okay, lil sneak peek for the hook up era shane wants to try porn he saw thing:
“Always so eager,” Rozanov croons. He reaches up and pushes the pad of his thumb down on Shane’s bottom lip until Shane opens his mouth, lets it slip inside, closing his lips around the digit to lick and suck at it. “Desperate for it, Hollander? Need something in your mouth?”
Shane’s eyes flutter shut. He hates when Rozanov talks to him like that; hates it because it’s true and Rozanov reads him so well, lays open so easily what Shane tries to hold in so hard. The words coat him in syrupy heat, though, sliding over and through him: a potent mix of humiliation, frustration and pleasure that has Shane moaning around the thumb in his mouth. He nods. There is no point in denying it, when it’s all out on display.
Rozanov’s thumb strokes his tongue firmly. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs, leaning close and using his free hand to palm at Shane’s straining dick through his sweatpants. “You can have it. I’ll give it to you.”
Shane moans, deep and guttural. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s easy here. It’s a comforting thought. An arousing thought. That his own desire, his blatant, rampant need, affects Rozanov so much, too.
He lets go of Rozanov’s thumb with a wet pop and licks his lips. “Fucking give it to me then,” he says impatiently, bitchily, and watches Rozanov’s gaze darken even further.
Rozanov grins at him. His hands hook around Shane’s ankles and he places Shane’s feet on his thighs before hooking under the waistband of Shane’s sweats and underwear. “Up,” he says, and then pulls them off when Shane braces on his palms and lifts his ass off the counter.
Once Shane is naked, too, Rozanov trails light fingers up the length of his cock, smearing the wetness into flushed skin.
“So wet already,” he drawls. “You are excited, yes?”
It makes Shane’s dick twitch and leak more precome. Fuck, this should not be doing it for him.
“What’s it look like?” he snaps, glad that he’s flushed all the way already. Going by the way his face heats even more, he might change shade and give himself away anyway.
“Mmmh, I don’t know. You tell me.”
What. A. Fucking. Asshole.
Through clenched teeth, Shane says, “Yes. Now can we get on with it?”
Rozanov sighs dramatically. “And they say romance is dead.”
Shane’s stomach flips, heart stuttering. “Shut up. This isn’t a fucking romance.”
“You have such a way with words.” Rozanov is smirking his shit-eating smirk again. “You could ask nicely.”
Shane shoves at his thigh with his foot before he turns, laying himself down on his counter. Briefly, he considers moving this endeavor somewhere else—this is his kitchen—but decides against it. He’ll just have to disinfect it after.
“Please hurry up, asshole.”
Rozanov laughs at that while Shane wiggles into place, and his cock bounces with the movement in front of Shane’s face. It’s flushed a dark, dusty pink, beading at the tip, and Shane’s mouth fills with saliva.