Alexis Scott’s pinkish hair frames a face pressed into Axel Blaise’s neck while his fingers dig into the slim, smooth skin of his asshole, the couch’s edge biting into his hips as Blaise kneels behind him. Blaise’s blue-and-pink hair hangs loose as he guides Alexis onto his lap, gripping his waist tight before driving into him with slow, deliberate strokes. The couch’s leather creaks under Alexis’s weight as he leans back, lips locked onto Blaise’s throat, fingers tangled in his hair.
