Dean Dallas grips Andrew Connor’s shoulders as he pulls his head down for a rough kiss, his beard scraping against the other man’s jaw while his tattooed arms flex around him. The third man, stocky and smooth-skinned with dark hair, watches from the bed, his fingers already tracing the crease of Connor’s ass before he drops to his knees behind him. No vests remain, just bare skin, the patterned cover discarded as Dallas pins Connor’s wrists above his head and takes him from behind.
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