard him sigh. “Master, may I… Have my mask back?”
Kylen walked around the room, taking in the surroundings, pretending that he hadn’t heard Tunon’s request. There was a desk near the window, organized neatly with papers and quills, a small stack of books and journals adorning its corner. Kylen ran his hand over the desk slowly, noting that there was no dust, despite the room looking like it hadn’t been touched in decades. So Tunon did live here, and frequent this space, but he was just that neat and tidy. Kylen chuckled to himself. He turned and looked out the window, then turned back to the room. So many fun surfaces for Tunon to “swear fealty” to him. The bed, the desk, or against the window, for the thrill that the off chance someone might see them? They did have all night. Kylen hummed, stroking the Mask in his hands as he walked around the room, letting Tunon soak in the silence and uncertainty. He could almost feel the Adjudicator’s blood running cold with nerves. He felt like a predator, smelling the fear wafting off his prey. It sent a heat between his legs that he’d never felt before. He stepped up to Tunon slowly, letting his eyes wander up and down the man’s body. He’d always assumed Tunon was much taller than him, with his commanding aura and powers that allowed him to float into the air. But now, standing face to face with him, Kylen saw that Tunon was actually quite average. If he took the man’s shoes off, he might even be shorter.
Tunon opened his mouth to speak, but Kylen lifted a still-bloodied finger up and pressed it to the man’s lips. He leaned in and spoke softy, deep voice almost rumbling, “You may not have your mask back. I want to look at your face.” He tossed the mask to the side, letting it land on the plush carpet beneath them with a thunk. “You will remove your robes, as I requested.” Kylen lowered his finger and stepped back, until he was against the bed, and sat down on it. He leaned back a bit, crossing his arms, and watched Tunon with a sort of “go ahead” look.
Tunon cleared his throat. “You are...getting blood on…” He stopped himself when Kylen gave him a look, a look that no other man had given him in many years. It had been so, so very long since someone held any kind of authority over him, other than Kyros. It sent a multitude of feelings through him. But the one he noticed the most was the excitement. Kylen had always been dangerous; a force of nature that Tunon could barely keep contained. His all-seeing eyes had watched Kylen mercilessly strike down any foe, and demand obedience through fear, though all the while staying loyal to Tunon and enforcing Kyros’ law. He had grown quite fond of his Fatebinder, truth be told. And now that Kylen was an Archon, with the power to declare edicts… The future was a tangled mess. And Tunon felt a thrill go through him at the idea of it.
With his lips pursing nervously, Tunon began the process of removing his robes. Kylen watched as the Archon meticulously unbuttoned and unstrapped different layers, folding them and placing them gently on a nearby stool. It was slow, almost methodical, and entirely unsexy. But it wasn’t the show of stripping that was getting Kylen hot; it was the entire idea of this situation. He wished he had some liquor or drugs to go with this show. He watched Tunon’s movements intently, enamored by each new reveal of skin. There were more scars, some freckles, maybe a birthmark. Entirely human. Entirely common. Entirely unexpected. Though that black mist continued to come off him, like he were a living sauna producing steam. Without it, Kylen could completely forget who was standing in front of him.
Once Tunon was completely, remarkably naked, he looked back at Kylen and stood awkwardly. The former Fatebinder let his eyes roam, taking in every curve and dip. Tunon was toned, muscles firm, with scars that could only come from what must have been a violent past. There were so many things Kylen wanted to ask, wanted to learn, but that would have to come later. Kylen’s eyes wandered lower, taking in the sight between Tunon’s legs. Like the rest of him, his cock was unremarkable and quite average, but he couldn’t miss the fact that it was hardening. Kylen raised a hand and motioned for Tunon to come closer, which he did hesitantly. The new Archon reached out and placed his hands on the man’s bare hips, noting the shudder of the skin beneath his grip. With a growl, he decided to stop lollygagging. This moment was his, this Archon was his, and he was going to take every opportunity laid before him. He leaned forward and began licking and biting at Tunon’s stomach and chest, determined to leave possessive marks on every surface he could get to. He felt Tunon’s hands brace against his shoulders, small and soft whimpers filling the silent room.
