[Noah shudders, biting down on Ronan's skin, hard enough to leave a distinct mark. His mind pushes out a litany of curses and praises, and his hand's steady rhythm skips, speeding up without intention. He tries to contribute to the fantasy, but his thoughts are disorganized, just a tangle of image and sensation - the delicious pleasure-pain of sinking down onto Ronan, the unbearable adoration, the slow, stuttered pace.]
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