“Sore. Very sore. Wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for you.”
His lover only looked even more smug when he heard that.
“If you could still move enough for a hand-to-hand combat, I hadn’t done my job properly. Should we go for another round? I always love the number eight. Make it an even number and all that jazz.”
“Ha! Ha! You wish!”
“And you don’t?” Tim whispered teasingly, kissing him longingly on his lips.
“You’re an insatiable beast,” he remarked when they separated.
“Me? I have plenty of scratches on my back, my buttocks, my thighs, and my neck to prove you’re the beast.”
“Yeah? Tell that to all the hickeys on my neck, chest, and thighs.”
“Well, you’re too sexy. I can’t help myself.”