Every movement was deliberate, every sound filthier than the last. Xiang Yu could feel himself unraveling, the heat coiling tight in his gut as Han Xin swallowed him down again and again. "Oh fuck, ah ah ah … husband I am so close…"
"You fucking—" Xiang Yu's words dissolved into incoherent groans as he thrust up into Han Xin's mouth, losing himself in the rhythm. His entire body trembled, muscles taut as a bowstring, teetering on the edge of release. "I am ah shit— Fuck, Xin-ge—"
With a final, desperate thrust, Xiang Yu came hard, his cock pulsing as he spilled himself down Han Xin's throat. Han Xin swallowed greedily, his lips still wrapped tightly around him, milking every last drop until Xiang Yu was shaking and spent.
