Sorahiko seems to struggle with the instruction much to the amusement of Miyamura— it’s almost like his rational mind is battling for dominance over his heat-addled mind.
“I can’t do anything if you don’t take them off Sora”. Miyamura replies, releasing his grip on the jacket and lazily watching Sorahiko.
He relaxes against the headboard and watches the omega with a half-lidded gaze filled with barely concealed hunger.
Sorahiko’s hesitation barely lasts a minute.
He leans forward, placing his head on Miyamura’s chest— bending over, ass in the air, and yanks off his underwear.
The sight has Miyamura’s c**k twitching. He barely has any time to inhale or gather his thoughts before Sorahiko sits himself on his thigh and raises his head to lick at the scent glands on his neck.
“Ahhh f
