05.Aug.18, 09:08 AM
Laughter seemed to be the response of the moment when it came to the current conversation with Mylorah. N’mor wondered idly if he was just in a good mood, or if the girl was truly more entertaining than he had given her credit to being previously. He decided it was probably a combination; his good mood was allowing him to take note of the fact that the girl wasn’t as droll as he had written her off to be. Fair, really; she was a sibling of T’ryn’s and his friend was hardly a bore. Or R’nd. That man was highly entertaining, though usually because N’mor was pressing his buttons.
But really, wasn’t that what he was doing now with Mylorah. He smirked. “You’re a lot like your father,” he said mildly, shaking his head but refusing to explain. She probably thought he was saying such a comment in reference to her arguing out his top or bottoming; that was kind of a gross thought, but that would be her issue!
Eyebrows arched up when she said he liked the table, and a crooked smirk tilted his lips. “Really? A table?” Bemused, N’mor turned his gaze down to look at the table top, and then back up at Mylorah. “I mean, sure, if you like being laid out like a feast?” He lifted his eyebrows at her again, wondering if that comment would make her blush. He hoped so, he’d like to make her squirm at least a little as much as she’d been trying to make him do so.
N’mor turned his head slowly to look at the couch for a few moments, before tilting his head slightly and peering at Mylorah out of the corner of his eyes. His lips twitched, before he tossed her a treat for such good work. “Probably wouldn’t recommend sitting on it,” he said innocently.
But really, wasn’t that what he was doing now with Mylorah. He smirked. “You’re a lot like your father,” he said mildly, shaking his head but refusing to explain. She probably thought he was saying such a comment in reference to her arguing out his top or bottoming; that was kind of a gross thought, but that would be her issue!
Eyebrows arched up when she said he liked the table, and a crooked smirk tilted his lips. “Really? A table?” Bemused, N’mor turned his gaze down to look at the table top, and then back up at Mylorah. “I mean, sure, if you like being laid out like a feast?” He lifted his eyebrows at her again, wondering if that comment would make her blush. He hoped so, he’d like to make her squirm at least a little as much as she’d been trying to make him do so.
N’mor turned his head slowly to look at the couch for a few moments, before tilting his head slightly and peering at Mylorah out of the corner of his eyes. His lips twitched, before he tossed her a treat for such good work. “Probably wouldn’t recommend sitting on it,” he said innocently.