Page 122 of The Butterfly Killer

He was harder than he’d ever been. Even the exhaustion from work couldn’t deter the fire in his gut.

Roman was more gentle with Marcus’s pants. He unbuttoned them and yanked them down along with his boxers. His cock sprung up, slapping his quivering stomach. He hissed at the cold air.

His pants pooled at his ankles. Roman kneeled on the floor, sliding between Marcus’s thighs. His warm hands left goosebumps on his skin as he snaked his way to Marcus’s crotch. His dick twitched with anticipation.

He moaned as Roman fisted his cock. He tossed his head back, writhing just from this touch alone. Roman began pumping him with slow but steady strokes.

“When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

Marcus wanted to lie. He really did. But when he opened his eyes, Roman was staring him down with a look that melted his insides. He swallowed the denial and reached out to Roman for mercy.

Roman grabbed the hand Marcus held out to him and shoved it onto the bed. He stopped stroking, squeezing the base of Marcus’s dick, staving off the orgasm that had been rising fast to the finish line.

“Shit! Fuck, okay! Last night!”

Roman’s grip loosened, but he didn’t let go. He grinned, showing his teeth in the little moonlight coming through the window above the bed. “Really? What were you thinking about?”

Marcus’s face flushed. His whole body lit up with a fire that licked his flesh. He began to shake his head when Roman frowned.

“If you’re not going to tell me, I’m just going to have to wring it out of you.” Then he dipped down and gave a hard suck to the tip of Marcus’s dick.

Marcus bucked his hips and howled as the delicious heat and suction felt like it was going to rip his dick apart.

Roman just barely let his teeth graze the sensitive head. That was all it took to have Marcus falling apartment on the bed, writhing in pain and pleasure twisting up inside him. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. Roman pulled away after the torture.

He blew onto the reddened mushroom head. It was salt to the wound.

Marcus cried out. He let out a broken sob as his balls swelled painfully.

Roman pulled away. His dark eyes watched Marcus.

“Are you going to tell me now?”

Marcus trembled. The shakes were uncontrollable. “I was thinking of you. Roman,please.”

It must have been the right thing to say—the truth admittedly—and it had Roman finally climbing up from where he was between Marcus’s thighs. All the control he seemed to have vanished. Marcus didn’t know how he could hold himself back at all when Marcus was about to burst from the mere idea of Roman touching him.

Their mouths were on each other again. The frenzy of hands all over each other’s bodies was a sea of chaos.

Then, Marcus found himself being flipped over on his stomach. His hips were hitched so his ass was up in the air and his face was shoved into the rumbled covers. His heated breath fanned over his face.

His fingers clawed at the sheet. The blanket had been shoved to the side to make room for what they were about to do. Roman’s hands snaked up Marcus’s naked thighs. His pants were awkwardly hanging off his ankles, but he didn’t care as Roman kneeled on the bed, bracketing his own legs.

Goosebumps rose where Roman’s fingers grazed. He was exposed, laid bare to Roman’s mercy. He felt more vulnerable than when Roman had no intention of keeping him alive forever. It was strange to think that he’d ever been afraid of Roman or he’d ever wanted to hurt him.

Now, he was willing to give the man everything. Anything he desired and he’d hand it over in a heartbeat.

His own heartbeat was fluttering rapidly against his ribcage. He felt it in his throat which had become as dry as his mouth. He swallowed, wishing to taste Roman’s mouth again, but also torn because he didn’t want Roman to stop touching him down there.

Another round of nervousness racketed up his spine. It was a shudder that turned into a stillness he couldn’t help or hide.

Roman felt it. He in turn stilled, his hands resting on the globes of Marcus’s ass.

“What is it?”

His voice was so soft Marcus could have pretended to not hear it. He could have just demanded Roman fuck him to get it over with, take his pleasure and not care about Marcus’s. That would have still be good for Marcus. Having Roman rut into him, moaning until he came inside him, it would have been enough even if Marcus himself didn’t get off.

But he knew Roman wouldn’t have been happy with that. His satisfaction was closely tied to Marcus’s. He loved to see him fall apart and there was no doubt that falling apart on his dick like a bitch would also count as well.

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