[It does, he whispers back. It's good. And it isn't a lie - every bit of this, the good and the bad, is a miracle, and he wouldn't trade a single sensation for something easier. Intent on shattering the careful, tentative control, he rolls his hips into the rhythm of Ronan's hand, pushing at the pace.
You won't hurt me. Please. He scrapes Ronan's neck with his teeth, and tugs at his hair, just slightly. You can let go.]
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You won't hurt me. Please. He scrapes Ronan's neck with his teeth, and tugs at his hair, just slightly. You can let go.]