Page 77 of Mortal Sins


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into this beautiful vampire’s arms, and he never wanted to leave.

The temperature of their kiss turned to boiling within moments, Frankie again being the one with some

semblance of willpower and pulling away before things went too far.

“We need to get back and check on Lorenzo,” Frankie said, adjusting his glasses that had been

knocked askew during their heated make-out. “No telling what kind of trouble he’s gotten into.”

Reaching down to shift his uncomfortably erect cock, Snod scowled but nodded obediently. His

cheeks were still blazing hot from Frankie’s strong hand and he was eager for release. He glanced at

Frankie, grinning shyly. He didn’t have the heart to ask out loud, but he could definitely think it.

Blowjob...?

“You lost all your blowjob privileges when you decided to tell Mark about all the sex we’re no

longer having!” Frankie huffed, aiming for angry but he was smiling wide. “Come on!”

Frankie brought Snod back to the club to check on his friend, walking with him arm in arm as they

approached the dance floor. At first, Snod thought Lorenzo was having some kind of seizure. His long

braids were whipping about violently and his body was shaking as his arms flailed around him.

Most of the other patrons had given him plenty of space, letting him convulse at a safe distance.

“Yup, it’s time to go,” Frankie sighed, weaving out onto the dance floor to retrieve him.

“Wait,” Snod said, gently reaching for Frankie’s hand. “I meant it, about... the dancing.”

“Huh?” Frankie laughed in surprise. “You mean... you want to right now?”

“Yes,” Snod said eagerly, desperately wanting to be close to Frankie again.

“One song,” Frankie said, holding up his index finger to emphasize his determination. “Just one, and

then we have to get Lorenzo and go home.”

Snod grinned victoriously, eagerly wrapping his arms around Frankie. He stayed close, struggling to

keep on rhythm. He wasn’t very good, but dancing gave him the chance to touch Frankie all over and

he loved it. He blushed when Frankie’s hands grabbed his hips, helping him find the beat.

Dancing was a lot like sex, Snod began to learn. He wanted to thrust and slam, but Frankie was

showing him how to roll his hips against his, seductively moving with the music. It was getting easier,

and he smiled brightly when Frankie’s arms curled up around his neck.

The tempo of the music had dropped down, now a slow and throaty bass line that begged their bodies

to grind together. Snod held Frankie’s hips, their foreheads pressed together as they danced, unable to

tear himself away from those beautiful eyes for a second.