Gerry struggled for words around his panting. “Y-you look amazing.” He dragged one finger down the cleft of Mark’s ass, drawing the fluid with him. “A prince. Or an angel…” A pleased laugh spilled out of Mark’s mouth and he dropped on to his side, his legs still wound around Gerry’s. He reached up, waited for Gerry to get closer, and then pulled Gerry into a long kiss. Neither of them paid any mind to the man wiggling out from underneath them.
Gerry stroked Mark’s damp skin, everywhere and anywhere he could reach. He kissed Mark with the ferocity of a starving dog, and even though he had taken more than he’d ever imagined he’d get, Gerry still voiced a groan of disappointment when Mark pulled away from him. Mark held up one finger, silencing Gerry before he had a chance to speak, and looked over Gerry’s shoulder. “Well, what do you say, Rebel boy? Was that punk enough for you?”