Ezra's eyes were closed now. Mostly, anyway. He wasn't seeing much, was the point. He was letting himself get lost in the sensation.

Lost enough that that it almost took him by surprise once the last of his control finally snapped. One last urgent thrust – deeper, more wetness, more everything – and he was coming with a deep growl he wasn't really even aware of. The same with his fingers, grasping Dante's hair and the back of his head so tightly, as if there was any real danger of him pulling away too soon from this.