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How they end up in these situations is something Sean has yet to figure out. This is insanity; apron strings tied around his wrists, the angle at which he's bent over the countertop—what the fuck are they doing and did Elijah plan this? There's a very erotic quality to that small body behind him, fingers doing incredible things at a frenetic pace. Deep down, he loves when Elijah gets like this. There is a distinct tug at the apron strings. They bite into Sean's wrist and he clenches his jaw. "Okay?" Elijah breathes, lightly thrusting, and Sean exhales, "Yeah." |