There definitely are sounds around them, the lapping of the water against the hull, the birds outside, people talking, walking, working... And yet all Rook hears are those soft, desperate cries that Ulysse lets out. They fill his ear like honey, thick and arousing.

This is definitely not going to be the last time. If it's up to him, Rook will be back for this, frequently.

His fingers cramp, his legs shake, but he doesn't care, as long as his dick isn't giving up too soon, he's good.

After five full minutes of fast and hard, he slams against Ulysse's back, deep inside him, and stays there, panting against his neck as he holds still for a moment, drawing himself back from the edge.

There are no words, but enough is said in the way his arm wraps around Ulysse's chest and pulls him up, flush against Rook's chest. His other hand wraps around the cock bobbing eagerly between Ulysse's legs, curving happily towards his stomach. The thrusts are slower now, sweat sliding between them, Rook's mouth breathing mist on Ulysse's jaw and cheek while he pumps that cock in time of his hip surging forward. After just a brief moment, that hand from lean chest rises up to wrap around Ulysse's throat, lightly so, and then it travels up to cup the man's jaw, turning his face towards Rook. But instead of a kiss, he gets a thumb pressed in between his lips, rubbing possessively over his tongue and lips.