If Snake had any idea how few could actually satisfy Tiras, he’d be incredibly flattered. Flabbergasted, even, that he was able to be one of those few. As it stands, he doesn’t know about the incubus to even consider that sex might not be an incredibly pleasurable pursuit for him each and every time (but oh, he’ll learn if… when they spend more time together – not that he expected any such thing. Snake often meets creatures he spends a day or a night with and never saw again).

He continued to snap his hips, driving himself hard and deep with each thrust. Every move pulled some sound from him, a sharp gasp, a deep moan, something breathless. It felt so damn good, like nothing he’s ever experienced before (and, again, Snake’s no stranger to sex). Everything about Tiras just leeched the pleasure out of wherever it slept. Not just the way he squeezed Snake’s cock so perfectly, but the way the color rested on his fast, how his kiss-bruised lips remained parted, his lidded eyes.

Snake wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer, himself. So he shifted slightly to adjust the angle, all but battering Tiras’ prostate with each stroke. Oh, how he wanted to feel Tiras cum. He wanted to feel that already too-tight channel constrict and spasm around his dick, milking his own orgasm from him in the process.

He swooped down for one last, desperate kiss, then panted against those plush lips, “Cum for me…”