Dorian's toes curled as Bull picked up his pace, sliding in and out, brushing that spot time and time again. It wasn't quite the angle that would send him over the edge, not yet, but it was enough to send him into a blissful, panting mantra, full of sweet little noises and trembling thighs, trembling hands.

His lips tumbled out strings of creative curses in Tevene, one linked after the other like obscene poetry.