Hector De Silva, broad-shouldered and inked, pins Ehrik Ortega, clean-shaven, taut-muscled, against the couch with a grip that leaves no doubt who’s in charge. The tie loosens as his mouth seals over Ehrik’s hole, fingers probing deep while the other man arches into it, asshole stretched open. Later, on the bed, Hector drives into him hard, the suit discarded now, just the weight of his body and the wet, relentless thrusts that make Ehrik’s breath come in sharp gasps.
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