Zichen slips in a third finger and rubs Xue Yang's prostate purposefully. Insistently. He draws his husband into a deep kiss and groans against his lips.
Xue Yang lets out a breathy cry, his cock twitching against his stomach. "F-Fuck, Zichen..." he whimpers as he knots his legs tightly around his husband's middle. "Yes, always..."
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"Are you ready for me, love?"
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"Oh A-Yang..." he groans and shudders to his core.
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