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'I-I 'm really 'damn.

Damn.

' Just about

all

that he can gasp. Toji 's prominent Adam 's apple bobs at the sheer tremors lacing his baritone voice, on the edge of shattering into a million pieces. He 's dragging a fat thumb where your teary slit was

bulging. In awe. 'Damn. '

And your honeyed giggles are enough to make him buck his rummaging length with a shuddering

groan.

Pumping you full of more solid, mindless inches. 'S 'that all you can

hah-

say, Toji? '

Hell, if Toji Fushiguro could coherently speak - if he could even

think

- then he 'd already be waxing poetic about how your that sweltering hot heaven between your legs was driving him

mad.

Was having his life flashing before his very eyes-