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Summary
[He's studying your flushed face between his legs, your hand repeatedly touching him, your eyes apologetic, your lips constantly whetted by your tongue darting out like a nervous tic. He feels heat pooling low inside him. He wants to put his gloved hand on your head, tangle his fingers in your hair, pull your face closer.]
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A hot crawling sensation races across your shoulders and up your neck, your face heating again as you stare back at him with wide eyes. You feel like a deer in the headlights, unable to move.Series
- Part 2 of Callsign Jumper
