He takes them fiercely and mercilessly, a claim over them both. Laurens, accommodating, and Aaron, helpless. The impossible grip of his mate's body. Warm, thick smells, musky, animal.
He can be forgiven, perhaps, for not lasting long under those circumstances. Even if the muscles still pull a little inside him from where he was taken already twice this morning. Even the slight swell of his knot can't fit past Burr's terribly stretched and battered entrance, and this is intolerable.
Hamilton grabs on to Burr, bodily, and flips him over onto his back next to Laurens, surging on top of him. His knot presses in easily, swells fast, and he sinks his teeth hard in at Burr's gland, canines breaking the skin, swell of sweet blood on his lips and his cock deep in Burr's body, which pulses, flutters around him as Burr's cunt milks pleasure from his knot. Burr's cunt must have been worked so hard it's tender, because it engulfs him in the softest heat he's ever felt. Soft, welcoming, wet heat, and he is lapping up the trickles of blood, bathing Burr's throat in long licks, when he realizes: he has mated Burr, truly, now, in the most primal of ways. Burr is his, and with that immensely pleasurable thought, he feels himself release into Burr's vulnerable womb.
The purr that rises in him is answered outside him. A nuzzle at Hamilton's own throat, slow licks where he is sensitive, and he arches a little, bares his throat to Laurens's attentions. Because it is Laurens, halfway up, one hand on Hamilton's shoulder, nose buried in the soft flesh under Hamilton's jaw. His body remembers Laurens penetrating him, biting him, doing both with Burr's approval. Why does this feel right, this way? Why does it set him at ease that Laurens takes Hamilton's scent on him, breathes it in the way he does?
Laurens helps guide them when Hamilton instinctively shifts, instinctively wants Burr laying on his chest. And then Laurens nudges Burr's thighs farther apart and -- ahh, his hot breath, and then his tongue must be lending Burr some special torment, either on his cunt's lips or at his other passage, because Burr shifts up and goes a little tighter on Hamilton's knot. Hamilton takes his cock in hand, and doesn't even have to coax it to hardness -- Burr is hard and desperate, and his cock weeps wet almost as much as his hole does. He is a mess.
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He can be forgiven, perhaps, for not lasting long under those circumstances. Even if the muscles still pull a little inside him from where he was taken already twice this morning. Even the slight swell of his knot can't fit past Burr's terribly stretched and battered entrance, and this is intolerable.
Hamilton grabs on to Burr, bodily, and flips him over onto his back next to Laurens, surging on top of him. His knot presses in easily, swells fast, and he sinks his teeth hard in at Burr's gland, canines breaking the skin, swell of sweet blood on his lips and his cock deep in Burr's body, which pulses, flutters around him as Burr's cunt milks pleasure from his knot. Burr's cunt must have been worked so hard it's tender, because it engulfs him in the softest heat he's ever felt. Soft, welcoming, wet heat, and he is lapping up the trickles of blood, bathing Burr's throat in long licks, when he realizes: he has mated Burr, truly, now, in the most primal of ways. Burr is his, and with that immensely pleasurable thought, he feels himself release into Burr's vulnerable womb.
The purr that rises in him is answered outside him. A nuzzle at Hamilton's own throat, slow licks where he is sensitive, and he arches a little, bares his throat to Laurens's attentions. Because it is Laurens, halfway up, one hand on Hamilton's shoulder, nose buried in the soft flesh under Hamilton's jaw. His body remembers Laurens penetrating him, biting him, doing both with Burr's approval. Why does this feel right, this way? Why does it set him at ease that Laurens takes Hamilton's scent on him, breathes it in the way he does?
Laurens helps guide them when Hamilton instinctively shifts, instinctively wants Burr laying on his chest. And then Laurens nudges Burr's thighs farther apart and -- ahh, his hot breath, and then his tongue must be lending Burr some special torment, either on his cunt's lips or at his other passage, because Burr shifts up and goes a little tighter on Hamilton's knot. Hamilton takes his cock in hand, and doesn't even have to coax it to hardness -- Burr is hard and desperate, and his cock weeps wet almost as much as his hole does. He is a mess.