Now the ashes of tomorrow sing your sad song
The sharp grunt that tears from Remi’s throat is half-surprise, half-desire, his breath catching as Ronin presses down between his wings and folds him into that perfect curve. He obeys without thought, every muscle yielding even as it tenses to meet the punishing rhythm behind him. His knees skid slightly against the stone as they’re forced wider apart, the bite of the ground beneath them only heightening the exquisite intensity of every thrust.
Gods, he’s never felt so taken, so utterly claimed. His wings bow forward in surrender, flared and trembling, his fingers curling into the stone until flakes break free beneath his grip. The roughness, the weight of Ronin behind him, the heat and the sound of it, all of it blurs into a singular, overwhelming sensation. "Gods, make me cum—" he gasps, reaching between his legs with a shaking hand to grasp himself, pleasure slamming into him like a tidal wave. It’s all too much: the angle, the force, the way Ronin knows his body like a song he wrote in another life. "Ronin—fuck—"
His climax crashes into him with a violent sweetness, breath shattering in his chest as the world narrows to white heat and nothing else. His moan echoes out, raw and unrestrained, his body shivering with each wave of release, helpless against it, undone by the man who’s never needed to ask for his surrender but who could take it from him any time of his choosing.
Gods, he’s never felt so taken, so utterly claimed. His wings bow forward in surrender, flared and trembling, his fingers curling into the stone until flakes break free beneath his grip. The roughness, the weight of Ronin behind him, the heat and the sound of it, all of it blurs into a singular, overwhelming sensation. "Gods, make me cum—" he gasps, reaching between his legs with a shaking hand to grasp himself, pleasure slamming into him like a tidal wave. It’s all too much: the angle, the force, the way Ronin knows his body like a song he wrote in another life. "Ronin—fuck—"
His climax crashes into him with a violent sweetness, breath shattering in his chest as the world narrows to white heat and nothing else. His moan echoes out, raw and unrestrained, his body shivering with each wave of release, helpless against it, undone by the man who’s never needed to ask for his surrender but who could take it from him any time of his choosing.
the bastion
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
