[ All but fucked-out he moans and gives a nod, cupping Chris's jaw to guide him into a deep, lazy kiss to match the canting of Loki's needy cock. He looks half-sleepy with pleasure, no longer the sharp, witty, well-put-together man from the market who brightly lit up the street and got away with a freebie for his troubles. The blue bracelet glints on his wrist like a collar or a ribbon from an exclusive event (the very best kind) and he doesn't bother hiding his moans as he cleaves to Chris in their bed, hair a nest and eyes dilated. ]
Yes, yes, touch me ...
[ No nails rake across Chris's shoulders this time, the petting of a hand down his slick chest is all Loki has the energy for, whimpering in his thrall. That's how it feels, needing him so desperately. ]
I can't last, Chris, kiss me.
[ In case it wasn't clear that he likes that best. ]
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Yes, yes, touch me ...
[ No nails rake across Chris's shoulders this time, the petting of a hand down his slick chest is all Loki has the energy for, whimpering in his thrall. That's how it feels, needing him so desperately. ]
I can't last, Chris, kiss me.
[ In case it wasn't clear that he likes that best. ]