Krem groaned ascent, grabbing at the nape of Chris's neck to ground himself as much as it was to keep Chris close to him. The deep rumble of his voice, the warmth and weight of his thighs and the obvious size of him pressed up against him, those fingers working with that slow deliberation--it was all taking him apart again. The slowness was good, dragging it out, making it a wonderful sort of agony.

He squirmed his legs a little, bringing them together for a moment and then spreading them again, a lazy sprawl a pleasure as he panted and whined softly.