His estimations on Shawn’s body hadn’t been generous enough. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man, nothing soft and pliable to make him forget just who it was he touched. Hair darker than what was on his head curled around his flat, succulent n*****s, narrowing into a taut line that traveled straight to his stiff c**k.
He grasped it before the jeans were even off, unable to resist its heat, its hardness. The shaft throbbed against his palm, and when he stroked it once, the muscles in Shawn’s ridged abdominals twitched against his mouth.
“Jesus, yeah, just like that,” Shawn encouraged. His hands molded over Dario’s shoulders, onto his chest, to tweak his n*****s. “I hope you want to be f****d. It’s been too long since I’ve wanted someone as much as I want you.”
A thrill raced down his
