[Tate strips - and then he strips, kicking off every scrap of clothing on him before lounging for a moment on his side. Derek's watching him with that alluring sense of dominance that Tate knows this city can't pull away from him. He strokes his cock for a moment before he decides to follow the next instruction, rolling onto his back with his cock rigid and his blond hair falling to rest in a crown around his head against the dark sheets. He settles back into the bed, then pushes himself a little closer toward the headboard by digging his heels into the mattress.]
Like this?
[He stretches out, squirming to put his arms out toward the corners of the bed before wriggling his fingers. There's something in his eyes that's playful despite his supposed bend to submission, but that's not new. Neither is the heated flush of color up his chest and across the bridge of his nose.]
no subject
Like this?
[He stretches out, squirming to put his arms out toward the corners of the bed before wriggling his fingers. There's something in his eyes that's playful despite his supposed bend to submission, but that's not new. Neither is the heated flush of color up his chest and across the bridge of his nose.]