Ashen doesn't speak, just shifts forward, the movement quiet but eager. That tiny invitation is all Kyle needs.
He hovers over Ashen again, taking position as before, only this time easing himself in with slow, careful pressure.
The heat that wraps around him nearly makes him black out, welcoming and slick and impossibly tight, but no resistance this time, no hesitation.
Ashen moans, ragged, a sound that rakes across Kyle's spine like claws. Kyle thrusts in deeper, burying himself to the hilt, hips shuddering.
"Mmhh…fuck," he curses, voice breaking into a snarl as he struggles to hold himself back, already threatening to come from just the feel of Ashen opening around him so perfectly.
Ashen's moans dissolve into something choppy and desperate, each sound punching free with every shift of Kyle's hips.
Kyle tries to promise himself to be gentle, to go slow, to worship rather than claim, but the molten heat between them is unstoppable.
