Topher Dimaggio’s beard scrapes against Tayte Hanson’s jaw as he grips his shoulders, fingers digging into the smooth muscle while their mouths lock in a rough, open-mouthed kiss. Hanson tilts his head back, exposing his throat as Dimaggio’s tongue pushes past his lips, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Their hands move together, one pulling, one holding, until Hanson’s breath hitches, the only sound in the close-up.
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