“Suck me.”
Groves hears the words resonating in his mind, eyes not leaving the obvious bulge in Beckett’s breeches. The words are never spoken out loud, they are merely heat in icy grey eyes, but Groves knows a command when he sees one.
Getting on his knees is the hard bit, not the hard weight in his hand or warm skin under his tongue.
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Brava! Brava!
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Love it! I don't think I've ever read a Groves/Beckett story (if I have I don't remember it...) and this is amazing. ^_^
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This is a very interesting pairing! -claps-
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