[ It's when Yingxing's kiss finds his mouth again that Dan Heng's breath catches, that his hips arch into those steady thrusts, the swirl of those fingers over his swollen, aching clit. And somehow, more than that, it's the murmur that truly undoes him, the way the older man calls him a good boy and refers to his body in such a casually filthy way. A term he would normally hate, and yet—
He gasps out his pleasure, his fingers curling tight into the other's skin, holding himself steady as he falls into that pleasure, an orgasm not as physically intense as the others, and yet somehow still moreso, in ways he can't explain. His walls clench, and he chases Yingxing's mouth for kiss after kiss after kiss, until he's breathless, his whole body trembling with the sensation.
The others were good. Amazing, even. And yet somehow, still nothing like this. He's dizzy with the pleasure as he comes down, mouth moving against Yingxing's in a silent plea, something rough and ragged, a plea to be filled up again— ]
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He gasps out his pleasure, his fingers curling tight into the other's skin, holding himself steady as he falls into that pleasure, an orgasm not as physically intense as the others, and yet somehow still moreso, in ways he can't explain. His walls clench, and he chases Yingxing's mouth for kiss after kiss after kiss, until he's breathless, his whole body trembling with the sensation.
The others were good. Amazing, even. And yet somehow, still nothing like this. He's dizzy with the pleasure as he comes down, mouth moving against Yingxing's in a silent plea, something rough and ragged, a plea to be filled up again— ]