[ Ichigo may not be an excellent kisser, but knows by now what Shiro likes and makes every effort to tease him, tongues wrestling through a thick groan before his own retreats, barely nipping with blunt, human teeth here and there, sinking back into another deep kiss with already sticky lips.
Parting his legs, he pulls a pair of hips into place and furls both arms, and legs around Shiro almost desperately. Here, and real, and mine, mine, mine.
The rough stone floor didn't matter. The way Ichigo's conflicting emotions bled into the storm of his reiatsu, nothing. It's as if he can feel the empty ache in that lack of a heart next to his own, but that might just be Shiro's laden breathing. Outright clinging fiercely, he keeps the kiss alive with unexpected licks, a hand running up a spine to the nape of a neck to hold a handful of Shiro's hair firmly in place for an admirably thorough, if a little messy kiss. ]
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Parting his legs, he pulls a pair of hips into place and furls both arms, and legs around Shiro almost desperately. Here, and real, and mine, mine, mine.
The rough stone floor didn't matter. The way Ichigo's conflicting emotions bled into the storm of his reiatsu, nothing. It's as if he can feel the empty ache in that lack of a heart next to his own, but that might just be Shiro's laden breathing. Outright clinging fiercely, he keeps the kiss alive with unexpected licks, a hand running up a spine to the nape of a neck to hold a handful of Shiro's hair firmly in place for an admirably thorough, if a little messy kiss. ]