REMI
Remi grins against Ronin’s shoulder, the curve of it all wicked teeth and aching affection. "You could try," he murmurs, his voice low and thick, "but you know that’d end in something very not slow." A gentle warning and a dare wrapped in silk, laced with the tension he’s barely containing now that he’s buried so deep, now that Ronin is arching into him like he was made for this.
The Knight’s whispered want floods through him like another heartbeat, fierce and bright and impossible to ignore. Remi’s arm tightens beneath Ronin’s neck, curling back to press his palm across the strong slope of his husband’s chest. His other hand holds steady to Ronin’s hip, guiding him back in time with the slow grind of his own body, twisting at the waist to chase deeper friction, fuller pressure, anything that might drag more of those breathless, needy sounds from Ronin’s lips.
When he finally lets go of the Knight’s hip, it’s only to wrap his hand around the base of Ronin’s cock, his palm hot and calloused, the grip steady as his thrusts remain slow—deliberate in a way that dares madness, that makes endurance feel like danger. Bowing his head, Remi presses his mouth to the crest of Ronin’s shoulder, teeth catching softly on skin already kissed red. "Gods, I wish I could fuck you like this all morning," he breathes, the words dragged from his chest like a confession.
The Knight’s whispered want floods through him like another heartbeat, fierce and bright and impossible to ignore. Remi’s arm tightens beneath Ronin’s neck, curling back to press his palm across the strong slope of his husband’s chest. His other hand holds steady to Ronin’s hip, guiding him back in time with the slow grind of his own body, twisting at the waist to chase deeper friction, fuller pressure, anything that might drag more of those breathless, needy sounds from Ronin’s lips.
When he finally lets go of the Knight’s hip, it’s only to wrap his hand around the base of Ronin’s cock, his palm hot and calloused, the grip steady as his thrusts remain slow—deliberate in a way that dares madness, that makes endurance feel like danger. Bowing his head, Remi presses his mouth to the crest of Ronin’s shoulder, teeth catching softly on skin already kissed red. "Gods, I wish I could fuck you like this all morning," he breathes, the words dragged from his chest like a confession.
Who are you? They ask. Death?
Sometimes... I say. But not today
Sometimes... I say. But not today
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.
