"I assure you, I am all yours," Nathaniel purrs, carefully lifting Anders' hips from the ground. The angle is the key; to thrust down into his body makes it easy to hit the prostate. He slides in, hissing at the contrast of the chill air outside with the searing heat inside. He groans.

"Maker's breath. You've quite spoiled me for anyone else." His hips move, beginning the rhythm they need.