Blake Ryder’s tattooed, muscular frame pins Nic Sahara down on rough concrete, his grip tight as he drives into him with rough, unrelenting thrusts. Nic’s dark hair falls forward, obscuring his face as Blake’s fingers dig into his hips, guiding the deep, relentless fucking that leaves no doubt about who’s in control. The air between them is thick with the sounds of wet slaps and ragged breaths, the only witnesses the distant hum of the city and the way Blake’s lips crash into Nic’s neck, marking him as his.
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