[There is a slight twitch of his body as he eases into every sensation. Scraping, grating, grinding. The murmur is a feathered kiss of air, the sting that jerks his head to hush his cry. He won't allow such a sound to escape. Instead, his cry turns into an amused huff of laughter.]
Antsy man.
[He reaches for the hand at his hip, preparing for a struggle. Honestly, thinking he can be the one who tugs and dominates. As usual, it was all a game. A flirtatious game that he aimed to win.]
no subject
Antsy man.
[He reaches for the hand at his hip, preparing for a struggle. Honestly, thinking he can be the one who tugs and dominates. As usual, it was all a game. A flirtatious game that he aimed to win.]