Weps holds Clay tight, gasping at the gripping heat of his body as he moves in a seemingly unhurried rhythm, pulling out slow and sliding in deep. "So good," he whispers, "so good." He wants this to last, but he knows it's impossible - the tactile sensations of all that skin moving against all that skin have him whimpering in pleasure and he sucks gently on Clay's shoulder. Weps can feel the groans vibrating in Clay's throat as his mouth moves over the damp, salty skin. He grips Clay's chin, turning his face so he can kiss him.