and on to the glory at my right hand
He is - he is Remi's, in this moment and all others, and were Ronin capable of anything close to coherent thought, he'd have told him as much. Alas, the only thing he can give the Lullaby for his troubles are wordless articulations of bliss, made all the more ragged as Remi's fingers pulse and squeeze against his cock. "Gods," he hisses, having to shift the leg hooked over the other man's shoulder to accommodate his wings, the movement causing a further surge of pleasure that all but tips him over the edge.
His own wings are pinned against the ground, and the pain that radiates out from his back only adds to this somehow. Stuttering a breath against Remi's lips is the only warning Ronin is capable of giving, and he cums with the world howling blank and white behind his eyes, with copper on his tongue and every nerve singing under Remi's touch. His free hand tightens hard in the other man's hair, tugging his head back as if to simultaneously hold him at bay and also pin him where he is.
His own wings are pinned against the ground, and the pain that radiates out from his back only adds to this somehow. Stuttering a breath against Remi's lips is the only warning Ronin is capable of giving, and he cums with the world howling blank and white behind his eyes, with copper on his tongue and every nerve singing under Remi's touch. His free hand tightens hard in the other man's hair, tugging his head back as if to simultaneously hold him at bay and also pin him where he is.
ronin
