[ His eyes fall closed, brow furrowed as he focuses on hat he's taking- on molding his body around Bull's cock instead of letting gravity do the work and hoping for the best. Scraps of his training that he actually reaches for through the haze without the whys and the hows of learning it, only the muscle memory. Going liquid, going lax, melting enough to take more as he hitches himself up on his thighs to better brace himself against the bed, a subtle shift in the angle of his hips to make it a little easier- and down.
Halfway, down, and there's the sting he'd wanted, the flash of heat lancing through him he ached for that has him going still with a cut off moan. He needs the press of Bull's hand, the low burr of his voice to remind him to be here. To breathe. ]
no subject
Halfway, down, and there's the sting he'd wanted, the flash of heat lancing through him he ached for that has him going still with a cut off moan. He needs the press of Bull's hand, the low burr of his voice to remind him to be here. To breathe. ]