“So wet,” Theo murmured. “All over. From this.”
“For you.”
“Entirely messy.” Theo stroked him again, deliberate this time. “So filthy, spilling all over. Practically obscene. But…well, perhaps I might not mind. Because you’re my mess, Henry, and I do love seeing you enjoying yourself.”
His hand closed around Henry’s shaft, and Henry made a sound that was either a sob or a plea, head thumping against the pillow. He felt everything, every drop of sensation sizzling in his veins, scorching and slick and cleansing as sugared flames.
“I think,” Theo mused, “I could do what you’re asking. Since you are asking, and so nicely…” He met Henry’s gaze again, serious under the teasing: open emotion lay there, more than Henry’d expected, as if Theo were taking the request and guarding it with all hi
