NATE
A rumble leaves Nate that's more of a purr than anything else, breathless and demanding as his lips drag against his husband's throat, layering marks. It fills him with a bright flare of possessiveness, taking back what's his, with Sunjata's eager consent, the shifting of his chin to offer more. I missed you so much. He might be repeating himself, but the craving in his thoughts, in the grasping twitching of his fingers marks this as something different, something far more specific.
Above all else though, there is a keen focus on Sunjata, every squeezing touch measured against the responses it gets. Not that Nate allows himself to get lost in his exploration, fingers in his hair drawing soft groans from him, sounds that are all but lost to Even before the demand, Nate had been an open book, a flowing river, but with it he doesn't hold back anything; the way he wants to all but devour his husband, how he wants to wind him up and up and up and watch him snap, needy and desperate and whining Nate's name.
Fingers wind themselves tightly into Sunjata's hair, holding him close, holding him still, pressed in against the ascended's throat. Nate's hips roll again, slower this time, while nails drag from the attuned's hip to the base of his cock. Every motion is slow, deliberate. The fact that it's teasing is only a side effect. Being able to hold the other man like this only fans the flame in Nate, that aching hunger to dominate, to be the one to undo Sunjata. His hand closes without warning, moving up the length of his hardness roughly, after such soft, slow touches. "Moan for me, darling." The words that claw themselves out of Nate's throat rake across his husband's ears and mind both.
Above all else though, there is a keen focus on Sunjata, every squeezing touch measured against the responses it gets. Not that Nate allows himself to get lost in his exploration, fingers in his hair drawing soft groans from him, sounds that are all but lost to Even before the demand, Nate had been an open book, a flowing river, but with it he doesn't hold back anything; the way he wants to all but devour his husband, how he wants to wind him up and up and up and watch him snap, needy and desperate and whining Nate's name.
Fingers wind themselves tightly into Sunjata's hair, holding him close, holding him still, pressed in against the ascended's throat. Nate's hips roll again, slower this time, while nails drag from the attuned's hip to the base of his cock. Every motion is slow, deliberate. The fact that it's teasing is only a side effect. Being able to hold the other man like this only fans the flame in Nate, that aching hunger to dominate, to be the one to undo Sunjata. His hand closes without warning, moving up the length of his hardness roughly, after such soft, slow touches. "Moan for me, darling." The words that claw themselves out of Nate's throat rake across his husband's ears and mind both.
killed my old self
but the new me isn't much better
but the new me isn't much better
