“You’re tight as f**k,” Zion muttered, voice low and filthy. “Been dreaming about wrecking this hole since the first night I had my mouth on you.” He crooked his fingers, searching—and found it. Elias’s whole body jolted as pleasure sparked white-hot up his spine. A broken sound tried to escape; he buried his face in his arm and bit down hard on the fabric of his sleeve.
Zion added a third finger, pumping faster, the wet squelch of lube obscenely loud in the quiet office. Elias’s c**k was trapped against the edge of the desk, leaking steadily onto the wood. His hips rocked back despite himself, chasing the stretch.
“Beg for it,” Zion whispered hotly against the back of his neck, teeth grazing skin. “Tell me you need my cock.”
Elias shook his head, pride warring with desperate need. Zion
