[Harsh is fine. Harsh is good. Honestly, he loves it, the those hard, deep thrusts that spread him open and stimulate sensitive nerve endings in such a satisfying way. For all his sweetness, Scott is going for it, and Shang Qinghua is practically floating with delight. It's probably obvious. His mouth barely stops moving as long as it's unoccupied, murmuring praise and moaning his enjoyment openly.
Even if he had some shame, he wouldn't care if anybody heard them. Let them, he's having a fucking good time.
His hair comes out of the increasingly-messy bun it's been tied in when Scott releases his ribbon, which, frankly, is barely hanging on anyway. It's long, would probably reach his waist since he's never actually cut it, fanning in deep chestnut waves over the mattress.
Shang Qinghua huffs a laugh, but it sounds more like a pant as he rocks into those thrusts, just as enthusiastic.] You better not- Ah, fuck, yes-! [He cuts himself off with a curse when a particularly good thrust puts pressure on his prostate, makes him arch up into Scott and moan.]
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Even if he had some shame, he wouldn't care if anybody heard them. Let them, he's having a fucking good time.
His hair comes out of the increasingly-messy bun it's been tied in when Scott releases his ribbon, which, frankly, is barely hanging on anyway. It's long, would probably reach his waist since he's never actually cut it, fanning in deep chestnut waves over the mattress.
Shang Qinghua huffs a laugh, but it sounds more like a pant as he rocks into those thrusts, just as enthusiastic.] You better not- Ah, fuck, yes-! [He cuts himself off with a curse when a particularly good thrust puts pressure on his prostate, makes him arch up into Scott and moan.]