Rose doesn't notice she's holding her breath until the moments he pulls soft gasps and muffled moans from her. She can't help but shiver at the delicate attention along her thighs. The pinch makes her squeak in delight.
"I do believe it is, Mr. Gray," she teases. Rose's voice is soft, like it's just the two of them stealing a moment to enjoy themselves. Her eyes dance over his features. She takes his hand and leads him back to the bed with a coy come hither look.
When she gets there, she realizes she isn't certain how she's meant to do this. She sits on the edge of the bed, her knees slightly parted so he'll have to at least spread them himself. She hopes he'll take some lead as to if he's looking to kneel on the floor or if he wants her to get further up on the bed.
"There's no need for formality here. Call me Dorian."
Fortunately, Dorian's the sort to take charge. He kneels down on the floor so that his face is at crotch level. As he talks, he lightly moves his hands in between Rose's thighs, gently spreading her legs apart.
"Until either of you say otherwise, I'm at your command. Tell me what to do and I'll do it. After all, a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves to be treated like royalty for one night."
He leans in to place a small, gentle kiss on Rose's inner thigh before he turns his attention (and his mouth) to her cunt, slipping his tongue between her legs as he starts to get to work.
At his insistence of informality, she giggles with hushed tones. "Don't forget, I'm a lady." Obviously she should call him Mr. Gray.
Rose isn't about to complain about the choice of activity. It's rare enough in her line of work, and Dorian is clearly skilled. His enthusiasm is a boon, and it doesn't take long for her professional display of pleasure to become tinted with genuine enjoyment.
Her breaths shallow and catch on those rare moments he finds just the right spot. Rose's fingers gradually twist the sheets tighter, but eventually, that just isn't enough. She tangles them in his hair so she can better guide him, any attempt at words rapidly sticking in her throat. Her head falls back as she tries keep breathing while she focuses on him and that delicious sensation.
The flick and snap of his lighter serves as a reminder of Sweeney's presence. Tossing back the rest of his glass, he rises and crosses to the side of the bed.
It distracts Rose for a moment, and her eyes flit to him in silent question of 'do you want to join?'. Sweeney just gives a faint shake of his head and glances down to Dorian and back.
You go right ahead and enjoy yourself.
At this distance, it's readily apparent that just because Sweeney isn't exposed doesn't mean he's not affected. The tightness of his trousers is blatant as he strains against their buttons.
Every time he hits a good spot, Dorian returns to that, letting Rose indulge in the sensation of pleasure for a few moments before he moves on. Sure, he wants Sweeney to get something out of this. But at the same time, why not let Rose enjoy herself?
He lets himself be guided, though he does make it so Rose has to tug on his hair a few times—though that's less of Dorian being a shit and more of Dorian enjoying a bit of pain. Each time he gets his hair tugged, he goes right back to that sweet spot, rewarding Rose with so much attention paid to her cunt. Hopefully she gets the message: push me around and I'll give you everything you want.
He has to come up for air for a moment, pulling back so he can up at Rose and wet his lips. "You know, I don't think you're wet enough," he teases. "I should work on that."
As far as Dorian's concerned, he wants to see if he can give this girl at least two orgasms. So he grins before leaning in to plant a few kisses on the inside of Rose's thigh—let's give her a different sensation for a few moments before he goes right back to eating pussy.
It doesn't take long for Rose to figure out that Dorian likes direction. That's even better. She nudges and wiggles, trying to help him as much as she can without falling off the bed.
By the time he's back at it, her leg wraps around his back, trying to pull him to her as her hips start to eagerly rock against his mouth. Just a little--
Even with it building warmth in her belly, the climax still catches her off-guard, and she instinctively tries to catch it. It makes her cry turn into a whimper as she tries to hum her way through it. It melts into a muffled giggle. Her toes curl and flex as she quivers beneath his mouth, her hands unwilling to unclench. She's not pushing him on, just holding him in place while the whole of her vibrates.
Sweeney lets her have at least half a minute to come down before he softly strokes a line along her upper arm with the back of two fingers.
