[ Dorian's knees edge a little higher, relenting. Relaxing. Breathing, too, breath warm and damp where it whispers along Bull's scarred cheek, verging on an indignant huff at what is either teasing or command and most certainly that accursed nickname (that he's never protested)-- indignant, anyway, until he feels Bull's mouth on his throat again.
He closes his eyes, melting beneath it as his head tips aside, his hands having wandered up onto Bull's arms, gripping.
Remaining otherwise still while Bull's hand works between his legs, oil warming swiftly between them, painting up the inner tops of his thighs as obscenely as the way he can feel his own pulse in his cock. Dorian slides his hands up back along shoulders, tracking a path that's becoming familiar, to better hook hands around horns. And tugging, but inwards, encouraging the feeling of tongue and teeth and sucking pressure, and the growls he usually gains when he does that. ]
no subject
He closes his eyes, melting beneath it as his head tips aside, his hands having wandered up onto Bull's arms, gripping.
Remaining otherwise still while Bull's hand works between his legs, oil warming swiftly between them, painting up the inner tops of his thighs as obscenely as the way he can feel his own pulse in his cock. Dorian slides his hands up back along shoulders, tracking a path that's becoming familiar, to better hook hands around horns. And tugging, but inwards, encouraging the feeling of tongue and teeth and sucking pressure, and the growls he usually gains when he does that. ]