"You do realize you're not convincing when you're a breath away from whimpering, right?"
Oh, Evan. Now who's being a little shit?
If he's perfectly honest with himself, he loves – loves – being able to have the other man like this. Spread out and wanting without much more than a few well-placed touches, kisses over warm skin that have that lean, lithe body spreading out beneath him in a way that makes him want to take his time with it. Draw everything out, get him begging, pleading downright obscenely for what he wants from him.
But he won't do it now. Later, maybe.
He laughs quietly against the cover of tanned skin, nipping at a hipbone and yet wasting no more time in getting to the point; his tongue sweeps languidly over the length of York's cock, salt and bittersweet at war with one another and yet blending beautifully in a taste that is uniquely York. He traces the ridge at the head, dips into the slit as his lips close around it, moans his appreciation as he slides down. Takes him in.
He won't respond, at least not right away. Not until he's taken his cock into his mouth as far as he can, hands steady on his hips to keep him from bucking upward. "A mouth like that is going to get you in trouble, sweetheart," he ultimately ends up breathing against the inside of a thigh, pausing just long enough to set his teeth against an unmarked patch of skin and bite down, hard.
"Maybe I should stop .." Another bite to the opposite side, and he sucks at the skin between his teeth until a bright, beautiful bruise is raised, deeply possessive.
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Oh, Evan. Now who's being a little shit?
If he's perfectly honest with himself, he loves – loves – being able to have the other man like this. Spread out and wanting without much more than a few well-placed touches, kisses over warm skin that have that lean, lithe body spreading out beneath him in a way that makes him want to take his time with it. Draw everything out, get him begging, pleading downright obscenely for what he wants from him.
But he won't do it now. Later, maybe.
He laughs quietly against the cover of tanned skin, nipping at a hipbone and yet wasting no more time in getting to the point; his tongue sweeps languidly over the length of York's cock, salt and bittersweet at war with one another and yet blending beautifully in a taste that is uniquely York. He traces the ridge at the head, dips into the slit as his lips close around it, moans his appreciation as he slides down. Takes him in.
He won't respond, at least not right away. Not until he's taken his cock into his mouth as far as he can, hands steady on his hips to keep him from bucking upward. "A mouth like that is going to get you in trouble, sweetheart," he ultimately ends up breathing against the inside of a thigh, pausing just long enough to set his teeth against an unmarked patch of skin and bite down, hard.
"Maybe I should stop .." Another bite to the opposite side, and he sucks at the skin between his teeth until a bright, beautiful bruise is raised, deeply possessive.