"Come on, luv," he whispers, strangely gentle. "Yer turn."
Rose is still trying to even her breathing, but she manages to begin uncurling, releasing Dorian as she tries to get her bearings and return the favor.
It's truly odd how a man can radiate smugness as he continues to push a woman towards orgasm. Because Dorian is annoyingly smug about the whole thing. As she holds him in place, he continues to work, only pulling away when he hears Sweeney's voice.
Oddly, Dorian can't help but wonder if this whole thing was planned out equally for Rose as for Sweeney. That's the gentlest and kindest he's ever heard the man.
His smugness starts to vanish as he extricates himself from between Rose's legs. Dorian gives her a reassuring smile as he continues, "Put me wherever you want me to be."
As she starts to push up on her elbows, Sweeney whispers to Rose, "Standin's fine."
Rose swallows again, trying to alleviate her parched throat, left dry by gasping. She hopes it won't be an issue. It's going to be tricky enough to perform at her best in the wake of all that. She slides off the bed and onto her knees, nudging Dorian back enough to give her space.
She indulges herself for a moment to see what she's working with and how best to approach things, but mostly that's a guise to further recover. Once she's done, Rose looks up to Dorian and carefully takes as much of him into her mouth as she's able, skipping the preshow. She knows Sweeney's wants enough to understand where this is meant to be going. Her hands lift to help, but the focus is on her mouth, and him inside it.
Sweeney takes a step to stand inline with their sides, so he can keep a watchful eye on things while he smokes. He's far enough away that they can put him out of mind some if they want to, but it'd take a concerted effort.
"Just let her know when yer ready," he tells Dorian with a small gesture of his cigarette. Let her know before you finish so you can fuck her. His tone is less gentle, but only just. It's polite and still a bit low. This is meant to be something that strengthens their relationship, not an excuse to treat Dorian like shit. Not that he'd probably mind.
Dorian gets to his feet, looking over Rose and Sweeney as he does. He still hasn't entirely figured out what their whole deal is. But it's obvious based on the way that Sweeney acts towards her that there's something close to a deal.
And then Rose takes him in her mouth and Dorian very quickly decides that any attempts to find out what the hell sort of relationship these two have can easily wait. He lets out a murmur of pleasure when he feels her tongue on him that quickly turns to a short little laugh when he hears what Sweeney says.
"I haven't forgotten the final part of the night. I suck her cunt, she sucks my cock, I fuck her hard. I'll make sure not to quit too early."
But he won't hide the fact that he's obviously enjoying this.
Sweeney offers a faint tip of his head in appreciation of Dorian's confirmation. It makes things easier. He pulls another drag and taps his ash.
Rose wants Dorian to delight in her affections as much as she had in his. Well...maybe not quite as much given the outstanding order of business. But still, she wants him to get a sampling of her range of skills, and her oral work is what she's known for. She takes to it with devoted eagerness, wanting to show him the depth of her appreciation of how attentive he was to her satisfaction.
After the first minute or so, Dorian feels strong in his assessment that Sweeney picked a good one. Rose knows what she's doing and he loves it. Dorian lets out a murmur of pleasure as he feels her mouth on his prick, just indulging in the moment.
"You're doing amazing," he reassures her, before that turns into a small little groan. "Keep it up."
She smiles around him for a moment, her eyes flitting up as she draws back to tease. He definitely makes the work fun. There's a game in flow of things; her tongue working soft patterns one moment only to pull hungrily the next. Her fingers press into the flesh of his hips as she swallows him, only to nuzzle against his abdomen when there's no more to take.
Sweeney keeps a watchful eye, but is mindful to not draw too much attention if he can help it. It's not the point, after all. He's content to casually smoke, his other hand tucked in his trouser pocket.
Dorian can feel himself stiffen. He can feel his prick grow stiff and hungry with lust and he knows full well that if they were to linger like this, if they were to have this continue, he'd be coming in her mouth sooner rather than later.
"I'm ready," he says, gently trying to move away from Rose. He is very hard, sweaty with lust, and giving her a dopey little smile. "On the bed," he gestures, not really wanting to talk right now. He's throbbing with pleasure and wants to go ahead and get himself towards release.
