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Summary
Charles’s ears flicked, confusion sparking through the haze. He’d never seen Max look at him like that before, never flirted, never touched. Why now? Why like this?
But then Max was rocking again, tight heat milking him, and Charles couldn’t hold onto the thought. His claws curled into the sheets, his eyes rolled back, and all that came out was a soft, broken whine.
Max kissed his jaw, his throat, whispering between ragged breaths: “Doesn’t matter why. Just let me ride you, pup. Be my good boy. I’ll take care of everything.”
