[Orym whimpers once more as he feels Dorian spill inside him, feels those final thrusts that drive the other man's prick deep, so deep inside him. He gasps once more before tipping forward in a breathless, boneless pile of halfling, tucking himself up against Dorian's chest.
He relaxes his grip, hands soothing almost apologetically over the marks his nails have left, lines and indented halfmoons on Dorian's beautiful skin.]
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He relaxes his grip, hands soothing almost apologetically over the marks his nails have left, lines and indented halfmoons on Dorian's beautiful skin.]