FF + Debonair Ezreal
Without the gauntlet, Ezreal’s arms looked much slimmer. So fragile, so easy to break. Talon tugged the silk tie tight around the blond’s slender wrists and was rewarded with a moan that made arousal sear through, electric and sharp as Ezreal’s eyes. The pretty flush that painted itself over Ezreal’s cheeks and throat, the hungry, brilliant eyes, the soft lips that curved in that signature smirk- all of it was irresistible and Talon was not used to denying himself.
He traced his fingers along the exposed line of pale skin where the silk shirt fell open to bare just a teasing sliver of Ezreal’s chest, feeling how smooth the skin was, how free of the scars that all Noxians wore.
"Are you going to do anything more than stare at me?" Ezreal demanded, greedy for more than those teasingly light touches. His skin itched with the want to be touched; Talon had opened his waistcoat and shirt but not taken them off, and his arms were still trapped within his white jacket. The surety of the assassin’s hands, the deliberate slowness, was maddening. How was Talon going to touch him when Ezreal was still fully dressed?
"Patience," Talon crooned, his own gaze flickering away from the temptation of Ezreal’s slim, bare throat so he could meet Ezreal’s eyes instead. He smiled and there was no mercy in the curve of his red lips. "We’ve got all night."
Talon was unaware of the growing flush on his cheeks as he read, but he did have to pause to pull off his scarf. Suddenly, the room was too hot.