Mateo
Moaning a quiet note of impatient need at the expert fingers that stroke against his cock at a not enough pace, teasing in all the ways he loves and despises all at once, it's all Mateo can do not to arc and writhe beneath Vesper's ministrations - not that he suspects the other man would complain about it. Lavishing in the feel of the demigod's weight sinking fully onto him, at the way his shadows are replaced by the physical press of his fingers, the colour rises high into Mateo's cheeks, his mind little more than fractals of desire riding the residual high of jewel bright sparks of snapdragon.
Then Vesper finally enters him, the shift of his hips dragging a groan of near relief from the botanist's lips, one he serenades against the other man's lips as they crash against his own. Stretched beneath him, his legs hooked around his waist and his wrists pinned so casually it feels almost natural, Mateo's thoughts burn hard and deep with the sudden need for more. Scarlet fire curls around his every imagined whim, seeing himself flipped onto his front and fucked relentlessly into the bed, or pinned against the wall just like this, or with Vesper's hand clapped against his mouth to keep his moans caged and muffled.
Mateo's mind is a hungry whirl of possibility, of wanting this - and then more than this, and then this again but different - and he has every intention of sampling as much of what his imagination provides before the night is through.
Then Vesper finally enters him, the shift of his hips dragging a groan of near relief from the botanist's lips, one he serenades against the other man's lips as they crash against his own. Stretched beneath him, his legs hooked around his waist and his wrists pinned so casually it feels almost natural, Mateo's thoughts burn hard and deep with the sudden need for more. Scarlet fire curls around his every imagined whim, seeing himself flipped onto his front and fucked relentlessly into the bed, or pinned against the wall just like this, or with Vesper's hand clapped against his mouth to keep his moans caged and muffled.
Mateo's mind is a hungry whirl of possibility, of wanting this - and then more than this, and then this again but different - and he has every intention of sampling as much of what his imagination provides before the night is through.
if anything could fall at all, it's the world that falls away from me
