The warmth spilling inside of him was one thing. The look on the other's face, quite another. Poe was gone, thrusting so hard into him, and Finn lost it for the second time.

He doubled over, embedding a silent scream in Poe's shoulder as he painted them both again. The vines seemed to be on double duty, wiping it away as fast as it appeared. Other than the laving across their bodies, Finn was none the wiser to anything else happening in the world other than Poe. His orgasm crashed over him in waves, spiking every time Poe pounded into that sweet spot again. The sensitivity and intensity were too perfect of a combination of pain and pleasure. Tears began to come to his eyes, but his nails scraped against Poe's neck and back, wanting it to last as long as it could.