Jack Griffin grips Tucker Vaughn’s waist as their chests press together, fingers digging into smooth, muscular skin while their mouths crash in a deep, open kiss. The blond’s grip tightens around the other’s hips, pulling him flush against the hard press of his body, hands sliding over taut abs without pause. No space between them, just the, unbroken hold of one man dominating the embrace, his breath hot against Vaughn’s neck as their bodies lock in a single, relentless motion.
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