Yu Xi moaned, low in his throat, and gave in. The kiss deepened, turned filthy, a wet, open-mouthed clash of teeth and tongue. He could taste the metallic edge of psychic overload on Jian Ci's breath, and it only made him kiss harder, deeper, trying to swallow the storm.
Jian Ci's hands moved. One stayed locked on Yu Xi's hip, the other slid down, palm rough against the curve of Yu Xi's ass. Yu Xi felt the cool slickness of lubricant a second before Jian Ci's finger found that tight spot. He gasped into the kiss, his body jolting.
Jian Ci's finger circled that tight, furled muscle, the motion slow, deliberate and maddening. The lubricant made everything slippery, easy. The pad of his finger pressed, just a little, and Yu Xi's back bowed, a soft, muffled moan escaping into Jian Ci's mouth.
