[ There it is. Something like a rhythm, the beginning of one, matching the shift of Zevran's hips and stroking against him from the inside. Quick, at first, then slow, long, dragging upon withdrawal.
Bull's forehead presses against his as a second finger starts nudging. He can take it, sure, but he wants to make certain he enjoys every second of it. ]
no subject
[ There it is. Something like a rhythm, the beginning of one, matching the shift of Zevran's hips and stroking against him from the inside. Quick, at first, then slow, long, dragging upon withdrawal.
Bull's forehead presses against his as a second finger starts nudging. He can take it, sure, but he wants to make certain he enjoys every second of it. ]
You've got a clever enough tongue.