Hamilton rarely confesses his more degenerate experiences. He sometimes wonders what is wrong with him, that he can seek satisfaction in an alpha the same way he could in an omega or a woman. If he were all good, he would not have such a surfeit of sexual desire, he supposes, no matter how right it feels while he indulges. He is at a loss, too, to explain that he truly does enjoy penetrating his partner -- never as much as he's enjoyed penetrating Burr, but Burr is special. It seems, by what people say, that he should either prefer to take or to be taken.
He so rarely even allows himself to think about these things. Open acknowledgment would result in censure and condemnation; he cannot always be so lucky as to find people like Laurens.
He -- to put it mildly -- does not expect the surge of passion from his lover. For once, his endless flow of words fails him, and blood rushes to his length prodigiously quickly, leaving him dizzied. He is hard against Burr's leg in an instant, and an oh escapes him, his lips parting. He bares his throat to Burr's attentions, head tipping back, his fingers curling into the loose fabric of the soft gown. Oh, if it were not so soon after birth... Needy, yes, he would be needy, and out of his mind.
The soft, embarrassing whimper is silenced by Burr's mouth, a fierce tongue that unlocks him and sweeps across his palate, taking and taking until he turns his head only to gasp for breath.
"Oh, you--" he accuses, "you vixen." Breathless. There's so little snow left, but he wishes he could take a plunge in a snowbank, in the interest of calming the fire Burr has stoked.
no subject
He so rarely even allows himself to think about these things. Open acknowledgment would result in censure and condemnation; he cannot always be so lucky as to find people like Laurens.
He -- to put it mildly -- does not expect the surge of passion from his lover. For once, his endless flow of words fails him, and blood rushes to his length prodigiously quickly, leaving him dizzied. He is hard against Burr's leg in an instant, and an oh escapes him, his lips parting. He bares his throat to Burr's attentions, head tipping back, his fingers curling into the loose fabric of the soft gown. Oh, if it were not so soon after birth... Needy, yes, he would be needy, and out of his mind.
The soft, embarrassing whimper is silenced by Burr's mouth, a fierce tongue that unlocks him and sweeps across his palate, taking and taking until he turns his head only to gasp for breath.
"Oh, you--" he accuses, "you vixen." Breathless. There's so little snow left, but he wishes he could take a plunge in a snowbank, in the interest of calming the fire Burr has stoked.