“You want me to fuck you?” His voice is ragged. I can feel his twitching indecision in the movements of his fingers through my hair, torn between the need to hold me close and the need to be inside another part of me. That makes him grunt, the hard planes of his belly tensing. Hot and hard, too much for me to take into my throat without gagging a little over his length. “Like that.” He feels so good in my mouth. “Fuck.” He shudders, the word hardly a shaping of his heavy breath. Once I take him in my mouth he twists his fingers in my hair, the hold burning as I tilt my face to see the drop of his head, his eyes closed, his mouth parted to an O. “I want to feel your tongue on my cock.” He isn’t gentle. For a moment he looks down at me, flushed and open mouthed. “Chase grunts at that, shoving himself up and away.
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