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“Yeah,” he breathes, his voice rough. “I do.”

He’s looking at the mark like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, as if seeing evidence of what I did to him, what I’m willing to do to him, is almost enough to send him over the edge.

“Good,” I say, moving back down, my mouth finding the other inner thigh. “Because I’m going to put another one right here, and I want you thinking about me every time you move for the next week. Every time you’re naked.”

“Fuck, Marcus.” His head falls back, and I hear the groan he tries to suppress as my mouth lands on him. He’s so needy, and I’m going to keep him right here on the edge until he’s begging me for release.

I lap at the seam where his thigh meets his groin, tasting the sweat and musk of him. I take his balls into my mouth, one at a time, rolling them gently with my tongue, feeling the weight of them.

“Fuck, you’re trying to kill me.”

“Patience,” I murmur against his skin, though I’m not sure who I’m saying it for—him or me.

I return to his cock, using my hand to wrap it around the base and stroke in time with my mouth. I twist my wrist on the upstroke, my tongue swirls against the head on the downstroke. I’m using every trick I know and every technique I’ve learned over the years, all focused on one thing: making Evan lose his mind.

It’s working. No one has ever begged for me like this before. But no other experience has ever been this good.

His hips are thrusting upward erratically now, his movements losing their rhythm. His head is thrown back, his mouth open, and the muscles in his stomach are clenched tight. He’s a beautiful, agonizing preview of the orgasm waiting for me.

And that’s when I stop. Again.

“Not yet,” I tease, pulling off completely.

“Marcus, nooo.” He huffs in frustration.

“I’m still not done with you yet.” I reach for the lube packet and condom in my wallet. “I told you, I want in your ass. You still want that?”

“Yes,” he agrees easily.

I rip open the foil packet with my teeth. Evan’s eyes track my every movement as I squeeze the clear gel onto my fingers. His chest heaves, and I can see his pulse beating wildly in his throat.

“Turn over. Hands and knees.”

He moves instantly to obey. The sight of him like this—ass up, face down, waiting for me—sends another possessive urge through me. His back is a canvas of smooth skin and shifting muscles, and I want to paint it with my cum. I run a hand down his spine, from the nape of his neck to the swell of his ass, feeling him shiver beneath my touch—a full-body tremor that has nothing to do with cold.

“Please touch me,” he begs again, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I need to come.”

I know he does, so I press one slick finger against his entrance, circling the tight ring of muscle before finally giving him what he wants and sinking in to the first knuckle. He’s so fucking tight. A hot, velvet vice grip clamping down on me, trying to suck me in deeper. I work him open slowly as I watch my finger disappear inside him, a sight that makes my own cock ache.

He’s impatient, but I take my time, enjoying every small reaction—the way his toes curl when I brush against that spot inside him, the soft whimpers he tries to suppress but can’t quite contain.

Finally, I add a second finger when he starts pushing back, his movements growing more insistent. His body is practically begging me now, all pretense of patience abandoned. His hips are rocking in a rhythm that matches my strokes.

He’s acting like I’m torturing him by properly prepping him with all his mumbled words, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.

“More,” he groans, pushing back harder against my fingers scissoring inside of him.

His vocabulary has deteriorated into a string of profanities and my name. He told me he’s vers, but right now he’s acting like a needy bottom for me, and I’m eating this up. The way he’s completely surrendered to pleasure makes my chest tighten. Only then do I roll on the condom and lube my shaft, adding the extra to his stretched hole.

“Ready for me?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“Yes, fuck, finally.”

“I can torture you some more if you’re going to act like that.”

“No. No, I promise I’ll be good.”

God, he’s too perfect.