Yeah. That was right.

Dante's own eyes slid shut this time as he tried to focus on nothing but the rhythm of Ezra's thrusts, pressing his tongue up against him on his way in. Humming in the back of his throat, his fingers moving over Ezra's balls, then back. Just messing around, drawing circles around his hole, then way on back.

If his touches were firmer and more deliberate every time Ezra moved a little quicker or a little rougher, well, fuck, what did you want him to say?