Mostly, he let Laurence set the pace and do the work, at least at first. More than anything, he didn't want to hurry him. His hand rested lightly on Laurence's bare shoulder, thumb stroking against his skin. His hips rocked, but barely.
"That's it," he said, eyelashes fluttering. "That's perfect."
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"That's it," he said, eyelashes fluttering. "That's perfect."