Oliver Marks leans against a tree, his smooth, muscular chest bare, one hand resting on his hip as Damian Night kneels behind him, tongue already tracing the tight ring of his asshole. The blond’s grin fades into a sharp exhale as Damian’s fingers stretch him open, then press inside, rough, deliberate, before the first slow thrust of his cock splits them apart. Sunlight filters through the leaves, catching the sweat glistening on Marks’ back as Night grips his hips, driving deeper with each breathless gasp.
