[ graves teaches him, patient and teasing, gently angling his head to show him how to kiss, soft murmuring under his breath to praise, to enjoy the innocence of his inexperience, the sweetness of his lips on his. he is wanted, adored -- and how can this be sin when it feels so good? graves is fascinated by his every reaction, how he manages to draw out the sweetest sounds, the most endearing expressions.
he gently pats his ass when credence gestures to the pants, and he kisses his forehead, still so painfully hard that it's very nearly driving him to distraction. credence is shy and graves half-suspects that he already knows what it's for; it's written all over that lovely pale face. ]
Get it for me. [ a gentle order, but an order nonetheless. ] Do you know what I want to do with you, Credence? You inspire in me the most sinful things.
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he gently pats his ass when credence gestures to the pants, and he kisses his forehead, still so painfully hard that it's very nearly driving him to distraction. credence is shy and graves half-suspects that he already knows what it's for; it's written all over that lovely pale face. ]
Get it for me. [ a gentle order, but an order nonetheless. ] Do you know what I want to do with you, Credence? You inspire in me the most sinful things.