Xiang Yu smirked, his lips curling in a way that made Han Xin's heart race. "That information," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "will cost you more."
Han Xin's lips parted slightly, his breath ghosting over Xiang Yu's skin as he leaned in. The scent of him was overwhelming, an intoxicating blend that clouded Han Xin's thoughts and sharpened his senses all at once. Without a word, he pressed his mouth to Xiang Yu's neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
A soft hiss escaped Xiang Yu's lips, his hand instinctively tangling in Han Xin's hair, guiding him closer. Han Xin's tongue traced the line of Xiang Yu's jaw, slow and deliberate, savouring his taste of him. His lips moved downward, sucking and nibbling at the hollow of Xiang Yu's collarbone, leaving faint marks in their wake.
