The wet sounds of their joining echoed off the tiles, mingling with Haruki's low moans. But the counter wasn't enough; Hiroshi pulled out with a slick pop, leaving Haruki aching and empty, then hoisted him up, carrying him to the bedroom.
The air cooled their damp skin as Hiroshi laid him on the smooth sheets, climbing over with a predatory glint softened by affection.
Re-entering in one deep shove, Hiroshi hit that spot dead-on, wrenching a cry from Haruki. The pace quickened, bed creaking under the force, Hiroshi's body covering his.
Warm, insistent, the slight roughness in his grips on Haruki's thighs a mark of their short time together, a way to claim what Haruki usually directed.
Sweat slicked their skin, the room heavy with musk and the faint lavender from the linens. Haruki felt the coil tighten unbearably, every nerve firing, his control fraying as pleasure overrode everything.
