Jeremiah shivered, shut both eyes, clearly wanted to lean into the caress and also to not move, as commanded. His c**k stood up, hot and rigid; he was already dripping with want. Cade skimmed a finger along that length, up and down the shaft, down to tight-drawn balls, back to the tip, where he played with dribbles of desire and that delicious slit. Jeremiah moaned, low and wordless; when Cade checked his eyes had gone distant, euphoric, lost to rainbows.
He closed his hand around the shaft, tugged, stroked, toyed with that ready and vulnerable flesh: a hint of fingernails, a tease of feather-light pain, other hand petting a hip for soothing. Jeremiah started crying at that: not badly, merely uncontained unabashed small sobs in the bewildering onslaught of sensation. His hips jerked upwar
