REMI
the alchemist
What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold
if there's nothing that they hold
Riled and untethered as he is, every snap! from the fireplace where the flames have burst a pocket of sap has the alchemist snarling possessively against Ronin's skin, and every howl of the wind outside has feathers trickling down his spine in hostile defiance. That didn't mean the heat from the flames nor the roar of darkness was unwelcome, merely that any semblance of rationality on Remi's part had been fully eclipsed by the weight and warmth and feel of the Huntsman around him.
Each of Remi's thrusts was accompanied by deeper notches carved into their table as he mindlessly fought to balance the forward movement of his hips. Though he had ample strength and endurance, part of him yearned to forego his hold on the physics of the situation and succumb entirely to the building core of pressure expanding from the base of his spine. hold on to me, Remi thought, as his lips were still parted in a silent scream against his husband's chest, soundlessly pleading for more of everything against the ink-stained hawk tattooed there.
With whatever meagre amount of thought was left in his body, Remi reached for Ronin's magic. Though the duplicate who appeared seemed lack lustre compared to the Lullaby, its role was simple enough for the minute amount of concentration Remi had to provide it. Slipping a hand between Remi's belly, the duplicate reached for Ronin's cock that it might give the Huntsman the friction necessary to orgasm as well without having to take his hands from his husband.
Each of Remi's thrusts was accompanied by deeper notches carved into their table as he mindlessly fought to balance the forward movement of his hips. Though he had ample strength and endurance, part of him yearned to forego his hold on the physics of the situation and succumb entirely to the building core of pressure expanding from the base of his spine. hold on to me, Remi thought, as his lips were still parted in a silent scream against his husband's chest, soundlessly pleading for more of everything against the ink-stained hawk tattooed there.
With whatever meagre amount of thought was left in his body, Remi reached for Ronin's magic. Though the duplicate who appeared seemed lack lustre compared to the Lullaby, its role was simple enough for the minute amount of concentration Remi had to provide it. Slipping a hand between Remi's belly, the duplicate reached for Ronin's cock that it might give the Huntsman the friction necessary to orgasm as well without having to take his hands from his husband.
And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?
if you bury them all alone?
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.
