Ordinarily, Stanford might have struggled at being caught in Bill’s grasp despite knowing of its futility. Instead, he seemed to surrender to the hands holding him, staying in place, staring down Bill in both a challenging and desirous manner.
“Don’t sass me,” Stanford said, through his heavy, slightly uneven breathing. He was still peppering kisses over Bill’s form, enjoying the heat against his lips and how incredibly solid Bill felt.
He paused a moment when Bill asked him if he wanted that chance, and he pulled back (well, how little he could pull back given how Bill was holding onto him) and stared Bill in the eye.
The more Stanford talked about destroying him, the more turned on he got. Really, you’d think Stanford would know that by now…but maybe he was doing it on purpose? That was a lovely thought, but perhaps a bit too optimistic.
“Oh, but I’m serious this time! It’s barely even a deal really, just a small favor in return for feeding you.”
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