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“That,” Leon cried. “That, again!”
“Yes, sir,” Sebastian whimpered and prodded around until he found the spot that made the world shake. Then he rubbed at it mercilessly, with Leon bearing down on him. “Yes, sir, oh god, Leon.”
“You’re doing good. Fuck, you’re doing so good, Sebastian.”
“Leon.”
“Get a hand on your cock. I want to see you come.”
Sebastian whined and fell onto his back so he could wrap his other hand around his throbbing length. He forced himself to pull and tug as the sensations started to mount and mount, and he shook and found himself scared to go over the edge.
“Leon, I’ve never—Not with—I don’t—”
It wasn’t just his body; it wasn’t just his pleasure coursing through him—he wasn’t alone. He’d never come with a passenger. And Leon was no passenger. He’d always thought of any other mind in his body as a separate, hostage presence. But Leon was with him, shaking apart and coming undone.
How could he let go when his body wasn’t his own? How could he give in?
“You can do it, Sebastian,” Leon panted in his ear as though he lay beside him, right there, watching him, commanding it. “You’re doing so good, Sebastian.”
“Leon.” Sebastian whimpered and whined, but he didn’t stop.
“Harder.”
“Leon!”
“Harder!”
Sebastian pressed hard on his prostate, and his orgasm ripped through him.
He threw his head back with a long cry that broke into gasping whines as his cock pulsed and the muscles of his ass clenched around his fingers, sending rhythmic, insistent shocks of pleasure up his spine.
Slowly, the waves ebbed, and Sebastian’s muscles loosened. He pulled his fingers free of his ass with a hiss, then melted back into the carpet. He panted until he had enough oxygen, and then he swallowed. He reached out carefully.
“Leon?”
Velvety soft, warm, dreamy affection reached back for him. “I’m here.”
Sebastian sighed with relief and closed his eyes. He stroked his hand over the soft carpet and smiled a smile that could only be described as dopey.
Leon laughed. “We’re going to get sticky.”
Sebastian snorted and waved his hand half-heartedly in the air before letting it fall back to the soft ground with a thud. “Then we’ll take another shower.”
“What about your warm washcloth?”
“Overrated.”
Leon laughed. “How long are you going to lie here?”
“Until my legs want to move.”
“You mean my legs.”
Sebastian shrugged and stretched until he was spread-eagle, enjoying the pull on his pliant muscles. “Same, same.”
They lay for a while longer, Leon not prodding him to move despite his words. It was a lovely, comfortable silence, and so slowly, a little guilt started to creep into Sebastian’s mind, and it didn’t come from Leon’s. He sighed and sat up, careful not to let any semen congealing on his stomach drip onto the floor.
He looked at the mirror with his best look of contrition, as difficult as the expression was to make with Leon’s facial muscles. “I’m sorry for throwing darts at your face.”
