Tipping his head back to bare the flush that's crept up far past his neck, Peter's attempt to grit his teeth and bare every inch of this is lost to another all-encompassing groan, the sound an obvious admittance of just how wild the ache is driving him. Though he's near oblivious to it, Peter is thankful for Adam's hand in his, for the tight grip he's replying to the other man's with, refusing to let go of the hold now that he has it.
But that's to say that Peter cares about anything past the hideously slow crawl of Adam's hips. It's perfect torture in the form of absolution and Peter can't get enough, doesn't want it to end. He wouldn't have this any other way, though it's intoxicating, rendering Peter useless on all fronts that have nothing to do with keeping Adam exactly where he is, as deep as he'll go and even then some. The most Peter can give is the attempt to shift his hips, curling upward and nearly pulling his knee up against his chest. Anything, he'll do anything to sacrifice every centimeter for Adam's ownership.
Now that every hint of pain's been replaced, a dearly departed memory, Peter's fighting with the edge, beating it back with fingers twisting into the sheets at his back. If he could put his own body on pause he'd do it since there's no way he'd tell Adam to wait a minute, that he needs this to last for another eternity at least. If there's one thing truly cruel about this, is that it has to come to an end and Peter refuses to see it yet, won't look, and he's scrambling to keep himself contained even though there's no dying the coiling of heat in his veins.
No matter the pull in his muscles, Peter's gaze locks back onto Adam's and he's lost, the other man's name dropping from his lips before he can stop it. The word's even begun to taste like him and it makes Peter dizzy, needing to close his eyes so he can hold on to everything he can before the inevitable.
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But that's to say that Peter cares about anything past the hideously slow crawl of Adam's hips. It's perfect torture in the form of absolution and Peter can't get enough, doesn't want it to end. He wouldn't have this any other way, though it's intoxicating, rendering Peter useless on all fronts that have nothing to do with keeping Adam exactly where he is, as deep as he'll go and even then some. The most Peter can give is the attempt to shift his hips, curling upward and nearly pulling his knee up against his chest. Anything, he'll do anything to sacrifice every centimeter for Adam's ownership.
Now that every hint of pain's been replaced, a dearly departed memory, Peter's fighting with the edge, beating it back with fingers twisting into the sheets at his back. If he could put his own body on pause he'd do it since there's no way he'd tell Adam to wait a minute, that he needs this to last for another eternity at least. If there's one thing truly cruel about this, is that it has to come to an end and Peter refuses to see it yet, won't look, and he's scrambling to keep himself contained even though there's no dying the coiling of heat in his veins.
No matter the pull in his muscles, Peter's gaze locks back onto Adam's and he's lost, the other man's name dropping from his lips before he can stop it. The word's even begun to taste like him and it makes Peter dizzy, needing to close his eyes so he can hold on to everything he can before the inevitable.