[ Something protective rolls through him as he watches York surrender by inches. It prompts a sort of gentleness in him as that single, slick digits works inside of him. He's so tight, but the want is painted clear as day across his face.
One, then two knuckles deep, flexing slowly before withdrawing, dragging against the smooth clutch of his body. Again. And Again. Until there's enough give to slide in a second and feel that resistance all over again. ]
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One, then two knuckles deep, flexing slowly before withdrawing, dragging against the smooth clutch of his body. Again. And Again. Until there's enough give to slide in a second and feel that resistance all over again. ]
...I've got you.