Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
They somehow made it to the elevator, then down the hallway—silent, awkward, charged. But the moment Type clicked the lock behind them, he wasn't even startled to find himself pinned to the door by Tharn.
Their mouths collided in a deep, filthy kiss—desperate, wet, and breathless. They explored each other's mouths with greedy tongues and lewd moans, their hips grinding against each other, erections pressed through clothes like they were trying to fuse. Tharn finally broke the kiss, only to trail his lips down to suck and nip at Type's already bruised bottom lip, swollen and red from their earlier play. When he pulled back, Type whimpered shamelessly for more.
Tharn(whispering against his ear, breathing heavily): "Is this where that damn ice cream dropped itself, huh?" He pecked his lips again, smug.
Type leaned his head against the wooden plank, letting out a sharp moan. Tharn had made him so oversensitive that even the gentlest touch sparked pleasure. Tharn's fingers gripped his waist tightly—tight enough to leave red marks. One hand palmed the hard bulge tenting Type's pants, the other smacked his ass a few times, earning sweet jolts and gasps from the man pinned beneath him.
Type had had enough of this teasing. With a growl, he yanked Tharn in by the nape and crashed their swollen lips back together. Tharn, all too happy to oblige, unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped every last restraint—without breaking the kiss. Moments later, he had Type pushed onto the bed, looming over him, worshipping his golden skin with kisses and hungry licks.
But just when things were heating up, Tharn stood up and vanished into the kitchen.
Type's jaw dropped.
Type (thinking): Seriously?! This man's hungry for food—now? When he's supposed to be eating me? This is ridiculous. Insulting. Humiliating.
He lifted himself up on his elbows, brows furrowed, his body still straining with arousal—only to see Tharn returning with a bowl full of chocolate sauce.
The smirk on Tharn's face said everything. Type's breath hitched as his lust-clouded eyes fixed on that bowl like it was holy.
Tharn set it down safely beside them and crawled back over him, eyes dark with desire.
He dipped a long finger into the thick, sweet blend and brought it to Type's lips.
Tharn: "Baby, suck it." He shoved the finger deep until he could feel the back of Type's throat.
Type gagged, but he didn't care. He was too far gone to resist. He locked eyes with Tharn's hazel gaze, sucking greedily on the chocolate-coated finger.
Tharn (cooing, low and filthy): "You like it, baby? Sweet enough for you? Such a pity you can't see how fuckingly gorgeous you look right now—taking my fingers like that, so obedient."
