[ Nails catch against Locus' scalp, settling under the heat and weight of him slotting in just right between his legs. Solid. That's a good word for Locus in every possible way and now? It's never been hotter. He goes tense for a moment, strains upward to see if he can shift Locus and, maybe he could.
But he doesn't want to.
Taylor melts under his tongue, another low groan twisting out of him. ]
no subject
But he doesn't want to.
Taylor melts under his tongue, another low groan twisting out of him. ]