Page 80 of Contested

The way Marcos’ breath caught when Sebastian used his tongue under the head. The way his stomach tightened when Sebastian took him deeper. The way his hand in Sebastian’s hair flexed every time Sebastian pulled back too far.

Sebastian took him again, throat working around him, hand steady at the base, and Marcos’ control slipped another notch. His hips moved with more purpose now, shallow thrusts that met Sebastian’s mouth without quite taking over. Sebastian let it happen for a few seconds, let Marcos feel the rhythm of it, then pulled off all the way.

Marcos’ cock slapped against his abs, slick and wet.

Sebastian moved up his body before Marcos could say anything, dragging his mouth along his stomach, his chest, his throat, then taking Marcos’ lips. Marcos opened for him almost immediately. Sebastian’s tongue slid against his lip, and Marcos’ mouth parted wider, letting him in.

Sebastian could still taste Marcos as the kiss deepened.

Marcos noticed. Sebastian felt the moment he did in the way his hand tightened at Sebastian’s waist, in the rougher sound that left him when their tongues met properly. Sebastian thought it would make him hesitate or pull away. It didn’t. Marcos kissed him harder instead, chasing the taste, chasing Sebastian, and that did something filthy and bright inside Sebastian’s chest.

Sebastian pulled away again, breathing harder now, and his eyes fell to Marcos.

He had one arm thrown over his head, biceps flexing, the other hand still buried in Sebastian’s hair. His mouth was wet from the kiss, his chest flushed, his cock slick against his stomach. He looked wrecked already, and Sebastian hadn’t even really started.

“Take control,” Sebastian murmured, his finger circling Marcos’ nipple.

“Yeah?” Marcos said, his voice steady, and Sebastian saw he was the most confident he’d been all night.

“Yeah.” Sebastian grinned, licking his lips. “I want you to fuck my face.”

Those words changed him.

Sebastian saw it happen. The last piece of uncertainty didn’t disappear, exactly, but something stronger rose over it. Marcos’ eyes darkened, his mouth parting as his hand tightened in Sebastian’s hair, and the look that settled across his face made Sebastian’s stomach pull low and hard.

Sebastian didn’t wait for an answer. He slowly made his way back down Marcos’ body, tongue marking every step of the way. He dragged it down Marcos’ throat, across the centre of his chest, over the nipple he had already teased until Marcos’ breath hitched again. He kissed lower, following the lines of his stomach, letting his mouth trail through the dark hair beneath his navel before reaching the base of his cock.

Marcos’ hand stayed in his hair the whole time. Firmer and more certain.

Sebastian reached the tip again and paused with his mouth just above him, close enough that Marcos could feel his breath. Then Sebastian glanced up through his lashes.

There was something in Marcos’ eyes he hadn’t seen before.

Hunger. Pure lust.

It sat openly on his face now, no joke to soften it and no hesitation quick enough to cover it. Marcos stared at Sebastian like he wanted to ruin him and was finally starting to believe he was allowed.

Sebastian’s pulse quickened, and he opened his mouth, preparing to give himself fully to Marcos.

|| Chapter Eighteen ||

Marcos – “I could get used to it”

Marcos’ fingers tensed in Sebastian’s hair.

For a moment, everything narrowed to that. His fingers buried in Sebastian’s hair. Sebastian’s mouth parted beneath him. The way Sebastian squinted through his lashes, eyes wet and steady and waiting for Marcos to do something with what he had asked for.

Marcos’ cock twitched, the tip running along Sebastian’s lips. Sebastian didn’t move away. He didn’t smirk or make another joke to fill the space. He stayed there between Marcos’ thighs, shirt off, mouth wet, gaze fixed upward as though he knew exactly what Marcos was waiting to feel.

Shame should have come.

Marcos waited for it, almost without meaning to. The drop in his stomach. The sharp twist under his ribs. The wrongness that had chased him out of Sebastian’s apartment the first time and followed him all the way home. He waited for his body to decide this was too much, too close, too real, and there was no easy interruption waiting to save him from what he wanted.

It didn’t come.

His heart was hitting hard enough to make his chest feel tight, and nerves still ran through him, thin and annoying beneath his skin, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing in him wanted to run. Nothing in him wanted to pull Sebastian off and pretend nothing had happened.

Sebastian stuck his tongue out.