Previous chapter:
Chapter 36: R18(3)
Next chapter:
Chapter 38: The convention(1)
PREVIEW
...
His mind, wiped clean of anything but sensation, circled one thought, one image, on a relentless loop: dick, dick, dick. Ansel’s dick.
The thick, heavy weight of it against his tongue. The taste, fuck, the taste of him, salty and bitter and perfect, still coating the back of his throat.
His own cock lay soft and spent on his thigh, but a deeper, more insistent hunger had taken root.
He felt Ansel’s gaze on him, a physical weight. Then, the slow, deliberate trace ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE



























