This was much more preferred, he had expected a smack, a hit, a punch, even some verbal sparring, but he had hoped all in the end this would be where they would end up. He was glad he was right, and even more so that it did not take nearly as long as he had originally planned. Which was why he gladly moved his hands to pull back at his shirt, a flurry of motion to get the pressed shirt off his tensing arms and off his back to be thrown absently to the floor. He tilted his neck and let out a throaty grown with the touch of lips and a rough chin.
Eros had no intention of moving from the pinned position he had placed Psyche in and instead moved one arm, bent elbow, to rest next to her head as the other made its own trail down his body to work on the snap this time with intent to finish.
With a flick and twist of his thumb and finger it was undone and an easy jerk to slide down the zipper because as magnificent as the marks across his skin were, he needed more. He needed the weight of Tobias' in his hand because adolescent groans and fantasy's over a mobile were not enough to sate him.