Rose grins up with pride, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. She sits back and puts her hands on the edge of the bed to push herself up onto it, a reverse of the motion that had brought her to her knees.
A coy smirk invites him to join her, and her exaggerated squirm backwards rocks her fully onto the side of each hip in turn. It's an offer and inquiry; after all, Sweeney hadn't been forthcoming about a particular position, just the intensity. Rose keeps her eyes locked on Dorian's as she bites her lip. Each twist promises he can have her however he wants; she'll delight in how he takes her.
Dorian matches her coy smirk with an enthusiastic one of this one. He's bursting at the seams, he just desperately wants to release all this. So when Rose climbs back on the bed, Dorian happily climbs in on top of her. He adjusts his prick, sliding it in her with a grin.
"You're still wet from earlier," he teases. But once he's in there, Dorian starts thrusting, moving back and forth, absolutely enjoying himself as he starts to fuck Rose, enjoying the feeling of his cock in her cunt.
She gasps at the eagerness of his want, but it's immediately obvious that she is exceptionally appreciative.
"How--how could I not be? All that--that effort--" Rose whispers on shallow breaths. She wraps her arms around his neck, trying to anchor herself to push against his thrusts. He pulls soft moans and muffled cries from her as she shoves her head back into the pillow.
"Please," she whimpers. "Please--don't stop."
Sweeney rubs his tongue over his teeth beneath his lip, trying to loosen the tension in his jaw. There's fuckall he can be doing to fix it elsewhere in his body. Not yet, anyways.
"I won't," Dorian breathlessly laughs, as he continues fucking Rose. "I won't."
He moves his hands to her side, gripping the sheets with so much intensity that he's fit to rip them as he continues fucking, moving in and out, thrusting inside Rose. He hopes that Sweeney's watching. He can't tell. He's too focused on the moment, on this beautiful creature beneath him.
His actions are something a bit closer to animal magnetism than anything gentle. He wants to fuck her and he wants to fuck her as hard as possible. He knows that he's going to spend soon and he can't help but rasp, "Oh darling, I'm almost there."
Rose barely cares. Already sensitive from his last victory, it doesn't take much to get her ready to crest again. And he's giving so much more.
By the time he's warning her, Rose's fingers are tangled in his hair, and she yanks back as she clenches hard around him, every muscle taut in that moment. She desperately fights to suck in the air in, but only manages a strangled cry.
Sweeney is most certainly watching. Watching and wanting and barely blinking. His cigarette lingers at his side, smoldering. Fuck. This prick best finish soon. He's not really good at waiting.
Sweeney doesn't have to wait much longer. Dorian lets out one last groan of pleasure as he spends himself inside of Rose, releasing himself with a very shameless moan.
He looks down at her with a tired smile before Dorian removes himself from inside her and, not at all caring that he's a sticky, sweaty, naked mess, flops down on the bed next to Rose.
"You weren't so bad yourself, Mr. Gray," she offers with a tired grin, panting happily. Rose turns her head a touch more, dropping her voice to a faint whisper. "Anytime." Her smile grows, and she looks back to the ceiling.
Sweeney's shoulders coil as the pair start to recover. His tongue rubs roughly against the roof of his mouth, and he remembers his cigarette, buying them some time with a long drag.
Not that much time.
His eyes are fixed hard on Rose, watching her ample bosom heave. Sweeney remains rooted where he is. The hunger is obvious in his voice, but it comes clear enough.
"Be back here in fifteen." Another rub of his tongue.
Dorian moves his head enough so that he can look at Sweeney. Initially he looks like he's about to complain (leave? Really?). But then he sees the man looking right at Rose's breasts and hears that hunger in his voice and Dorian puts two and two together.
While Sweeney might be fine with voyeurism, Dorian idly wonders if he's not fine with others watching him.
"Let me at least get my trousers on first," Dorian sighs as he pushes himself up off of the bed. "I'm not going to give everybody out there a free show. That's bad for business."
