shut the door & cut me open

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving A distracted smile flickered across Ronin’s lips as Remi arched up and pressed his cheek against his face (drawing a stuttered sort of breath from him given their current positions). Every inch was something he fully intended to give his husband, over and over until he could take no more. With a low groan, Ronin’s free hand slid beneath one of Remi’s ass cheeks; combined with the leg hooked over his shoulder, he was able to properly hold the alchemist’s hips up. So when Remi relaxed back again, the hunter was able to surge harder and deeper with each thrust, and the sight and feel of his husband alone was enough to nearly undo him. Remi beneath and below him, wanton and hard a a rock, their bodies tangled together in the most important places— Ronin’s rhythm became more wild and untempered. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and he had to bite his lip around the loud moans that wanted to escape his throat; sometimes Remi’s name or parts of it, sometimes nothing more than a raw exclamation of pleasure.