Oh dearGod. Steel eyes squeezed shut as he chewed on his lower lip. He was practically shaking already, as eager as he could be and not even attempting to hide it. “It’s been too damn long.” Daemon muttered, hips moving against Chronos’ in return.
Hands tugged at the fabric of the hunter’s shirt, tugging it up. The cyborg wanted the offending material gone, wanted to be able to move his bands over Chronos’ chest once more without having to bother with his shirt. He hadn’t even realized howimpossiblydeprived he’d been until the physical contact had begun.
He couldn’t even bring himself to show some semblance of shame at this point, he just wanted Chronos.
A dragged out breath and Chronos was helping him with the removal of his shirt, not even paying any mind to his sprain now because he just wanted to fuck Daemon as much as he obviously wanted it. Fuck his physical aching at this point.
With his shirt tossed aside, Chronos’ tugged roughly at Daemon’s pants. Silently commanding that he remove them, the order being seen in his eyes. “Just how badly do you want it, my cute little Daemon?” He couldn’t stop the melodic tone, his eyebrows raising as he expected an amusing answer. The answer was obvious, Chronos figuring it to just start undoing his own pants. But he needed to hear him say it for himself.