Even though he's letting himself complain, to his credit, Dorian is looking for his trousers and putting them on as he does so.
"An' clean up." As if that was a question for some reason. He's just trying to keep his focus. He's questioning his plan as much as he can with what little blood is in his brain at the moment. His free hand clenches and releases, looking for focus enough to wait out Dorian's task.
It's not easy.
He forces himself to swallow, stretching his neck to each side. Sweeney's an animal on a leash, and he's increasingly straining against it.
Dorian slips his trousers on before giving Sweeney a little nod. "See you in fifteen."
Because he can tell that the man's going to throttle him if he dilly-sallies any longer.
As he slips out, he returns to his room. All in all it takes him about ten minutes to get himself cleaned up. And so, for the last five minutes, Dorian leans against the wall outside of the room Sweeney and Rose are in, smoking a cigarette and not-so-subtley trying to eavesdrop through the door.
Sweeney doesn't need the ten. The moment the door clicks shut, his hands are on his trouser buttons and another later his hand is in her hair.
When Dorian's back, he can hear light giggling; a man with his experience can tell it's likely not one offered mid-fuck. Shortly thereafter, there's the sound of the chair being drug a short distance. A couple minutes later, the door opens, and Rose is on her way out. She's got the layers of underthings back on, though the corset isn't properly laced. The bulk of her dress is draped over her arm. She looks no worse for wear than when he left her, save perhaps a bit of extra glisten to her lips. She looks surprised to see Dorian and immediately finds a coy smile for him. "See you later, Mr. Gray," she pokes playfully before starting down the hall.
Shortly thereafter, Sweeney appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame on his forearm. He's halfway through a fresh cigarette. Nothing seems in disarray, except a slight flush to his cheeks. It's easy to guess he didn't waste that skilled mouth either.
His eyes drop to Dorian, and his jaw briefly cocks to the side as he stretches the tension from it.
"Yer early." His tone is dry. It's another slow drag before he steps aside to let Dorian in. Sweeney doesn't shut the door, because on his heels is Thomas.
He's a tall, slender fellow with sandy blond hair, pale eyes, and a reputation for flexibility. Sweeney had had to hire him on recommendation alone, but Rose had seemed confident he'd get the job done. Most importantly, he looks nothing like Godric. Thomas offers Dorian a polite tip of his head.
Sweeney shuts the door behind him and pauses, leaned against the wall while he smokes.
"Presume ya know each other." Thomas gives a tight nod before turning his attention to Dorian. At the very least, they've seen each other around, and really, that's close enough when it comes to that question and johns.
When Rose exits the room, Dorian gives her a grin and a small little wave before leaving.
And then there's Sweeney. "My shirt's still in the room," Dorian points out in response to the question about him being early. And, considering that he's shirtless still, he hasn't bothered to put on a new one. He enters the room but turns around when he sees Thomas enter as well.
Another one? Christ. Sweeney's voyeurism kink really must be something.
"We've met," Dorian says, with a little nod. He takes another drag of his cigarette before continuing, "I assume this round isn't going to be exactly like the previous one, as Thomas here doesn't have Rose's equipment."
"I want ya ta take yer clothes off, then I want ya ta take his clothes off." He's just as blunt with things as the first time around.
"I want ya ta suck his cock, then I want him ta fuck ya. Hard." Sweeney's brow lifts with an air of proposal, even though the terms of their agreement were settled at the bar. He's not going to force the man.
His hand slides into his pocket, producing a small, ornate bottle of oil. He's done his best to get something high quality, though given his ignorance requiring a recommendation, he can't be sure.
He's moved the chair against the wall where he's perpendicular to the bed; similar to how he'd repositioned earlier, but further back. The table with the rum and tumbler are next to it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Lovely Voyeurism
Rose doesn't notice she's holding her breath until the moments he pulls soft gasps and muffled moans from her. She can't help but shiver at the delicate attention along her thighs. The pinch makes her squeak in delight.
"I do believe it is, Mr. Gray," she teases. Rose's voice is soft, like it's just the two of them stealing a moment to enjoy themselves. Her eyes dance over his features. She takes his hand and leads him back to the bed with a coy come hither look.
