“Patience, my darling, he sighed against the crook of Bae’s neck. Oh, but he could taste his lover’s desire, that burning, bone-deep need that matched his own. He tasted it in the salt on the boy’s sweat slicked skin, felt it in each movement, heard in every puff of breath.

“I don’t want to hurt you by rushing.”

Bae’s the only person who would ever hear such words from Yohan’s lips. Yohan would maim or kill anyone if it suited him to. But Bae? No, he wouldn’t do anything more to harm him than he’s already done in the past.

“It’s hard for me to wait, too. Feeling you like this makes me crazy.”

His hands stayed busy while he spoke: one continuing to stroke Bae’s dick and the other working to loosen that tight ring of muscle enough to accommodate a second and, eventually, a third finger.