His body rolls with his rhythm, the ugliness of the day fading behind the primal urge to push and please, to lose himself into the rush of heat and pleasure. Rough palms slide down Ganymede's thighs, thumb tucking under his balls to collect them for a half second before they're let go, palm moving over that hard cock and up his stomach and chest, fingers coming around to pinch one nipple.

They weren't going to stay like this - Raylan wanted his lover to ride him as he cummed, but the Marshal had the stamina of a man twenty years younger.