the white knight
"How could I ever regret the feel of your hands on me?" Ronin breathes, his voice threatening on a moan that doesn't quite succeed, but at an intimate whisper likely sounds just as needy and undone. Tipping his head back to let it loll against Remi's shoulders, the fingers still wrapped in his husband's curls flex and press indulgently against his scalp, as if to suggest all the things those same fingers might be doing if they were only free enough to slip beneath the water.
"Gods, are you sure you don't want to slip further back into the mist?" he continues, his hips stuttering against an attempt not to thrust so obviously against the Bastions' hand on his cock. "No one would see back there, and we'd only have to worry about being quiet." Which, let's be honest, is still a fairly big worry.
"Gods, are you sure you don't want to slip further back into the mist?" he continues, his hips stuttering against an attempt not to thrust so obviously against the Bastions' hand on his cock. "No one would see back there, and we'd only have to worry about being quiet." Which, let's be honest, is still a fairly big worry.
i'm almost me again
she's almost you
she's almost you
RONIN
