RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
Ronin almost feels drunk with sensation; the heat of Remi's skin as he presses kisses to his neck is nearly feverish, and the mechanic's hands can't seem to get enough of the body before him. And all of that is nothing - nothing compared to the feeling of Remi all around him, and the way the other man's hips roll drags a surprised groan from Ronin's throat. His mind doesn't even get a chance to give his body the green light before he's rising to meet the sensation, hissing in a breath and smiling against Remi's shoulder.
"God, you have no idea," he mumbles, his hips driving forward of their own accord now. There will never be another first time, and Ronin can safely say that he has every intention of repeating the performance and then some. (Then again, he'd have probably promised anything to Remi if it meant he didn't have to pause this moment). Shifting a little, the hand gripping the musician's hip slips down to grip the base of his cock, as if belatedly realising he can give Remi that handjob he'd missed out on the first time they'd met.
"God, you have no idea," he mumbles, his hips driving forward of their own accord now. There will never be another first time, and Ronin can safely say that he has every intention of repeating the performance and then some. (Then again, he'd have probably promised anything to Remi if it meant he didn't have to pause this moment). Shifting a little, the hand gripping the musician's hip slips down to grip the base of his cock, as if belatedly realising he can give Remi that handjob he'd missed out on the first time they'd met.
show me your darkness.
