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Griffith leaned down to Gut`s ear. His breath was warm.

“You did well,” he repeated. His tongue touched Guts’ ear, so lightly it might have been an accident, and Guts came, grunting and gasping, lowering his head to rest it on Griffith’s shoulder as the spasms shook him. His come spurted into Griffith’s hand, which the other man then rubbed right back on his cock, and it felt almost too good.

When Guts next opened his eyes, Griffith was wiping his hand with something; it looked like a linen square. He stepped away from Guts, and as always, there was that enigmatic smile.

“I’ll see you outside, Commander,” he said, and swept out of the tent.

Guts glared after him for a few moments before folding himself to the ground, exhausted.