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Summary
Clicking his tongue, Charles yanks at the fistful of hair in his hand.
“Focus, chéri,” he drawls, condescension dripping from his tone even as heat rushes through his veins. “You’ll never get to come if you behave like this, now, will you?”
or, charles’ very concerted, very indulgent and very consensual effort to ruin max a teensy bit
Series
- Part 15 of formula 1 fortnights (fic collection)
