Pain was almost a special ingredient at this point. It was something they were so used to that when it was given in a way that wasn't meant to actually harm--it was quite pleasant.

Kells nails clawed at his back and he arched into them, his pace switching to something harder, desperate. But it was the teeth and the vibrations of a moan that had his insides turning into butterflies.

Holland was the definition of control, and yet he felt like he had absolutely none in that moment. A hot coil in his gut snapped and he moaned, barely catching himself by a bitten lip as his body surged, spilling deep inside of its younger counterpart. reveling in the tight clenching of muscle.