Krem gasped, a heady breath to match the rush of heat in his body, arousal and surprise as Gannicus bullied at him. This was no longer the hurried encounter in the club or even the roughness on top of his table their first evening together. This was something else, something encroaching toward a brutality that Krem would have only known in Thedas against his wishes.

But he wanted this. So badly it ached in his chest. He groaned when Gannicus shoved into him, the second time in such a short amount of time and he was still slick and wet from their tumble with the couple. Gannicus's hands were heavy on his skin, hot; his knees demanded space of him, and he conceded it.

"Yes," he breathed. Want and consent and understanding that he had asked for all this. To be used. This was what he wanted.