[ Fjord would agree if he didn't have his eyes screwed shut and claws digging into Molly's ass and thighs, a guttural noise roughly exiting his throat as he tips his head back and arches into Molly. Each gasp echoes the potion flooding him with its effect and when he gives the tiefling a sudden shove to roll them around, crowding him into the blankets, it's with a snarl that bares his tusks.
He opens his eyes — both red now with the orcish lust half-orcs rarely experience except in battle — and looks down at Molly through a haze. Fjord brings a trembling hand up to gently caress Molly's cheek, his heaving chest panting as he catches his breath while intoxicated, and the snarl softens to a rumble. ]
I'd do ... anything ... for you. You're mine. My mate. [ And then, gruffly, ] Open your legs.
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He opens his eyes — both red now with the orcish lust half-orcs rarely experience except in battle — and looks down at Molly through a haze. Fjord brings a trembling hand up to gently caress Molly's cheek, his heaving chest panting as he catches his breath while intoxicated, and the snarl softens to a rumble. ]
I'd do ... anything ... for you. You're mine. My mate. [ And then, gruffly, ] Open your legs.