[ Arched tight and panting, full and shivering through the slow pace he's set so he'll get to feel all of Bull at least once before coming (and even that might be optimistic) it's the warmth in Bull's voice that has his shoulders going loose, his face tipping in his direction. Admiration- he's used to attraction, to lust. To being a desirable object. But admiration? Approval, affection- these are things denied and desperately craved when every other shred of him is scraped away.
His breathing goes slower, evens out just a little as he holds still for the flex. The bite. Doesn't move while he adjusts until there's that order he felt might be coming. ]
Si, Toro-
[ Cut off with a cry as he drops down further, a quarter more? An inch more? keeping track is impossible. ]
no subject
His breathing goes slower, evens out just a little as he holds still for the flex. The bite. Doesn't move while he adjusts until there's that order he felt might be coming. ]
Si, Toro-
[ Cut off with a cry as he drops down further, a quarter more? An inch more? keeping track is impossible. ]