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It’s taking everything I have not to fuck him unconscious while he is babbling like this.

He bends his right leg.

Am I the danger? Then they have never met him.

They should make me a fucking saint. I have no idea where I’m finding all this self-control.

“I am not... I am not a girl, Dorian. No tits... no soft skin. Does that... does that confuse you? Because you are... you are throbbing for me, aren’t you?”

I lower my gaze, slowly, until I can no longer ignore what his parted legs are shoving in my face. I furrow my brows, my temples throbbing at the same furious rhythm as my blood. It is the first time I have seen him.

His length is there, naked, exposed to the dim light, taut and veined, glistening with a sweat that seems to invite me to sin. It isn’t the abstract fantasy that tormented me at night, it is real flesh, hard, masculine. It is the visible proof that everything I have craved is real, and it is fucking wrong, and it is the most exciting thing I have ever seen.

I feel a painful pressure against my fly, a turgor so violent it forces me to clench my fists to keep from reaching out and seizing him. I feel the air leave me.

Evander exhales a breath that tastes of wine and fever, a thick sound that pulls me violently back to him. He arches his hips, a slick movement that makes the light catch on his exposed skin.

“Only... just noticing, Dorian?” he slurs, the words slipping from his wet lips. “Are you... finally realizing what I am? Are you only realizing... now?”

I never would have thought him capable of saying such things, not even when drunk.

I reach out and seize his jaw, my fingers pressing with too much force against his hot skin. I force him to keep his face up.

“Do you want me to say it? Fine,” I rasp through my teeth, while my thumb presses with violence into the hollow beneath his lower lip, silencing any further provocation.

I lean over him until my erection presses against his naked thigh, a contact that makes the muscles in my arms tremble. My gaze drops once more to his cock, then returns to lock into his veiled eyes.

“I want you so fucking much it’s making me sick.”

I tighten my grip on his chin.

“Are you happy now?”

Evander swallows, his throat jumping beneath the burning skin, as he stares at me with those glassy eyes that seem to want to flay me.

I feel his leg. It rises slowly, rubbing skin against the fabric of my trousers, pressing right where the blood pushes against the taut cloth. The breath hitches in my lungs.

I remain suspended over him while his lips part just slightly.

“Dirty pervert... just a dirty pervert, aren’t you, Dorian?”

“And yet, you are the one rubbing against a pervert.”

“I am barely moving. It’s you who cannot stop thinking about it.”

I release my grip on his chin and pick up the cloth again.

“I didn’t vanish,” the sound comes out raw, “nor did I ignore you. I was in Brittany.”

I move the cloth slowly, cleaning where his seed remained.

Did this malchik really come this much just from rubbing against me?

How pretty.

He lifts his hips again.

I want to swallow him whole.