[Arthur moans likes it's hard to keep his teeth from clamping down, kissing where he's left light pink marks on Eames' skin with his teeth. He's moving his hips with as much force as he can manage at this angle, still bracing himself against the wall and holding Eames up with one arm around his waist. It feels good but he's already preparing to lock his knees when the time comes so that they don't just tumble to the ground.]
no subject