It pulls from Izzy a sharp gasp, back arching up, mouth open with pleasure-pain. Nipple pebbling under the attention.

Joke’s on you, Lucius. You don’t have to ask. He’s into this shit, and his hand smooths by reflex down the back of the lad’s head as if to reassure. As if to ask for more.

“Ffh-“ it’s shuddery, coursing through his veins like fire, even dizzier as the blood in his body redirects to his cock. Hips grinding up for hungry contact.