[ As always, Ichigo is loud - throughout the day, he's grown beyond the state of merely noticing to the point where just the sound of him moaning like that close to his ear actually makes him harder. He exhales shakily against his shoulder, thrusting up slowly into his grip, leaving the pacing to him, the rhythm. He can't focus on that as well, he'll admit - to no one, obviously, but the point stands. Eyes falling shut, he presses back against Ichigo's face, suppressing a smile at his words - a command, is it? It comes as no surprise at all that the man is bossy. He can feel the way Ichigo's cock is leaking all over his fingers, though, so he takes pity on him and pulls out partially, just enough to add another finger alongside the first. When he pushes in again, the stretch is wider but there's not much resistance yet, probably because Ichigo's so impatient for it, clearly enjoying what he's given.
It makes Byakuya satisfied, in turn. Knowing that he wants it so badly. He won't grant that particular thought too much attention, he knows too well where it leads but he finds calm in it, all the same. Allows himself that much.
Fucking Ichigo slowly but rhythmically with two fingers, pulling them apart a little on every third or fourth outstroke, he frees his other hand and runs it up his back, over muscled shoulders, the nape of his neck. He curls his fingers in Ichigo's hair, supporting him like that, keeping his own weight on the balls of his feet. Ichigo's taking some of it, regardless. You probably can't stop a man like that from trying to carry whatever he can of someone else, even when he's hanging off the cliff himself.
A pleasurable cliff, in this instance.
Wrist flicking back and forth against Ichigo's buttocks, fingers burrowing in deep inside him, he sets a faster pace, getting his prostate on every stroke in and out, letting him push back as he wishes in turn. His own climax, he thinks, is farther away and that's fine. He wants to feel Ichigo take that fall now, against him, when he's got him so well-supported, the scent of him strong and powerful in his nostrils. Groaning, a deep sound, not as loud as it could be because showing restraint is much more than just a habit, he twists into Ichigo's grip, keeping the stream of pleasure in his blood flowing steadily. ]
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It makes Byakuya satisfied, in turn. Knowing that he wants it so badly. He won't grant that particular thought too much attention, he knows too well where it leads but he finds calm in it, all the same. Allows himself that much.
Fucking Ichigo slowly but rhythmically with two fingers, pulling them apart a little on every third or fourth outstroke, he frees his other hand and runs it up his back, over muscled shoulders, the nape of his neck. He curls his fingers in Ichigo's hair, supporting him like that, keeping his own weight on the balls of his feet. Ichigo's taking some of it, regardless. You probably can't stop a man like that from trying to carry whatever he can of someone else, even when he's hanging off the cliff himself.
A pleasurable cliff, in this instance.
Wrist flicking back and forth against Ichigo's buttocks, fingers burrowing in deep inside him, he sets a faster pace, getting his prostate on every stroke in and out, letting him push back as he wishes in turn. His own climax, he thinks, is farther away and that's fine. He wants to feel Ichigo take that fall now, against him, when he's got him so well-supported, the scent of him strong and powerful in his nostrils. Groaning, a deep sound, not as loud as it could be because showing restraint is much more than just a habit, he twists into Ichigo's grip, keeping the stream of pleasure in his blood flowing steadily. ]