[Yeah, this is exactly why Wolfwood had to be tied up before, because if they'd started like this? Ain would have given up the powerbottoming and immediately demand to be flipped over and railed. He's down bad for Wolfwood, he's been down bad, and none of it is helped by how hot the man is. Like dear god.
Yet despite those nails digging into his hips, which he very much appreciates by the way, Ain keeps up the pace. He doesn't give in to broader instincts, oh no, he's bouncing on Wolfwood like he's trying to win an award for it. Even now, he could probably stop putting in the effort and just let Wolfwood do all the work from below and it would still be enough to get them both off, but no.
He decides at some point between Wolfwood grabbing his hips and being like, mere seconds from climax, that if the insides of his thighs aren't bruised he'll consider the night a wash.
He's close. So, so close, that each movement is uncoordinated, with Ain almost struggling to remember that he has to do this for Wolfwood too. He lifts his hips up and down, once, twice, thrice more — and when he sinks down that last time it's there that Ain winds up coming undone in almost record time, shooting far enough to coat Wolfwood's chest of all things, head thrown back in a long cry of his name.
So like. The entire Grove knows you two fucked now. Congrats.]
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[Yeah, this is exactly why Wolfwood had to be tied up before, because if they'd started like this? Ain would have given up the powerbottoming and immediately demand to be flipped over and railed. He's down bad for Wolfwood, he's been down bad, and none of it is helped by how hot the man is. Like dear god.
Yet despite those nails digging into his hips, which he very much appreciates by the way, Ain keeps up the pace. He doesn't give in to broader instincts, oh no, he's bouncing on Wolfwood like he's trying to win an award for it. Even now, he could probably stop putting in the effort and just let Wolfwood do all the work from below and it would still be enough to get them both off, but no.
He decides at some point between Wolfwood grabbing his hips and being like, mere seconds from climax, that if the insides of his thighs aren't bruised he'll consider the night a wash.
He's close. So, so close, that each movement is uncoordinated, with Ain almost struggling to remember that he has to do this for Wolfwood too. He lifts his hips up and down, once, twice, thrice more — and when he sinks down that last time it's there that Ain winds up coming undone in almost record time, shooting far enough to coat Wolfwood's chest of all things, head thrown back in a long cry of his name.
So like. The entire Grove knows you two fucked now. Congrats.]