That observation that there was hardly enough clothing upon his companion to see the board filled was met with but a warm chuckle upon Dorian's lips. That teasing tone mirrored within the man's voice was enough to prompt a soft sound of laughter from Sebastian in return. "Touche." He commented simply, all too aware of that challenge that now existed between them. It was, in truth, only those more games of the more sensual nature that managed to draw out that competitive side to the pair, and even so it was altogether fleeting, often, drowned in that wake of adoration and sexual needs. He was game enough, however, instead simply patiently watching as Dorian drew that first tile from the bag, that first number was entirely determined to work against him, his board gaining but one piece where as his lover's gained three. That grin settled upon the monarch's lips was enough to coax yet another distinctly British word from his lips, entirely unaware he had spoken it at all until the fae King saw the need to comment on it. He glanced upward at the man across from him, a soft huff left his lips and yet, truly, he had little to say in response. Dorian wasn't entirely wrong per say. After all, their accent and slang changed based off location within that country - even he had once stared mystified when he'd visited Glasglow for the first time.

Nevertheless, the man reached into the bag, pulling the next number from it, one that was sorely disappointing for the both of them. The rest of the evening hardly progressed in a dissimilar fashion, those numbers fell across his board in a sporadic fashion, the game itself wholly uneventful were it not for the pair's utter determination on who would be the first to form a column or row and, moment's after, claim their first article of clothing. Still - it was perhaps that red number he was most inquisitive of all. The notion of what special surprises might be drawn from that board certainly coaxed him to desire that number most of all. He was, therefore, entirely delighted when, finally the number he'd drawn from his bag was that mysterious red one that had so toyed with him for most of the game, the rest of his board somehow paling in comparison to the mystery of what must surely lie beneath that numbered tile. He glanced over the words upon the tile and yet he understood but half of them, instead offering it to his companion with a glimpse of curiosity upon his features for what fate might have held. His eyebrows rose ever so slightly at that snort that left the fae King's nose, those words of a 'treat' certainly equally as thought provoking as the man suddenly rose.

It was decidedly normal, the way in which Sebastian's gaze so followed the King as he moved around that room. Regardless of where they were, there was a strange territorial sense within him that saw the man remain wholly aware of his lover in every fashion. The moment Dorian stepped into the same room as him, he so often held the entirety of Sebastian's gaze - tonight was certainly no different. What had caught him off guard, however, was the golden tray nestled within the corner of the room, one in which the vampire was surprised to note had previously missed his observations. Usually, he was vastly more acute then he seemed to be tonight. He watched as his lover placed the tray down beside them before taking up his position again across from him. His nose twitched ever so slightly as that scent of chocolate filled the bedroom. How had he not noticed this prior to now? Sebastian sat up ever so slightly at the presence of that rich, velvety scent, that smell overwhelming his senses enough that the blood within that liquid was entirely unnoticed. At least, not at first.

"Sanguinaccio dolce?" He inquired softly, the vampire hardly missing those bits of the translation that so stuck out at him. Though he had never heard the word Sanguinaccio - he knew well what sanguine translated to - blood. His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as he watched Dorian stick his finger in the substance in a decidedly unroyal fashion. Sebastian gaze remained entirely steadfast as he watched his lover simply lick that chocolate pudding from his finger, the act alone somehow stirred a faint desire within him. His nose twitched ever so slightly, at the smell of something far more familiar and yet, even it hardly served to distract him as Dorian drew another glob upon his finger, instead offering it to Sebastian himself. The vampire nodded, parting his lips only to find Dorian's finger gingerly moving across them, leaving chocolate in his wake. His tongue immediately trailed after it, enjoying that taste of sweetness and, indeed, blood that had been distinctly mixed within. How utterly glorious this was! How had he been denied this till now? And yet, even that thought was short lived as the tip of those tender fingers brushed against his canine, that simple action saw him pause, the vampire falling perfectly still so as to not perturb what his lover saw fit to do.

He was hardly surprised as that far more pronounced taste of blood filled his mouth, the man greedily liking every drop he was rewarded with even if the presence of his lover's finger was entirely fleeting. It had been nearly two days since he fed, that hunger certainly present within him and yet, hardly enough to affect his persona beyond that simple craving - like an itch that wouldn't ever leave. That simple bloodied finger had a power of mesmerizing the vampire as Dorian stuck his blood within that pudding, stirring it within that softened substance before, much to the vampire's delight, offering that warm bowl to him. There was not a drop of hesitation within the man as he took it, so eying that substance within with clear want, all the while entirely aware of the simple fact that any sort of utensils were particularly...lacking. In truth, it hardly bothered the man all that much, after all, he had certainly consumed far worse than bloodied chocolate pudding in far more inhumane fashions then using his hands. Still, he glanced at those manicured fingers choosing the finger with the shortest nail before dipping but one forefinger within the bowl and, in turn, immediately shoving that finger in his mouth.

A soft sound of contentment left his lips as he relished that sweet taste, mixed so perfectly with those bits of blood that accompanied its lusciousness. In those moments, little else mattered to the man then the substance within that bowl, Dorian lack of desire to interrupt him was hardly even noted as he so greedily enjoyed that treat he'd so won within this game. It was only once the majority of the substance was gone, and in turn, Sebastian found himself pressing his finger towards the edge to get any sort of remains that the King's voice piped up to announce his victory. A nearly suspicious glimpse crossed his features as the vampire glanced over towards his lover's board, entirely disappointed to see that row and column of neatly placed pieces. A small pout crossed his lips as Sebastian placed the bowl down, reaching towards his socks to pull them from his feet and, haphazardly, toss them within the King's direction. The loss of socks, however, was hardly as concerning as perhaps it should have been and yet, nevertheless, Sebastian watched as Dorian reached into the bag to announce another number - one that completed his very first row.

The Englishman could hardly help that glimpse of smugness that crossed his features inspite of that melodramatic sigh that left the fae King's lips. "Your shirt." That demand fell easily from his lips, his hand outstretched, palm up, to so receive that article of clothing he hand asked for from his lover, watching quite pointedly as Dorian worked to remove it. After all, Sebastian had little qualms with so enjoying that show he was offered. It was only with shirt in hand that Sebastian reached into that bag once again, hoping the next number would be another lucky one. After all, the game was finally becoming more intense now that their boards were filling. He had several rows that just needed one or two to be completed and he was entirely determined to attempt to stay neck and neck with his lover, even if this was but a game of chance.