[ Fingers dig into the meat of Mace's shoulder, Ian's breath goes hitched and shaking, words spilling from his lips like he can't hold them back.
And then he's pressing his forehead right in the space between neck and shoulder, his body tightening underneath in a way that Mace knows is a prelude to orgasm. It sends satisfaction echoing through Mace, something hot blooming in the center of him, and he tilts his head so that he can take the tip of Ian's ear between his teeth and worry at it.
I'm gonna — ]
Yeah, c'mon, let me see it —
[ His voice is warm and rough, and Ian comes so hard it doesn't dribble out or spill but shoots all over the fist stroking him fast and hard and merciless, hitting both of Mace's hands, the front of his jeans, dripping down to his own pelvis. Mace works him through it, slowing down and gentling, brings him down off that edge while whispering fond nonsense into his ear.
Something soft ripples through him and he turns his head to press his lips in a brief kiss to Ian's temple before drawing back with a satisfied sound in his chest, taking in the sight in front of him with lazy, dark eyes. He can feel the insistent ache between his own legs but it's distant for now, something non-priority.
There's a faint sting as some of Ian's release gets into the cuts on the knuckles of his hand, and he licks it off, tasting bitter salt and copper. And then he's leaning down again, nudging Ian's face up with the back of one clean finger and capturing his lips in a deep kiss, pushing his own taste into his mouth. ]
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And then he's pressing his forehead right in the space between neck and shoulder, his body tightening underneath in a way that Mace knows is a prelude to orgasm. It sends satisfaction echoing through Mace, something hot blooming in the center of him, and he tilts his head so that he can take the tip of Ian's ear between his teeth and worry at it.
I'm gonna — ]
Yeah, c'mon, let me see it —
[ His voice is warm and rough, and Ian comes so hard it doesn't dribble out or spill but shoots all over the fist stroking him fast and hard and merciless, hitting both of Mace's hands, the front of his jeans, dripping down to his own pelvis. Mace works him through it, slowing down and gentling, brings him down off that edge while whispering fond nonsense into his ear.
Something soft ripples through him and he turns his head to press his lips in a brief kiss to Ian's temple before drawing back with a satisfied sound in his chest, taking in the sight in front of him with lazy, dark eyes. He can feel the insistent ache between his own legs but it's distant for now, something non-priority.
There's a faint sting as some of Ian's release gets into the cuts on the knuckles of his hand, and he licks it off, tasting bitter salt and copper. And then he's leaning down again, nudging Ian's face up with the back of one clean finger and capturing his lips in a deep kiss, pushing his own taste into his mouth. ]