[ koby props himself up on his elbows, changing the angle almost instantly of the way his cock presses inside the tight heat of him and he groans loudly, hand leaving his sopping cunt to grab at his hips, to hike him higher and harder back against him. it gives him enough leverage to lean hard over him, weight against his back, fingers yanking hard at his hair to keep himself balanced as his hips jackrabbit into a needy frenzy.

the sounds of their joining fill the room - wet and sloppy, skin on skin. quentin is so close to cumming himself but it takes a great deal of tightened muscles and will to keep from absolutely blowing it all when koby begins to prattle on and on about feeling his cock where he shouldn't like this.

but there's the disobedient little hand, sneaking down between them where his own was and he growls, leaning to bite hard at koby's shoulder. ]

I won't - you won't get what you - if you keep -

[ he's panting hard against his skin, hand sticky with koby's mess sliding back down and pushing between them, replacing koby's frantic fingers. his thrusts grind to a halt on a deep, throaty groan, his cock pulsing in a way that's begging to be released, but instead he lets koby suffer the consequences of his actions. grinds his hips slowly into him, head of his cock nudging hard against that little sweet spot, finding the shuddering, clenching walls of his cunt absolutely unbearable. ]

You want fingers so bad then?

[ he doesn't touch his clit, no. instead allows his long arm to hook over a hip, their bodies slick with sweat, and presses his fingers against koby's entrance, sliding his fingers to where his cock shifts and grinds into him and presses. just the tip of a finger, stretching him carefully, nothing more. ]

That what you're after, love? [ a hoarse laugh, his fingers giving a last little tug on his hair before leaving, using koby's body as his stabilizer, his newly freed hand reaching to circle his clit once, twice. ]

What was it you wanted?