[ he's not surprised when graves changes his focus but his body jerks slightly anyway, a tiny whine hidden behind his hand. he feels like his head is swimming in the pleasure he feels and he can't help but lift himself up enough to watch him unblinkingly. the sight of him alone is almost as good as the sensation itself and instead of gripping so tightly his fingers smooth through dark hair, nails barely scraping his scalp. with his hips held down it isn't as though he can do much more but his upper body twists, breath catching over and over between moans.
his mind's almost a blank from the sheer pleasure of it, toes pressing down and curling into the sheets.
credence feels so overstimulated, unused to any of this - the next time he says anything he's dropped his hand from his mouth to grip at the sheets that way as well and he just gasps out an oh god, mister graves that almost sounds like a prayer. he's close, but more importantly it seems he's found someone far more tangible to pray to. ]
no subject
his mind's almost a blank from the sheer pleasure of it, toes pressing down and curling into the sheets.
credence feels so overstimulated, unused to any of this - the next time he says anything he's dropped his hand from his mouth to grip at the sheets that way as well and he just gasps out an oh god, mister graves that almost sounds like a prayer. he's close, but more importantly it seems he's found someone far more tangible to pray to. ]