Aymeric glanced between Estine's face and the much more eye-level head in his wake. He impulsively placed a hand on Estinien's waist, squeezing firmly. He lowered the bottle from his mouth as blood rushed to his cheeks and groin. His face almost drifted closer until his lips almost touched the glans. He glanced up before he pressed him lips to the underside in a very sweet kiss.

Aymeric's own thoughts raced. This was very gutsy, even for him. Though there was something about the day; so much mirth and anger and his true sense of his mortality crashed down around him. He figured that if there were things he wanted, he may as well make the effort. How easily could he die tomorrow?

He gasped against Estinien's cock before he gave it another warm kiss.