When she gets there, she realizes she isn't certain how she's meant to do this. She sits on the edge of the bed, her knees slightly parted so he'll have to at least spread them himself. She hopes he'll take some lead as to if he's looking to kneel on the floor or if he wants her to get further up on the bed.
Sweeney kills his glass and refills it.
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Fortunately, Dorian's the sort to take charge. He kneels down on the floor so that his face is at crotch level. As he talks, he lightly moves his hands in between Rose's thighs, gently spreading her legs apart.
"Until either of you say otherwise, I'm at your command. Tell me what to do and I'll do it. After all, a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves to be treated like royalty for one night."
He leans in to place a small, gentle kiss on Rose's inner thigh before he turns his attention (and his mouth) to her cunt, slipping his tongue between her legs as he starts to get to work.
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Rose isn't about to complain about the choice of activity. It's rare enough in her line of work, and Dorian is clearly skilled. His enthusiasm is a boon, and it doesn't take long for her professional display of pleasure to become tinted with genuine enjoyment.
Her breaths shallow and catch on those rare moments he finds just the right spot. Rose's fingers gradually twist the sheets tighter, but eventually, that just isn't enough. She tangles them in his hair so she can better guide him, any attempt at words rapidly sticking in her throat. Her head falls back as she tries keep breathing while she focuses on him and that delicious sensation.
The flick and snap of his lighter serves as a reminder of Sweeney's presence. Tossing back the rest of his glass, he rises and crosses to the side of the bed.
It distracts Rose for a moment, and her eyes flit to him in silent question of 'do you want to join?'. Sweeney just gives a faint shake of his head and glances down to Dorian and back.
You go right ahead and enjoy yourself.
At this distance, it's readily apparent that just because Sweeney isn't exposed doesn't mean he's not affected. The tightness of his trousers is blatant as he strains against their buttons.
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He lets himself be guided, though he does make it so Rose has to tug on his hair a few times—though that's less of Dorian being a shit and more of Dorian enjoying a bit of pain. Each time he gets his hair tugged, he goes right back to that sweet spot, rewarding Rose with so much attention paid to her cunt. Hopefully she gets the message: push me around and I'll give you everything you want.
He has to come up for air for a moment, pulling back so he can up at Rose and wet his lips. "You know, I don't think you're wet enough," he teases. "I should work on that."
As far as Dorian's concerned, he wants to see if he can give this girl at least two orgasms. So he grins before leaning in to plant a few kisses on the inside of Rose's thigh—let's give her a different sensation for a few moments before he goes right back to eating pussy.
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By the time he's back at it, her leg wraps around his back, trying to pull him to her as her hips start to eagerly rock against his mouth. Just a little--
Even with it building warmth in her belly, the climax still catches her off-guard, and she instinctively tries to catch it. It makes her cry turn into a whimper as she tries to hum her way through it. It melts into a muffled giggle. Her toes curl and flex as she quivers beneath his mouth, her hands unwilling to unclench. She's not pushing him on, just holding him in place while the whole of her vibrates.
Sweeney lets her have at least half a minute to come down before he softly strokes a line along her upper arm with the back of two fingers.
"Come on, luv," he whispers, strangely gentle. "Yer turn."
Rose is still trying to even her breathing, but she manages to begin uncurling, releasing Dorian as she tries to get her bearings and return the favor.
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Oddly, Dorian can't help but wonder if this whole thing was planned out equally for Rose as for Sweeney. That's the gentlest and kindest he's ever heard the man.
His smugness starts to vanish as he extricates himself from between Rose's legs. Dorian gives her a reassuring smile as he continues, "Put me wherever you want me to be."
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Rose swallows again, trying to alleviate her parched throat, left dry by gasping. She hopes it won't be an issue. It's going to be tricky enough to perform at her best in the wake of all that. She slides off the bed and onto her knees, nudging Dorian back enough to give her space.
