The strain against his throat was driving him to the edge— a steep line between comfort and discomfort. The imprint of the other man— his lover— inside of him, was intoxicating. This too wasn't a first, he knew it, but still, he couldn't help tracing his fingers over the imprint.
Watching the water build-up at the corner of Yang's eyes as he forced himself to make eye contact was pushing him to his limits. How much more of this man's obviously not so small pepper could he fit inside himself?
The hand behind his head was steady, Yang seemed to like this depth and was more occupied with the scene of Xu Feng between his legs. But for a certain silver-haired ger, he wanted to know what his limits were, and then he wanted to push those boundaries to near breaking. How much deeper could he go?
Yang liked to tease, but he didn't enjoy causing outright pain. 'I need to move slowly, no more trauma for this snake.'
