Connor Maguire’s hands grip leather straps as Micah Brandt kneels, his hole stretched open by Connor’s tongue and fingers, no hesitation, just the rough pull of ropes and the wet, deliberate pressure of a rim job. The dark-haired, hairy-chested man arches into the touch, his breath ragged as Connor holds the ropes taut, fingers probing deep before pulling back to lick the slickness from his asshole. The restraints bite into his wrists, but his lips crash into Connor’s, hungry and unguarded, as the dominant grip tightens around his throat.
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