In one swift motion, Kylen stood, grabbing Tunon and spinning him around, pinning his body down against the bed. Tunon didn’t make a sound, but the surprise was written in his wide eyes. Kylen unbuckled his boots and kicked them off before crawling onto the bed and looming over the Archon like a lion about to sink its fangs into an antelope.
“I don’t want you to hold back any sounds,” Kylen demanded, running a hand down Tunon’s torso, letting it slide over his thigh and feeling the man twitch. “Don’t deprive me of hearing the Archon of Justice beg for me.” He watched Tunon’s adam’s apple rise and fall with a nervous gulp. Kylen licked his lips and leaned down to that gorgeous neck, licking it up and down before biting hard, sinking his teeth in. He heard Tunon yelp, and maybe Kylen was a little rough by nature, but he wasn’t going to hold himself back, especially not now. His teeth continued to roam Tunon’s throat, leaving harsh, purple marks spotting over the pale skin like blooming roses. His hands clawed down the man’s sides, leaving dirty red marks that would absolutely need cleaned later.
Tunon had no idea what to do with his hands. Or, any other part of his body, for that matter. He was sure his mannerisms weren’t hiding anything - it was clear he hadn’t bedded down with anyone in quite some time. He began to lift his arms to touch Kylen back, maybe run a hand through his blood soaked hair, but he lowered them again. Kylen hadn’t given him any permissions, and as a man whose life had always been under a boot, Tunon knew better than to act without permission. Instead, he let his body react to Kylen’s ministrations, twitching and straining under the sharp and jagged points of his nails and teeth. He was glad he covered his entire body when he appeared before the public, otherwise Kylen’s possession of him would be broadcasted through the entire city. What would they think of him, then? The Archon of Justice, so openly and willingly spreading his legs for this new, dangerous threat against Kyros.
“Ah!” Tunon cried out in surprise, his thoughts snapping back to the matter at hand, when he felt Kylen’s knee press up between his legs.
“You’re still too quiet, Adjudicator,” Kylen purred. “I must remedy that.” He gripped Tunon’s thighs with a force that almost instantly roused bruises, and spread the man’s legs wide, settling himself between them. He stroked his fingers lightly over Tunon’s cock, which now stood at full attention, teasing gasps and moans out of him. Kylen almost came right there just thinking about the sight he was soon to see: Tunon’s flushed body writing underneath him, his hands gripping his own bed sheets tightly, his hips rocking back and forth against Kylen’s girth. It wasn’t so much just the body, though it was attractive, but it was the knowledge that this was Tunon, Archon of Justice, submitting his flesh to him. His scarred hand wrapped tightly around the man’s shaft, stroking quickly and roughly. Tunon’s mouth hung open, moaning like a lustful teenager, hips bucking up into Kylen’s fist. Kylen clucked his tongue and used his free hand to hold Tunon’s hips in place, chuckling lowly at the whimper he received in return.
Kylen leaned down, pressing his lips to Tunon’s ear, and whispered, “Do you want me to fuck you, Archon?” He felt the man’s cock twitch in his hand at his words. “How long has it been, I wonder? I bet you’re nice and tight. I can’t believe you were hiding a body like this under all those ugly layers. I can’t be the first man to hold you down like this. Do you like being dominated, Tunon? Being put in your place? You’ll take my cock like a good boy, won’t you?” Kylen continued, words of filth and praise filling Tunon’s mind, and fuck, Tunon was close now.
“M...Master,” he began, voice dripping with need, “I’m going to… I’m close… Please…” But to his dismay, Kylen removed his hand, leaving Tunon right on the edge. He whined, a sound that was probably embarrassingly high pitched, but he was so pent up that he didn’t care.
