Chapter Text
Louis leaned forward, intently focused on the beautiful picture of LaBarge trapping his struggling prey against the wall by hoisting him up and thrusting in, eliciting a pained groan from the Musketeer.
Desperate fingers clawed dark red welts into LaBarge's back, matched by the thin rivulets of blood running over pale, shivering skin and Louis licked his lips, relishing how each powerful thrust echoed through his own body. Watching someone being taken against their will was even more arousing than he had imagined.
He really had to thank Richelieu for giving him the chance to indulge in this particular fantasy.