[ Instead of that sharp pull, there's now only an ache, warm and throbbing, that immediately seizes hold. Locus keens sharply, one hand flying back to grasp for York, hips still working back against him in stuttering thrusts. ]
Hurts....good. Need to...
[ The words can't string together, he knows there's something he's meant to say, but all he can do is writhe. Moan. Cant back in the hopes he understands, can give him what he's after. York will take care of him. That's all he needs to know. ]
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Hurts....good. Need to...
[ The words can't string together, he knows there's something he's meant to say, but all he can do is writhe. Moan. Cant back in the hopes he understands, can give him what he's after. York will take care of him. That's all he needs to know. ]
Need, I need to...