[ does he really mean — embry's heart leaps somewhere in his throat, threatening to choke him, but hawk's definitely looking at him with expectation in his liquid eyes, and embry feels his pupils dilate, feels every brush of tight leather and lace rubbing against his heated skin, and — fuck, he just wants hawk to touch him so badly. he'd kill for it, like he's starving, like he's never, ever been touched before. it has to be the drugs making him crazy right now, but he has the feeling that it's mostly just his desire for hawk driving him up the wall, reaching a point that can't be ignored for much longer. he's so goddamn horny. ]
Mr. Fuller —
[ it comes out in a whispered rush, teetering against his good sense. he should walk away. his cock has grown half-hard, and there's no way to hide it in his skimpy clothes and especially not if he actually sits down, but there's something commanding in the way hawk says it, in the way he looks at him, and embry suddenly eases forward, placing a hand on hawk's shoulder to balance himself. hawk looks devastatingly sexy, loose-limbed and just on the right side of disheveled. embry sinks down into his lap, little stitches of breath escaping his parted lips.
he looks closely at hawk's eyes, reaching up slowly to brush a gentle hand through tiny bits of his hair, to trace the dark outline of his brows. he tries not to move his hips at all, to avoid friction between his cock and hawk's thigh even if it's painful to be still. in his peripheral he can see other pairs of people gyrating against each other, mouths and hands and hips moving, snatches of sighs and soft groans filtering in the lulls of music. embry has been heedless with sex for a long time, so to refrain now feels like the most difficult thing in the world, like being edged against his will. he feels terribly exposed, like one wrong move will shake out all his secrets — the ones from his past and the ones he's presently keeping from hawk, a culmination of all the things that make him intensely undesirable. ]
Mr. Fuller. [ he's close now, close enough to catch hawk's vetiver scent, close enough that he barely has to speak above a whisper. he's never been inside hawk's home, but he's exhausted all his snooping options in his office, now that the cameras are there. ] Will you take me back home with you?
no subject
Mr. Fuller —
[ it comes out in a whispered rush, teetering against his good sense. he should walk away. his cock has grown half-hard, and there's no way to hide it in his skimpy clothes and especially not if he actually sits down, but there's something commanding in the way hawk says it, in the way he looks at him, and embry suddenly eases forward, placing a hand on hawk's shoulder to balance himself. hawk looks devastatingly sexy, loose-limbed and just on the right side of disheveled. embry sinks down into his lap, little stitches of breath escaping his parted lips.
he looks closely at hawk's eyes, reaching up slowly to brush a gentle hand through tiny bits of his hair, to trace the dark outline of his brows. he tries not to move his hips at all, to avoid friction between his cock and hawk's thigh even if it's painful to be still. in his peripheral he can see other pairs of people gyrating against each other, mouths and hands and hips moving, snatches of sighs and soft groans filtering in the lulls of music. embry has been heedless with sex for a long time, so to refrain now feels like the most difficult thing in the world, like being edged against his will. he feels terribly exposed, like one wrong move will shake out all his secrets — the ones from his past and the ones he's presently keeping from hawk, a culmination of all the things that make him intensely undesirable. ]
Mr. Fuller. [ he's close now, close enough to catch hawk's vetiver scent, close enough that he barely has to speak above a whisper. he's never been inside hawk's home, but he's exhausted all his snooping options in his office, now that the cameras are there. ] Will you take me back home with you?