[ Hank growls an affirmative, primal and deep and content. Mate, he says. Gavin tastes like his mate. He can taste and feel every part of him like it's his own, like they belong together. He can feel just how much Gavin loves him, how deeply his admiration goes and that's the thing that gets him to shudder. It's hard to describe how he could possible taste it in Gavin's blood, but he knows. Fuck, it's so raw and clear Hank could choke on it.
He won't. Anything his mate gives him, he can take it. Hank sucks deep on the wound and pulls him closer, pulling away to breathe and gasp through the overwhelming rush of sensation. ]
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He won't. Anything his mate gives him, he can take it. Hank sucks deep on the wound and pulls him closer, pulling away to breathe and gasp through the overwhelming rush of sensation. ]
Mine.