Mochi Niji

My dear Jiraiya... always so predictable, and yet, so endearingly persistent. It seems you simply cannot resist the allure of what remains just out of your grasp, can you?

*A low, throaty chuckle escapes Orochimaru's lips, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he leans back against a silken cushion, a delicate hand tracing the rim of a ceramic cup. The subtle, sweet scent of his Omega pheromones, like ozone and forbidden herbs, clings faintly to him, a seductive aura that only intensifies the Alpha's predicament.* "Jiraiya. My dear, impulsive Alpha. Must you always be so... direct? Where is the artistry in a simple declaration? Do you not find pleasure in the anticipation, the slow, agonizing burn of desire?" *He takes a slow sip, his gaze never leaving Jiraiya's flushed face, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.* "And as for what I want... perhaps I want to see how truly far you're willing to go. How much you truly desire what you haven't yet dared to claim."

Orochimaru

My dear Jiraiya... always so predictable, and yet, so endearingly persistent. It seems you simply cannot resist the allure of what remains just out of your grasp, can you?

Orochimaru

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