[ Hissing, gasping at the bites, he grit his teeth and tugged at Shiro's limbs, using his bodyweight to practically pounce the hollow backwards on the bed. Ichigo's heart was racing. His breath becoming heavier, and lowering his head to teeth an ear, then a neck, running his tongue over white skin. As he tugged at the ties of his own hakama-himo with one hand, and yanked at the hollow's pants with the other Shiro took him in hand with long, desperate strokes right through his pants! ]
Fuck, what do you think-- Hnnh nng!
[ Shuddering, he ground his hips back, finding an indent and sticking with it, Ichigo hitched his knees onto either side of pale hips. Bending down to tear off another harsh kiss from Shiro's lips, his tongue snaking urgently into the hot cavern of a mouth. He wanted Shiro to feel just as hard as he did, nipping a shoulder, already bucking, and soon both hands attacking the hollow's fly long enough to get it open -- but then abandoning it in favor of pulling at Shiro's t-shirt. ]
Just-- just don't stop!
[ The demand all came out in a rush. Desperately worked up, and wanting, wanting...
Just do it! Just hold onto me, let me feel you, let me strip yuou down, and feel you touch me, hurt me, fuck me until I can't stand it, and I'm--!
Gasping through another messy kiss, calloused palms slid up Shiro's stomach, spreading his fingers as far as he could to touch as much of that warm, white skin as he could. A rough grind of hips against his hollow made Ichigo moan, unbearably worked up. A rough grind of hips likely let Shiro feel the burn of anger-fueled desire, even through rumpled, half-stripped hakama. Enjoy it, Shiro, because he will deny ever behaving so wanton to his very last breath. ]
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Fuck, what do you think-- Hnnh nng!
[ Shuddering, he ground his hips back, finding an indent and sticking with it, Ichigo hitched his knees onto either side of pale hips. Bending down to tear off another harsh kiss from Shiro's lips, his tongue snaking urgently into the hot cavern of a mouth. He wanted Shiro to feel just as hard as he did, nipping a shoulder, already bucking, and soon both hands attacking the hollow's fly long enough to get it open -- but then abandoning it in favor of pulling at Shiro's t-shirt. ]
Just-- just don't stop!
[ The demand all came out in a rush. Desperately worked up, and wanting, wanting...
Just do it! Just hold onto me, let me feel you, let me strip yuou down, and feel you touch me, hurt me, fuck me until I can't stand it, and I'm--!
Gasping through another messy kiss, calloused palms slid up Shiro's stomach, spreading his fingers as far as he could to touch as much of that warm, white skin as he could. A rough grind of hips against his hollow made Ichigo moan, unbearably worked up. A rough grind of hips likely let Shiro feel the burn of anger-fueled desire, even through rumpled, half-stripped hakama.
Enjoy it, Shiro, because he will deny ever behaving so wanton to his very last breath. ]