Yu Xi's eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth open in a silent cry. He felt full, stretched to the limit, the burn morphing into a deep, aching pleasure that made his world tilt on its axis.
"Move," Yu Xi begged, his legs wrapping around Jian Ci's waist. "Please, gege."
Jian Ci pulled back almost all the way and then drove back in. Hard. Yu Xi's cry was loud, ragged. Jian Ci set a punishing pace from the start, no gentle build, just pure, unadulterated fucking.
Each thrust was a deep, hard drill, pounding into that perfect spot inside Yu Xi with unerring accuracy. The bed rocked, the headboard knocking against the wall in a steady, frantic rhythm.
Yu Xi was straddling him, meeting every thrust, taking every inch. He was crying out, a constant, broken litany. "Gege! Gege! Yes, right there, ah fuck, don't stop, it's so good, I can't—!"
