A stream of raging, reason-stealing need washed through Randy’s blood and he slammed the back of his head into the cushions of the couch. “You…fuck…”
As if Vaughn felt the sensation at the same time, Vaughn growled, leaned forward, and rested his forehead on Randy’s stomach. He lay there and panted hot butterflies of breath on Randy’s abdomen, while his fingertips continued to twist, swipe, and tease the head of Randy’s cock. A little voice flared in Randy’s head: Not just touching. Not just tasting. He’s breathing me in.
It was a thought that made the mad desperation in his body that much stronger. “Vaughn…”