Yussa's other arm moves above his head to press against the headboard, trying to brace himself as Caleb grinds into him. The best part of moments like this is Caleb giving himself permission to let go: so often it leads to delicious filth. And this is no exception.
At first he can't say anything. His eyebrows pinch together in an expression that would suggest distress if not for how good this feels. His hand is trembling as he strokes over his clit again and his cunt immediately bears down around Caleb on his next deep thrust. Every breath is edged with a moan as Caleb pushes deep again, and again, gaining speed and force until it becomes clear that Yussa may not be able to articulately respond at all.
His lover is hot and heavy above him, he can feel the firm grip on the back of his thigh pressing his leg out of the way, keeping him obscenely spread. The sound of their bodies moving together, the sound of skin against skin as Caleb fucks him with even less restraint.
"I--it's so much--" Yussa's instinct is to make himself come. Perhaps any other day, he might. But he meant it when he said he is Caleb's until dawn, and he won't finish himself without his patron asking for it and so he tries to moderate the way he touches himself. The chains slide against his skin with every thrust, adding an extra layer of sensation; on his back, they no longer cover his breasts quite so much, but serve to frame them as much as his tattoos.
no subject
At first he can't say anything. His eyebrows pinch together in an expression that would suggest distress if not for how good this feels. His hand is trembling as he strokes over his clit again and his cunt immediately bears down around Caleb on his next deep thrust. Every breath is edged with a moan as Caleb pushes deep again, and again, gaining speed and force until it becomes clear that Yussa may not be able to articulately respond at all.
His lover is hot and heavy above him, he can feel the firm grip on the back of his thigh pressing his leg out of the way, keeping him obscenely spread. The sound of their bodies moving together, the sound of skin against skin as Caleb fucks him with even less restraint.
"I--it's so much--" Yussa's instinct is to make himself come. Perhaps any other day, he might. But he meant it when he said he is Caleb's until dawn, and he won't finish himself without his patron asking for it and so he tries to moderate the way he touches himself. The chains slide against his skin with every thrust, adding an extra layer of sensation; on his back, they no longer cover his breasts quite so much, but serve to frame them as much as his tattoos.