Big Salmon Lake summerlight [m]

He cried out as the rhythm intensified, and pressed tightly against the cheek that came to rest against his own. Lasher's control was unfathomable; that he could ply them back from climax even now he delved into Luke with abandon, assaulting him with hard, fast strokes. He owned Luke in this moment, possessed him wholly. His mind, his body, all of it belonged to the earthen male. He was lost to him.

Lasher hissed against his ear as they stood on the edge together. The muscles in his legs had tensed to the point of pain and he was the first to fall, barking his lover's name before he growled and clenched his teeth against another final assault, the most feral yet. He quaked beneath the dark man, who did not cease the dance even as they were bound. Dizzied, inflamed, he whimpered and whined, for the sensation, the pleasure, was more intense than he knew possible. It was almost unbearable, it almost hurt.

Indeed, he had experienced pain in this, but even as they separated and Lasher slid from his back, he knew it was a pain he had relished in, a pleasure he was now drunk on. He collapsed where he had stood, trembling, panting. He looked to his lover with grin and pulled himself to him, tucking his muzzle beneath his jaw, against his throat as his tongue lolled.