[ His moan is quiet but easily felt where Bull sets his mouth on Dorian's long neck, a sound that has a touch of whine in it, but how much he wants his skin unmarked is about as much as he wanted his clothing unruined, the evidence of the latter strewn around them, and evidence of the former in the way his chin tips back and aside.
The slowing down feels like something slipping away, an urgency dimming, even if the rest of his body doesn't know that. A little like a tide going out, still teasing at the edges in gentler, slowly, deliberate pushes, and he strains for more.
His hand finds its secure perch at the bend of Bull's horn, squeezing, a tug that encourages the biting, sucking feeling of his mouth. ]
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The slowing down feels like something slipping away, an urgency dimming, even if the rest of his body doesn't know that. A little like a tide going out, still teasing at the edges in gentler, slowly, deliberate pushes, and he strains for more.
His hand finds its secure perch at the bend of Bull's horn, squeezing, a tug that encourages the biting, sucking feeling of his mouth. ]