Silver Steele kneels behind Adrian Hart, his hands gripping the taller man’s broad shoulders as he presses deep into the muscle tissue with relentless pressure. The blond’s skin glistens under the light, his fingers digging into Adrian’s back while the other man lies still, only the faintest exhale betraying the tension in his neck. Every stroke is deliberate, no oil, no hesitation, just, unbroken contact as Steele’s knuckles trace the ridges of Hart’s arms, then glide down to the taut stretch of his thighs.
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