“Oh no no,” Kylen taunted, “I didn’t say you could come yet. You will come when I have decided you are allowed to.” Tunon’s dark eyes looked up at him, half lidded and drowning in desire. Kylen wanted to stay in this moment forever. “If you come before I say, you’ll be punished. Am I clear?” A part of Tunon wanted to see what kind of punishments Kylen had in mind, but he had to stop and remind himself who was above him. Letting out a shaking breath, Tunon nodded. He felt Kylen’s nails sink harshly into his hip. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
Tunon winced as he felt his skin break, and made a mental note to wash himself thoroughly after this, or suffer some nasty infections. “Apologies… Yes, Master.” Kylen smiled, satisfied, and removed his nails from the man’s skin.
Kylen felt his dick throbbing in his pants, begging for attention. There were so many things he wanted to do to Tunon that it was almost overwhelming. He took the opportunity to slide himself up Tunon’s body, straddling him between his thighs, until his crotch was close to the other man’s face. “You’re such a good boy for me, Tunon. I want you to suck me off. Get me nice and wet for you.”
The blush on Tunon’s face grew darker as he looked up at his Master. “I do have oils we can use.”
Kylen laughed. “Why am I not surprised? But that won’t get you out of the honor of feeling my dick in your throat.” In normal circumstances, Tunon would be put off by such fowl and blunt remarks. But in this situation, pinned under Kylen like a concubine, it sent blood right to his already throbbing member. “So, get to it.”
Tunon looked from Kylen’s eyes to his crotch and back. He didn’t move, and it was clear that he wanted Tunon to do it all himself. The Archon briefly wondered if he would be punished for doing a bad job, because he absolutely had not sucked a cock in many, many years. With shaking hands, he unzipped Kylen’s pants and reached in, pulling out his hardness. It was tanned like the rest of Kylen’s skin, and much bigger than Tunon’s. The man tried to ignore the nagging fact that Kylen had probably not bathed, was covered in sweat and blood, and would most likely taste fowl. He didn’t have much time to think on it, though, as Kylen slid up further on Tunon’s body and pressed the head of it against Tunon’s lips.
Kylen wanted to drag the process out, but the moment he felt those beautiful lips part, he found himself thrusting forward, forcing his cock down Tunon’s throat in one motion. His hands grabbed the sides of Tunon’s hair, pulling and tugging, and he pressed in so deeply that he could feel Tunon’s nose press against his pelvis. He felt the man swallowing and gagging around him, could feel saliva dripping out, around his dick and down Tunon’s chin. He had half a mind to test just how human Tunon was, to keep his dick settled nice and deep, cutting off the Archon’s airway. See how long he would last. But his desire for release outweighed his morbid curiosity, and he began to thrust in and out of that sweet, scarred mouth. He held Tunon’s head still as he fucked into it, feeling the Archon’s tongue press against the underside of his shaft. For a moment, he noticed some kind of strange, cold sensation, and looked down to see a good amount of black mist coming out of Tunon’s mouth. Well, that was interesting. But Tunon made no move to stop or slow Kylen’s thrusts, so he put it away into his multitude of other questions for later.
Tunon moaned around his Master, his throat constricting and sending vibrations through Kylen’s lower half. “Oohhh fuck…,” Kylen muttered, gripping Tunon’s hair so hard that he would pull it out if he wasn’t careful. He wanted to come down his throat, feel Tunon swallowing his seed, maybe paint those lovely lips white, but he stopped and pulled himself out before then. He preferred the thought of coming in his ass much better. Tunon gasped, filling his lungs with the air he had been barred from.
Kylen lifted himself off the Archon’s body, standing and looking over his work. Dark bruises decorated Tunon’s flesh like paint on a canvass, his natural blush blending with the swollen redness brought on by Kylen’s teeth. Smiling as Tunon looked up at him, he began to remove his own clothes. His body bore the weight of his violent life, marred and chewed up from a childhood of pit fighting and an adulthood of war. He loved the way Tunon’s eyes wandered, like a wanton whore in a brothel. Oh yes, Kylen could definitely get used to this.
