[ The feeling of Wriothesley coming against him, spilling over his fingers, their stomachs, as they lay tangled together, has him moaning into that kiss, breathless and wanton.
And it only takes a few more strokes of the other man’s hand, his own hips rocking into that tight grip, before Sylvain is following him. Shuddering through his own orgasm with a low, breathless cry. ]
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And it only takes a few more strokes of the other man’s hand, his own hips rocking into that tight grip, before Sylvain is following him. Shuddering through his own orgasm with a low, breathless cry. ]
Fuck.