His gasps fill the air, punctuated by ragged groans, as his nails scratch slowly down Lan Zhan's back. It really has been too long. Between Lan Zhan's thrusts and his stroking hand, Wei Ying's ratcheting toward and over that edge much sooner than tends to be typical for him.

"Lan Zhan," he moans as he comes.

So much for drawing this union out and savoring it.