RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
It does feel fragile, but in the way that a powder keg jostling too near some errant sparks feels fragile. Any little thing might nudge it over, and the resulting combustion might be very good or very bad, depending on the moods of the two men at the core of it. Bracing an arm against the bed that he might continue to hold himself over Remi, Ronin's eyes slip shut to enjoy the sensation of calloused fingertips tickling over his sides.
His hips arch to join the other man's, and already he's more than rising to the occasion, his tongue giving one last teasing flick against Remi's lips before he draws back enough to blink himself back to the here and now, and to the meticulously inked body beneath his own. "I want you," he whispers suddenly. "And I want you to fuck me."
His hips arch to join the other man's, and already he's more than rising to the occasion, his tongue giving one last teasing flick against Remi's lips before he draws back enough to blink himself back to the here and now, and to the meticulously inked body beneath his own. "I want you," he whispers suddenly. "And I want you to fuck me."
show me your darkness.