She indulges herself for a moment to see what she's working with and how best to approach things, but mostly that's a guise to further recover. Once she's done, Rose looks up to Dorian and carefully takes as much of him into her mouth as she's able, skipping the preshow. She knows Sweeney's wants enough to understand where this is meant to be going. Her hands lift to help, but the focus is on her mouth, and him inside it.
Sweeney takes a step to stand inline with their sides, so he can keep a watchful eye on things while he smokes. He's far enough away that they can put him out of mind some if they want to, but it'd take a concerted effort.
"Just let her know when yer ready," he tells Dorian with a small gesture of his cigarette. Let her know before you finish so you can fuck her. His tone is less gentle, but only just. It's polite and still a bit low. This is meant to be something that strengthens their relationship, not an excuse to treat Dorian like shit. Not that he'd probably mind.
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And then Rose takes him in her mouth and Dorian very quickly decides that any attempts to find out what the hell sort of relationship these two have can easily wait. He lets out a murmur of pleasure when he feels her tongue on him that quickly turns to a short little laugh when he hears what Sweeney says.
"I haven't forgotten the final part of the night. I suck her cunt, she sucks my cock, I fuck her hard. I'll make sure not to quit too early."
But he won't hide the fact that he's obviously enjoying this.
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Rose wants Dorian to delight in her affections as much as she had in his. Well...maybe not quite as much given the outstanding order of business. But still, she wants him to get a sampling of her range of skills, and her oral work is what she's known for. She takes to it with devoted eagerness, wanting to show him the depth of her appreciation of how attentive he was to her satisfaction.
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"You're doing amazing," he reassures her, before that turns into a small little groan. "Keep it up."
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Sweeney keeps a watchful eye, but is mindful to not draw too much attention if he can help it. It's not the point, after all. He's content to casually smoke, his other hand tucked in his trouser pocket.
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"I'm ready," he says, gently trying to move away from Rose. He is very hard, sweaty with lust, and giving her a dopey little smile. "On the bed," he gestures, not really wanting to talk right now. He's throbbing with pleasure and wants to go ahead and get himself towards release.
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A coy smirk invites him to join her, and her exaggerated squirm backwards rocks her fully onto the side of each hip in turn. It's an offer and inquiry; after all, Sweeney hadn't been forthcoming about a particular position, just the intensity. Rose keeps her eyes locked on Dorian's as she bites her lip. Each twist promises he can have her however he wants; she'll delight in how he takes her.
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"You're still wet from earlier," he teases. But once he's in there, Dorian starts thrusting, moving back and forth, absolutely enjoying himself as he starts to fuck Rose, enjoying the feeling of his cock in her cunt.
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"How--how could I not be? All that--that effort--" Rose whispers on shallow breaths. She wraps her arms around his neck, trying to anchor herself to push against his thrusts. He pulls soft moans and muffled cries from her as she shoves her head back into the pillow.
"Please," she whimpers. "Please--don't stop."
Sweeney rubs his tongue over his teeth beneath his lip, trying to loosen the tension in his jaw. There's fuckall he can be doing to fix it elsewhere in his body. Not yet, anyways.
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He moves his hands to her side, gripping the sheets with so much intensity that he's fit to rip them as he continues fucking, moving in and out, thrusting inside Rose. He hopes that Sweeney's watching. He can't tell. He's too focused on the moment, on this beautiful creature beneath him.
His actions are something a bit closer to animal magnetism than anything gentle. He wants to fuck her and he wants to fuck her as hard as possible. He knows that he's going to spend soon and he can't help but rasp, "Oh darling, I'm almost there."
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By the time he's warning her, Rose's fingers are tangled in his hair, and she yanks back as she clenches hard around him, every muscle taut in that moment. She desperately fights to suck in the air in, but only manages a strangled cry.
Sweeney is most certainly watching. Watching and wanting and barely blinking. His cigarette lingers at his side, smoldering. Fuck. This prick best finish soon. He's not really good at waiting.
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He looks down at her with a tired smile before Dorian removes himself from inside her and, not at all caring that he's a sticky, sweaty, naked mess, flops down on the bed next to Rose.
"You were brilliant," he laughs.
