The rain hummed. Jeremiah gasped and cried out and made very satisfactory sounds, moaning and begging. Cade did not touch his cock, and told him that if he came he’d do it from Cade’s cock inside him, getting fucked, coming all over himself.
Jeremiah whimpered and squirmed against him, arching up, trying to pleasure himself more. Cade’s fingers left prints on his hips, his thighs, his backside. Cade told him he was lovely that way, and it was true: he was, general genial calm utterly destroyed, reduced to wet eyes and flushed skin and pleading, wholly belonging to a lover. Cade fucked him harder, deeper, until Jeremiah cried out again, high and trembling, and his cock jerked and began to spill white-hot release across his quivering stomach.