Jera felt Ursalo's hands slide down, felt them dig in and squeeze, and he arched into the attention greedily; he'd been missing that grip all day, though the slight soreness had him recalling with delight the first time those fingers had appeared.<br/><br/>The firelight changed Ursalo's face, made it almost ethereal as the shadows flickered, and there was a tight, curling warmth between Jera's legs as Ursalo spoke-- the images his words painted, the tone in his voice, the insistent touch of his hands, sent shivers through to every nerve.<br/><br/>He laughed quietly and helped Ursalo undress him; clearly neither could endure much more waiting.  The jacket came off easy, slipped from his shoulders and left in the dirt, before Jera started on the next article of clothing in the way.  "They absolutely would, but...  I'm not good at sharing.  Any marks are mine to enjoy, and I'll have worked hard for them."<br/><br/>More of his grey skin appeared, those little speckles spattered across the wide expanse of his chest, and his shirt was neglected with his jacket.  His pants were starting to feel tight, and Jera pressed his hips into Ursalo's to let the demon feel the growing bulge.<br/><br/>"I worked hard last night...  Reward me for it, hm?"  Not quite pleading, more teasing, with another wide smile and more kisses peppered against the long line of Ursalo's lovely neck.