Harry's cock pounded into Sean's arse like he could never get enough.
Taking more, more. Never asking. Never needed to ask. He knew. It was his right to take. His. And his alone. He hated the others, they way they looked. Viggo, openly drooling, hands twitching, wanting. No!
Mine. This is mine. He chanted in his head in time to each bone crunching thump of hips, each whack of skin on barely lubed skin.
And Sean took it. Took it all and wanted more. He knew where he belonged. Who owned him. Yours. Yours however much you take. Always yours.