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Summary
Not all love is gentle. Sometimes it’s gritty, dirty and possessive. Sometimes it’s not supposed to be careful or soft at all. Sometimes it feels like teeth.
Iwaizumi stared at the lean, cowering figure beneath him. Smooth alabaster skin begging to be blemished. Tainted. Defiled. Wandering digits scraped across the wide expanse of supple flesh. Firm legs that went on for days. He rested calloused palms against sinewy limbs. Felt the contrast. Groaned.
Blunt nails dug into the unblemished canvas. Watched as red crescents formed. A throaty growl of appreciation left parted lips. His grip tightened. The body beneath convulsed. Contorted. Waves of pleasure- tension, rippled through the lithe frame.“Hajime.”