Silas Rise and Peter Polloc

Silas Rise grips Peter Polloc’s wrists in leather cuffs, his own broad shoulders straining against the rough wood of the restraints as Polloc’s tongue traces the seam of his lips. The blond’s fingers dig into Polloc’s thighs, pulling him closer until his hole stretches around Silas’s thick fingers, slick with need. Strapped to the chair, Polloc arches his back, his breath ragged as Silas’s mouth seals over his cock, swallowing deep before pulling back with a wet pop. The industrial hum of the setting fades into the sound of skin slapping against leather.