[ It's already good. It cuts deep, touches like raw nerves, and when York sinks deep inside it's just tying all those nerves together, linking that sense of too-much until it makes sense, feels right, feels like the only possible answer to a question he'd long since forgotten.
What would get him to beg? To scream?
He isn't still, rocking slightly on his knees as though trying to push back onto his fingers, to draw him in deeper. He just needs to feel more, nothing else is coming through and he feels so...
There's a freedom to this. There's no hesitation, no restraint, no worry. Just pursuit of this, and York there at his side to push him further. To give him what he needs. ]
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What would get him to beg? To scream?
He isn't still, rocking slightly on his knees as though trying to push back onto his fingers, to draw him in deeper. He just needs to feel more, nothing else is coming through and he feels so...
There's a freedom to this. There's no hesitation, no restraint, no worry. Just pursuit of this, and York there at his side to push him further. To give him what he needs. ]