“We have to get home,” he admitted. “We’ll be safer in the condo.”
At his voice, recognition dawned.
Slowly, he rolled over, and Gene knew he’d done a number on the man’s body. He had bite marks everywhere, his thighs were covered in dried cum, and his dick was still hard. Cum ran down it, pooling at his groin.
God.
He looked delicious, and it took everything Gene had not to take him in his mouth and blow him.
“Pants,” he said, pulling a pair of jeans onto Ethan’s body as he tried to get him dressed.
When he touched his dick to tuck him into his pants, Ethan’s hand went into his hair, and he pulled him down to his mouth, kissing him.
It was a hot tangle of tongues.
When Gene felt something wet on his hand, he realized that just kissing Ethan made him explode.
Fuck.
He’d never forget this night for as long as he lived.
Well, the parts he remembered. What happened at the Four Seasons, stayed at the Four Seasons as far as he was concerned.
“Baby, I have to get you dressed. Can you sit up?” Gene asked as he managed to pull his mouth away.
Somehow.
Ethan nodded, and Gene got him upright. Immediately, he cupped Gene through his pants.
It made him moan.
Yeah, he was still horny.
God.
He wished they could crawl into bed and sleep, but he needed to take care of his man. If they both passed out, they’d sleep away tomorrow.
And duty called.
Pulling a shirt over Ethan’s head, he got him into his jacket, and on his feet.
When he stared into his eyes, they were still halfway dilated.
“I need you,” Ethan whispered, still drugged up.
Yeah, he could see that.
And the feeling was mutual.
“I know, but we have to get home. When we get to our bed, you can climb all over me. Can you walk down the stairs?” he asked, knowing if he had to carry him, he was going to look like he was abducting someone.
Then again, the drugged-up part of his brain liked the idea of that, and his dick twitched.
Jesus.
This shit was dangerous.
Now, he understood why the US Government didn’t want it there. You became a sex slave, a zombie, and had no limits.