“Produce these oils you were talking about,” Kylen said, now fully undressed, “and prepare yourself for me.” Tunon nodded, lifting himself up on his elbows and leaning over to a nightstand by the bed. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small vial of a sweet smelling liquid, which Kylen noticed was not full. Tunon uncorked it and let the viscous fluid coat his fingers. Once he was satisfied with the slickness, he leaned back against his pillows and brought the lubricated fingers to his entrance. Kylen crawled back onto the bed, sitting back on his knees and biting his lip in anticipation. Tunon looked up at him once more before pressing his first finger inside. He hissed at the intrusion, but did not stop. Kylen watched as Tunon slowly opened himself up, obviously practiced at it. He would bet that while the Archon of Justice didn’t get much action, he definitely got a lot of his hand.
While Tunon moaned at the thrust of three of his fingers, Kylen grew impatient. He grabbed Tunon’s wrist and removed him from himself, then took hold of the man’s legs and pulled him down the bed, closer to him. Tunon’s breathing was labored, his nervousness hanging in the air between them. Kylen lifted the Archon’s legs, pushing them back, and tapped his cock against the slicked entrance. Tunon bit his lip, reaching his arms up and grabbing the pillows in anticipation.
Kylen looked up and smirked. “I did say I wanted you to beg…” He pressed the head gently against the warm hole before him, earning a small yelp, but he did not thrust in. He watched as Tunon’s chest rose and fell with labored breath.
“Gods, Master Kylen, Archon, please,” his voice was shaking. “I...I need…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. He’d never been one for blunt dirty talk.
“And I need you to be clear with your wants, Adjudicator,” Kylen teased. “We must have open communication if we are to rule with an iron fist.”
Damn his cocky nature, Tunon thought. He’d surely be the death of him. The Archon was smart enough to know to play on Kylen’s ego, to stroke Kylen’s massive god complex. He sighed heavily, looking anywhere but into Kylen’s eyes. “Please, Master. I want you to fuck me. I need you inside me. Let me swear fealty to you, let me prove my loyalty to you. Let me serve you in the ways you demand.”
Kylen growled hungrily and wasted no more time in giving Tunon what he asked for. He thrust into the man’s entrance, the oil opening him up easily. Tunon cursed, his head falling back against the bed as he felt his Master bottom out. Kylen was much thicker than his fingers, stretching him wide and filling him up oh so sweetly. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so full. Kylen leaned forward and bit Tunon’s ear harshly before beginning a merciless pace, thrusting in and out of the man underneath him with vigor. Tunon could not hold back his cries, grasping the pillows so roughly he thought they may rip. The dark room was filled with delectable moans and pleas, Kylen’s hips slapping roughly against Tunon’s body. The former Fatebinder’s cock touched every spot inside the Archon, pressing into his prostate and sending electricity through Tunon’s nerves with every thrust.
“This is exactly what I wanted,” Kylen groaned into Tunon’s ear. “You crying and moaning under me. Can you imagine how long I’ve thought of this?” Kylen’s voice sounded almost far away with how lost in pleasure Tunon was. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe. All of his focus was centered on keeping himself from coming before he was permitted. Though Kylen continued, “You feel so fucking good, Tunon. Warm and tight. Do you like the feeling of my cock inside you? You like being my own personal fuck toy? You can be my Adjudicator, and my whore. How does that sound?” And oh, oh yes, it sounded spectacular, it sounded wonderful. Yes, anything, anything to please Kylen. Tunon muttered obscenities, begging mindlessly to be allowed to come, asking Kylen to go faster.
Oh, how easily the Archon of Justice unraveled, Kylen thought. He had barely had to do anything. He could almost feel himself overdosing on the swell of power and dominance he felt flowing through him. This would be a regular meeting, he decided. Tunon would swear fealty often, and loudly.
When Kylen could hold it no longer, he whispered his permissions to Tunon, and Tunon almost cried with the relief he felt as he came, hard enough that he almost saw stars. His body shook, riding through the most intense orgasm he’d had in a long time. He felt overstimulated as Kylen thrust in and came with him, filling his insides. Were Tunon in his right mind, he would be worried about sexborne diseases. But that was a worry for later. As the two came down from their orgasms, Kylen pulled himself out of Tunon’s hole, bringing cum and oil out with him. He laid himself down next to his Archon, smiling and satisfied. He turned to Tunon, who was gasping and panting, and his smile turned more mischievous.
“Let’s do it against the window next.”