George kept sucking, coaxing every drop of moisture out of Lou until he lay limp, his hands at his sides. George rested his face on Lou’s thigh and stroked one leg with his right land, a gentle, lazy touch like the tide moving along the shore.
When George moved up beside him, Lou curled onto his side and pulled the sheet over them both. “Sorry I came so fast,” he murmured against George’s furred chest.
“It’s okay.” George kissed his forehead. “You were hungry.”
“You’re still hard.” He had been selfish, not that he’d had much choice in the matter.
“It’s okay,” George said again. “We have all night, don’t we?”
“Oh, yeah,” Lou said.
George tucked Lou’s head into the crook of his shoulder. “I’m here now. You can relax.”
