The bucking and scratching was everything the Brit wanted. "You're fucking perfect."
In the haze of drunken lust, he felt it even more intensely than usual. Rekker was falling in love with the bitchy whore that he couldn't stop fucking. He threw his head back growling from the exertion of pounding the tight Swede. The Brit didn't have much in the way of nails but those last few rough thrusts had him scratching, digging his nails into the surely bruised, soft skin of the singer's hips as he rode out the orgasm. Slamming into his lover and holding Bjorn there as he filled his ass.
Growling, low and possessive, he leaned forward with one hand bracing him and the other slipping around Bjorn's waist. Panting he held on, kissing over the pale skin of his lover's shoulder as his sweat dampened hair started to spill forward. Damn he felt exhausted, slick with sweat, drunk, and wildly avaricious now that his lust was starting to feel satisfied.
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In the haze of drunken lust, he felt it even more intensely than usual. Rekker was falling in love with the bitchy whore that he couldn't stop fucking. He threw his head back growling from the exertion of pounding the tight Swede. The Brit didn't have much in the way of nails but those last few rough thrusts had him scratching, digging his nails into the surely bruised, soft skin of the singer's hips as he rode out the orgasm. Slamming into his lover and holding Bjorn there as he filled his ass.
Growling, low and possessive, he leaned forward with one hand bracing him and the other slipping around Bjorn's waist. Panting he held on, kissing over the pale skin of his lover's shoulder as his sweat dampened hair started to spill forward. Damn he felt exhausted, slick with sweat, drunk, and wildly avaricious now that his lust was starting to feel satisfied.