[Perhaps he'll remember this the next time he dons the robes of their office: Dan Feng's mouth hot through the fine fabric, a thumb slipping under the silver cuff high on his thigh, pressing against heated skin. How he moans, muffled, eyes shuttering, as if being between Dan Heng's legs was his favorite place to be.
He'll be able to grab at Dan Feng's hair, even as shifts, pillowing his cheek on Dan Heng's bare ribs. He smiles at Dan Heng in a way that he's been told is extremely aggravating.]
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He'll be able to grab at Dan Feng's hair, even as shifts, pillowing his cheek on Dan Heng's bare ribs. He smiles at Dan Heng in a way that he's been told is extremely aggravating.]
Be good for me, Xiaoheng. Everything off.