Michael Keys pins Devin Adams in the ring, his tattooed arms locking around the smaller man’s waist as he drives forward, teeth sinking into the back of his neck. Devin’s clean-shaven jaw clenches against the grip, his own muscles straining to break free while Keys’ weight pins him flat. The air smells of sweat and leather as they wrestle, one hand gripping a fistful of shirt, the other slamming into the canvas. Their mouths crash together in a bruising kiss, teeth clashing as the fight turns into something else.
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