Uldren growled and shuddered against Mac when the man tugged on his hair, fingers digging into the man's hips hard enough to leave bruises, if Mac had been able to bruise. He moaned loudly as the Guardian teased his lips with that warm tongue, barely aware that Mac was actually speaking to him, let alone that it was important. He snapped at the man when Mac let go of him again, snarling out his words without realizing it would probably terrify the poor elf.

"Mac! When we're not fucking freezing, your ass is gonna be so damn ruined! You're gonna be chained for a week and I swear to god I'm gonna see if taking a chunk of flesh out of you heals up without a damn scar. I'll use you so fucking much you'll be weeks recovering!"

Ilormael jumped when the Prince growled and then started snarling at Mac, but he was actually too scared to try and run. That and he was so hard he wasn't sure he could run. He'd never been so aroused before, and even though the Prince was scary as hell, Mac wasn't. He bit his lip as as they spoke to each other in their own language, eyes flitting from one to the other, though mostly he watched the Prince. He was the really dangerous one. But then Mac touched his ears.

The elf shivered and moaned, eyes closing against his will as he rocked on the man's lap, clinging to Mac as those hands teased his ears. Ilormael didn't even notice the pulling at his clothes at first, but eventually it penetrated. It was a real effort to open his eyes and give Mac a hazy, pleading look. He didn't know what to ask for, or how to say what he wanted, because he didn't really know what he wanted.

"I . . . please? Touch . . . my ears? Please?"