and on to the glory at my right hand
The physical sensations alone are enough to have Ronin moaning into the cold air, his heel digging into the Lullaby's shoulder, his cock twitching with anticipation of a touch that won't come (but it won't stop him, he bets). Add in the torrent of emotion that collides with him and the lips against his neck and chest feel like fire, the Huntsmans hips rolling against each thrust, like there's still more of him to be had somehow.
Blame yourself. You do this to me, he all but snarls back at the other man through their bond, unable to speak for trying to catch his breath. There's a warbling sense of euphoria that he's chasing, mounting with each moment that passes, and Ronin drives towards it with reckless abandon.
Fuck, right there-- he purrs, humming needily into the kiss and flexing fingers tipped with talons still trapped in Remi's grip. A mere touch from his other hand and he knows it'll all be over, and he holds off as long as he can.
Blame yourself. You do this to me, he all but snarls back at the other man through their bond, unable to speak for trying to catch his breath. There's a warbling sense of euphoria that he's chasing, mounting with each moment that passes, and Ronin drives towards it with reckless abandon.
Fuck, right there-- he purrs, humming needily into the kiss and flexing fingers tipped with talons still trapped in Remi's grip. A mere touch from his other hand and he knows it'll all be over, and he holds off as long as he can.
ronin
