[It doesn't take long, or much effort at all, before Dan Feng's thighs lock tight around Yingxing's ears, one arm bracing around his shoulders, and his other hand wrapping tight around the base of one horn. His slick has taken on the sweet-salt of Vidyaharan heat, a vestigial signifier of fertility, and there's so much of it that it's dripping out of him.]
Bastard- [He hisses, digging claws into skin as he comes, red with embarrassment, on Yingxing's mouth.]
no subject
Bastard- [He hisses, digging claws into skin as he comes, red with embarrassment, on Yingxing's mouth.]