Ephram is likely past words. That voice breaking, the harsh breathing, is because of him, and he loves that feeling of power. He would also love to relinquish that power, but that was a thought for another time.
He knows when his length rubs against that pleasurable internal spot, based purely on the flutter in Nero's voice and the reflexive clench. A sudden wave shifts the ship, forcing Ephram to brace himself with his left hand on the wall next to Nero's. His right is still gloriously occupied with knowing the length of Nero's erection, attempting to stroke in time with his quickly erratic thrusts.
"God in heaven," he whispers against the tendon joining shoulder to neck.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-09-21 07:11 am (UTC)He knows when his length rubs against that pleasurable internal spot, based purely on the flutter in Nero's voice and the reflexive clench. A sudden wave shifts the ship, forcing Ephram to brace himself with his left hand on the wall next to Nero's. His right is still gloriously occupied with knowing the length of Nero's erection, attempting to stroke in time with his quickly erratic thrusts.
"God in heaven," he whispers against the tendon joining shoulder to neck.