Pierre Fitch grips Duncan Black’s hips while his tattooed chest presses into the rough stone, fingers digging into the muscle of his thighs as they kiss with rough, open mouths. Black arches into the touch, his dark hair falling forward as Fitch’s grip tightens, pulling him closer against the jagged rocks. The only sound is the rasp of skin on stone, the way Black’s breath hitches when Fitch’s hand slides lower, fingers tracing the curve of his ass before gripping hard.
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