Pierce Paris leans against the wall, his red-shirted chest flexing as he grips Theo Brady’s hips, fingers digging into the smooth muscle of his back while Theo braces himself, dark hair catching the light. The blond’s hole glistens under Pierce’s grip, already stretched open as he guides himself in, the first thick thrust driving deep with a sharp, controlled force. Theo’s breath hitches, his body locked in place as Pierce takes him hard, the red text on his shirt barely visible through the sweat glistening on his skin.
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