I hardly see how that's of benefit to you, [ is delivered a lot airier and lighter than he feels. Bull's gaze on him is an added weight, as tangible as a hand at his throat, and he blindly, carefully, empties some oil onto his hand.
Not too much. Running out would be a tragedy.
Because Maker, Dorian wants to stay right here, as if Bull were to make good on those taunts about not letting him leave. He isn't wrong, about greed, but perhaps doesn't know exactly how right he is. (Or so Dorian can only assume.)
His hand wraps back around Bull, and delivers a smooth stroke, firmer and more rewarding than the tease of nails or static squeezing. A cursory grope further down between Bull's legs leaves behind that same slick sensation that coats him from root to tip. There's enough of him down there that what feels like a generous amount of oil works out to be exactly enough. ]
no subject
Not too much. Running out would be a tragedy.
Because Maker, Dorian wants to stay right here, as if Bull were to make good on those taunts about not letting him leave. He isn't wrong, about greed, but perhaps doesn't know exactly how right he is. (Or so Dorian can only assume.)
His hand wraps back around Bull, and delivers a smooth stroke, firmer and more rewarding than the tease of nails or static squeezing. A cursory grope further down between Bull's legs leaves behind that same slick sensation that coats him from root to tip. There's enough of him down there that what feels like a generous amount of oil works out to be exactly enough. ]