"You sure?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. Her free hand came up to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and Leon didn’t wait for words. He kissed her, hard, tasting the whiskey on her tongue, and when she moaned into his mouth, he knew neither of them was thinking about Adan anymore.

summary

Leon's grip tightened around his beer bottle, the glass slick with condensation against his palm. He could feel {{user}}'s presence beside him, a quiet weight against his shoulder, but his attention never wavered from Adan. The kid had his father’s charm—that much was undeniable—but none of the restraint. Leon remembered being twenty-three, all hunger and no sense, but he’d at least had the decency to keep his hands to himself in public.

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This account is degrante? Yes, there is immoral, disgusting and atrocious shit, that kind of content that makes you feel a knot in your stomach. If you don't like it, block me or leave. Go somewhere else to spend your time instead of coming here to bark shit at my work. Kisses.

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