[ This is a level of weak and vulnerable that Ronan's never felt before, he feels guilt threatening to choke him, mixing with the pleasure that he feels and twisting together into a newer and sicker feeling that pushes him that much closer to orgasm. And he's sure that out of everything, the very last thing that he wants it to be brought to climax by Kavinsky -- there's only ever been one person to get him there and Ronan is so stubbornly set in his serial monogamist ways that he honestly never wants another person to do it.
And yet, here's Kavinsky, learning quickly just what Ronan likes -- from the way he twists his wrists and thumbs at the sensitive spot just under his flared, leaking head, to the pressure right against his throat, bordering on stifling and making each breath he takes just a little more strained, a little more difficult. -- and exploiting each one with just the same quickness. ]
What happened to just us?
[ That laugh echoes in Ronan's head and acts like gasoline to the fire burning inside of him and by the time Kavinsky's words have left him, his hips have betrayed him completely, moving in time with the other's strokes. He's close. The edge and that sweet release are right there and even underneath all the guilt and shame he still wants it.
(And what a thought that sickens him.)
Thankfully, the rest of his body remains fairly loyal and Ronan tears his mouth away from Kavinsky's not even a second after their lips touch -- the sudden jolt mixing with the sharp edges of Kavinsky's teeth leaving a small cut in Ronan's lower lip. ]
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And yet, here's Kavinsky, learning quickly just what Ronan likes -- from the way he twists his wrists and thumbs at the sensitive spot just under his flared, leaking head, to the pressure right against his throat, bordering on stifling and making each breath he takes just a little more strained, a little more difficult. -- and exploiting each one with just the same quickness. ]
What happened to just us?
[ That laugh echoes in Ronan's head and acts like gasoline to the fire burning inside of him and by the time Kavinsky's words have left him, his hips have betrayed him completely, moving in time with the other's strokes. He's close. The edge and that sweet release are right there and even underneath all the guilt and shame he still wants it.
(And what a thought that sickens him.)
Thankfully, the rest of his body remains fairly loyal and Ronan tears his mouth away from Kavinsky's not even a second after their lips touch -- the sudden jolt mixing with the sharp edges of Kavinsky's teeth leaving a small cut in Ronan's lower lip. ]