Some younger, less experienced men tended to hear that kind of endorsement and do something stupid like doing something different. Raylan knew better. He kept his exact pace, his exact angle, thoroughly enjoying the fact that Tim has to brace himself on the headboard against the assault and the way his tensing gripped Raylan's length like a soft vice. Gone were the husky words of last night - Raylan was more chatty when he was buzzed than not - replaced by that focused attention that got Raylan more trouble than he asks for outside.

His breath stays hot and ragged on Tim's neck, nipping kisses moving across his collarbone, hand wrapped around Tim's shoulder helping to pull his weight down. The cry of his name makes his stomach twist with desire even as they were swimming in pleasure, making him drive harder like he had something to prove. And maybe he did - some part of his male pride demanded he performed well in bed, to ensure that his lovers ranked him high, wanted him back for seconds or thirds. And it was Tim. Raylan was sure he was stacking up against a lot of one night stands and wild nights the like he himself hadn't seen in two decades.

He wonders too, briefly, if he'll be able to make Tim cum with nothing other than this - nothing other than Raylan slamming into that magic spot and filling him. He did fit perfectly inside the sniper in a way he would avoid looking too deeply at later.