we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead
Every touch is torture and bliss rolled into one; every stroke of Remi's fingers, every gasp against his shoulder, and Ronin throws himself into the sweetness of the moment. By now they are usually entwined with one another in chaos and passion, in the sound of skin on skin, or the slam of a headboard against a wall. But here things are still slow and recklessly indulgent, even as the Star feels his climax beginning to creep up on him.
"I don't know if I can--" He gasps out, his hand sliding down to squeeze at Remi's ass, to clutch him closer that every thrust might get that little bit deeper. It's not that he doesn't know if he can stop as much as he doesn't know if he can hold on, Ronin all but overcome by the pleasure that begins to crackle through the base of his spine and up towards the back of his throat.
It's only a few moments more when he does cum, a delicious shudder running through him, his hips driving forward and anchoring against Remi as he's thrown headfirst into the madness of it all.
"I don't know if I can--" He gasps out, his hand sliding down to squeeze at Remi's ass, to clutch him closer that every thrust might get that little bit deeper. It's not that he doesn't know if he can stop as much as he doesn't know if he can hold on, Ronin all but overcome by the pleasure that begins to crackle through the base of his spine and up towards the back of his throat.
It's only a few moments more when he does cum, a delicious shudder running through him, his hips driving forward and anchoring against Remi as he's thrown headfirst into the madness of it all.
THE DARK STAR
and continue fighting
