Mike Maverick grips Javier Cruz’s hips while his tongue plunges deep into his mouth, fingers digging into the sleeveless shirt’s fabric as the other man arches into the touch. Javier’s muscles ripple under the bare skin, his breath ragged as Maverick’s grip tightens, pulling him closer for another hard kiss. The shirt rides up just enough to expose the taut lines of his back, but it’s Maverick’s hands, calloused, relentless, that keep the focus where it belongs.
More galleries
