The tattooed, broad-shouldered man grips Lane’s hips while he kneels, his knuckles flexing as he drives into him hard enough to make the grass tremble. Lane’s dark hair falls forward, obscuring his face as he braces against the bearded man’s chest, their bodies angled toward the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. The air smells of damp earth and sweat, thick between them as the first slow thrusts dig deep.
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