[it's rewarding, at least. Cater's sounds are a balm, aiding those pheromones and further chasing any doubt. Cater wouldn't be able to see it but Leona's face tenses as he tries to keep himself from biting down too hard— but 'too' hard becomes more and more of an enigma as sensations begin to blur.
the roll of his hips as he presses in is slow but forceful, marked with intent. it doesn't matter that he's out here in his jeans, fucking a neon-clad Cater in the back alley. his body is demanding things be done and done right, and as far as his perception is concerned nothing exists outside of this moment, anyway.
when he is half-sheathed he finally relieves Cater of the pressure at his neck, licking at the divots left behind in this mindless grooming instinct, and starts to set a bit of a more merciful pace, pressing in and pulling back. as he acclimates, he'll be able to look at his prey again, watch him fall apart. watch him take all of that intent.]
no subject
the roll of his hips as he presses in is slow but forceful, marked with intent. it doesn't matter that he's out here in his jeans, fucking a neon-clad Cater in the back alley. his body is demanding things be done and done right, and as far as his perception is concerned nothing exists outside of this moment, anyway.
when he is half-sheathed he finally relieves Cater of the pressure at his neck, licking at the divots left behind in this mindless grooming instinct, and starts to set a bit of a more merciful pace, pressing in and pulling back. as he acclimates, he'll be able to look at his prey again, watch him fall apart. watch him take all of that intent.]