[Orym whimpers, fingers opening and closing around the sheets as Dorian prepares him. Part of him wants to beg for Dorian to just take him now, damn the preparation, that he needs him too much to worry about it, that he wants him even if it hurts, needs him like he needs his next breath.]

I need you so badly, Dorian. I need you to fuck me hard, so that I can feel it for days, even when you're gone. I want to remember.

[He rocks back against those fingers, all wanton eagerness, undisguised need.]