"Qanar-dar shall make up for his deficiencies, then." The overly dramatic snarl is mostly playful. That stinging in his nose made it hard not to react to everything more passionately than appropriate.

It's honestly kinda hot. "You're all words," he teases, wrapping and locking his legs around Qanar-dar's waist. "I want to see some action."

“But moments ago you were looking at Khajiit in horror at the thought.” He shifts forward until cock kisses hole again, and then presses just a little harder, testing whether his spell has properly taken. “You really have no sense of self-preservation.”

"Moments ago Khajiit hadn't cast that spell. Now he did. Which is not to say that I do have a sense of self-preservation, of course."

Rather than respond, he growls and bucks his hips. "Ahhhh, fuck!" he groans under his breath, eyes scrunched shut as the sensitive spines send pins of pleasure shooting toward his navel.

"Ah, fuck—" he echoes, because they hurt.

And he's used to it.

Gods, this feels good.

"They're not—usually that stiff until after Khajiit has been inside a while," he mutters. It doesn't stop him from thrusting, though, without asking first if Ruby is ready for that.

Nope, he does not need to ask, Ruby is so ready, godsdamn. "I'm used to it. Keep, ah, keep going—"

Qanar-dar purrs affirmatively. His face relaxes and but for the steady, staccato thrusts, one could confuse it for meditation. Eyes still shut, he flutters one hand exploratively over Ruby’s chest, pouncing on the nipple as he passes it.

"Fuck," he repeats, pulling Qanar-dar's hips closer in with his legs. His mind becomes distantly aware of the fact that a couple of people are walking into the baths and having some kind of reaction to what they're doing. He is very, very glad to give them a show.

Qanar-dar opens one eye to glance in the direction of those entering, and the briefest thought of propriety flits through his head before he shrugs, sighs, and returns to his work. They were here first, after all. An electric bristle arcs up his back as he considers that they are watching, and his steady, nonchalant thrusts turn erratic.

"Perhaps Khajiit isn't the only one who smelled a mate," he murmurs with a grin.