The ring weighted Michael’s hand down in new, odd angles. He let it turn his hand where he slipped it beneath Tre’s shirt, allowing his fingertips different paths along the hard abdominal muscles, but it was the absence of sensation along the length, in that fraction of an inch where the band met the knuckle, that heightened every stroke. It teased, offering heat and smooth, glorious skin only to take it away when it met the ring. Then came the resurgent warmth, ready for the taking again. Michael touched back and forth, delighting in the new sensations, as he drowned in Tre’s kisses.
Tre broke the seal of their mouths, but only moved far enough to yank Michael’s shirt over his head. As soon as the garment was gone, Tre’s lips returned to Michael’s body. Starting at his chin, Tre worked his way down, finding his way to one nipple then the other. His fingers were as busy as his mouth, working at Michael’s pants until his erection was free of its constraints