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Sweeney's shoulders coil as the pair start to recover. His tongue rubs roughly against the roof of his mouth, and he remembers his cigarette, buying them some time with a long drag.
Not that much time.
His eyes are fixed hard on Rose, watching her ample bosom heave. Sweeney remains rooted where he is. The hunger is obvious in his voice, but it comes clear enough.
"Be back here in fifteen." Another rub of his tongue.
"Now fuck off."
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While Sweeney might be fine with voyeurism, Dorian idly wonders if he's not fine with others watching him.
"Let me at least get my trousers on first," Dorian sighs as he pushes himself up off of the bed. "I'm not going to give everybody out there a free show. That's bad for business."
Even though he's letting himself complain, to his credit, Dorian is looking for his trousers and putting them on as he does so.
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"An' clean up." As if that was a question for some reason. He's just trying to keep his focus. He's questioning his plan as much as he can with what little blood is in his brain at the moment. His free hand clenches and releases, looking for focus enough to wait out Dorian's task.
It's not easy.
He forces himself to swallow, stretching his neck to each side. Sweeney's an animal on a leash, and he's increasingly straining against it.
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Because he can tell that the man's going to throttle him if he dilly-sallies any longer.
As he slips out, he returns to his room. All in all it takes him about ten minutes to get himself cleaned up. And so, for the last five minutes, Dorian leans against the wall outside of the room Sweeney and Rose are in, smoking a cigarette and not-so-subtley trying to eavesdrop through the door.
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When Dorian's back, he can hear light giggling; a man with his experience can tell it's likely not one offered mid-fuck. Shortly thereafter, there's the sound of the chair being drug a short distance. A couple minutes later, the door opens, and Rose is on her way out. She's got the layers of underthings back on, though the corset isn't properly laced. The bulk of her dress is draped over her arm. She looks no worse for wear than when he left her, save perhaps a bit of extra glisten to her lips. She looks surprised to see Dorian and immediately finds a coy smile for him. "See you later, Mr. Gray," she pokes playfully before starting down the hall.
Shortly thereafter, Sweeney appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame on his forearm. He's halfway through a fresh cigarette. Nothing seems in disarray, except a slight flush to his cheeks. It's easy to guess he didn't waste that skilled mouth either.
His eyes drop to Dorian, and his jaw briefly cocks to the side as he stretches the tension from it.
"Yer early." His tone is dry. It's another slow drag before he steps aside to let Dorian in. Sweeney doesn't shut the door, because on his heels is Thomas.
He's a tall, slender fellow with sandy blond hair, pale eyes, and a reputation for flexibility. Sweeney had had to hire him on recommendation alone, but Rose had seemed confident he'd get the job done. Most importantly, he looks nothing like Godric. Thomas offers Dorian a polite tip of his head.
Sweeney shuts the door behind him and pauses, leaned against the wall while he smokes.
"Presume ya know each other." Thomas gives a tight nod before turning his attention to Dorian. At the very least, they've seen each other around, and really, that's close enough when it comes to that question and johns.
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And then there's Sweeney. "My shirt's still in the room," Dorian points out in response to the question about him being early. And, considering that he's shirtless still, he hasn't bothered to put on a new one. He enters the room but turns around when he sees Thomas enter as well.
Another one? Christ. Sweeney's voyeurism kink really must be something.
"We've met," Dorian says, with a little nod. He takes another drag of his cigarette before continuing, "I assume this round isn't going to be exactly like the previous one, as Thomas here doesn't have Rose's equipment."
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"I want ya ta take yer clothes off, then I want ya ta take his clothes off." He's just as blunt with things as the first time around.
"I want ya ta suck his cock, then I want him ta fuck ya. Hard." Sweeney's brow lifts with an air of proposal, even though the terms of their agreement were settled at the bar. He's not going to force the man.
His hand slides into his pocket, producing a small, ornate bottle of oil. He's done his best to get something high quality, though given his ignorance requiring a recommendation, he can't be sure.
He's moved the chair against the wall where he's perpendicular to the bed; similar to how he'd repositioned earlier, but further back. The table with the rum and tumbler are next to it.
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