A gasp, as Burr crowds him, palms his ass. He sounds a bit like a maiden about to be deflowered, but it's just simple surprise, truly; he was prepared to have to use other methods at his disposal to persuade.
Benedicta had said, of Burr: horny as a goat, but likes to flatter, likes company, likes to be hit more than he likes hitting, and gives as good as he gets. All in all, one of the best recommendations Alexander has gotten, in his few years servicing (mostly) men this way. Others who are monied enough to meet Benedicta's price would be younger, and so more likely to impregnate him, and rougher, more demanding, at a time when Alexander will want to be the one doing the demanding.
He would deny it, but he is nervous. It's his first heat he didn't just sweat out on his own, because if he doesn't feel safe enough, he will sweat it out, money be damned.
Burr's first reaction was to try and leave: his second, to touch, without bruising hands. Admiring hands, in fact, as they skim around to palm him, where he firms up at a speed that, at any other time, would be embarrassing. Feels weak in the knees, suddenly, at the sheer force of Burr's presence. How old is he? Sixty-five? And he still has a force of personality that makes Alexander feel outmatched, something he tolerated less and less well as he grew older.
Alexander lets out a breathless laugh. Leans back, to push himself bodily against Burr. "You said don't ask this of me," he repeats back. "But I think I have a right, don't I?" Slides his hand over Burr's, and guides him to press harder, at which sensation Alexander suddenly needs Burr's help to stay upright, his body responding with an inviting warmth, a surge of slick that he can feel. He thought he had a few hours, at least, before that -- "Though now I want a quite different kind of satisfaction."
He twists around, dropping the bottle, and drags Burr into a kiss. How can he be so hot for this, so quickly?
Unless it is, in devastating truth, that he always wanted this. That Laurens wasn't the only one that drew his attention, once upon a time.
"Show me," he breathes, against Burr's mouth. "Show me."
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Benedicta had said, of Burr: horny as a goat, but likes to flatter, likes company, likes to be hit more than he likes hitting, and gives as good as he gets. All in all, one of the best recommendations Alexander has gotten, in his few years servicing (mostly) men this way. Others who are monied enough to meet Benedicta's price would be younger, and so more likely to impregnate him, and rougher, more demanding, at a time when Alexander will want to be the one doing the demanding.
He would deny it, but he is nervous. It's his first heat he didn't just sweat out on his own, because if he doesn't feel safe enough, he will sweat it out, money be damned.
Burr's first reaction was to try and leave: his second, to touch, without bruising hands. Admiring hands, in fact, as they skim around to palm him, where he firms up at a speed that, at any other time, would be embarrassing. Feels weak in the knees, suddenly, at the sheer force of Burr's presence. How old is he? Sixty-five? And he still has a force of personality that makes Alexander feel outmatched, something he tolerated less and less well as he grew older.
Alexander lets out a breathless laugh. Leans back, to push himself bodily against Burr. "You said don't ask this of me," he repeats back. "But I think I have a right, don't I?" Slides his hand over Burr's, and guides him to press harder, at which sensation Alexander suddenly needs Burr's help to stay upright, his body responding with an inviting warmth, a surge of slick that he can feel. He thought he had a few hours, at least, before that -- "Though now I want a quite different kind of satisfaction."
He twists around, dropping the bottle, and drags Burr into a kiss. How can he be so hot for this, so quickly?
Unless it is, in devastating truth, that he always wanted this. That Laurens wasn't the only one that drew his attention, once upon a time.
"Show me," he breathes, against Burr's mouth. "Show me."