Rafael’s hand is rough and dry, but all-encompassing. He squeezes their heads together, lightly twisting them, and the bumps of his callouses add to the friction, to the heat, of the two of them combined.
Julien moans low as he rocks into the hold. Tight, hot, and wet—every sensation is focused on his center and Julien climbs higher and higher, the pressure building with every thrust and every hesitant squeeze.
But Julien can’t come first. He won’t let himself miss a single moment of Rafael’s release.
“Please.” Rafael stiffens as he curls in on himself. His mouth hangs open as he gasps for breath. He looks so good begging, his thick lips spit-soaked and shining, drawing Julien in.“Please. I—I can’t?—”
Julien can’t deny him a third time. “Come for me, Rafael. Give me everything you have.”
Rafael stills, but Julien continues to pump his hands and rock forward, giving him extra stimulation. When Rafael's thick hand falls away from their cocks and grips his own thigh, Julien is quick to cover them again, twisting their heads together and putting extra emphasis on Rafael’s.
The older man comes with a choked sob, his release hot and thick as it pools in Julien’s palm.
“That’s it,” Julien mutters, working him through it. “So good for me, so good. You’re doing so well.”
When he can, Rafael’s eyelashes flutter open and his eyebrows draw up. He seems confused, almost lost, and his eyes shake as he stares at Julien.
Mr. People-Fall-To-Their-Knees-For-Me doesn’t seem like the type of guy who blindly follows directions—the type of guywho would beg his partner to let him come. No, Rafael is definitely the type who takes what he can and leaves everyone else high and dry.
But he begged Julien. Whimpered and pleaded in several languages.
That’s delicious.
Rafael hisses, oversensitive, when Julien pulls away from his tip. His cock is a violent color, the skin rubbed raw, but it still dribbles a final bead of cum in the cool air.
Julien pumps himself as he lifts his soiled hand up to Rafael’s own gasping mouth. “Lick it.”
“What?!”Rafael heaves. Still, his mouth hangs open with harsh breaths, his tongue purposely extended.
Julien nudges his hand up against the slack mouth as he furiously works his cock. Will he? Would the greatRafael Souzademean himself to clean his own cum off a man’s hand?
Julien’s stare remains laser-focused on the wet muscle and Rafael’s tongue twitches under the scrutiny.
“Lick it, Rafael.”
Rafael closes his eyes as he leans forward, closing the gap. The pad of his tongue is rough as it drags across the surface of Julien’s palm, collecting enough cum to pool in the center before he draws it back inside.
His expression immediately sours. “Fuck, that’s gross.”
He did it. Rafael Souza actually did it. He ate his own cum.
Julien’s breath hitches, and he groans low as he spills over his fist. With his cock still upright, his thick spend catches the back of his hand as Julien pumps himself dry.
He heaves in the aftermath, gulping in air as he sways in place. Fuck, he hasn’t come with another person in a long time. They should do this more often. Even if he doesn’t make the top five.
Curiosity and sex-brain brings his licked hand up to his mouth. Julien tastes what is left and grimaces. “You should eat more fruit.”
Maybe melon. He should’ve shared his plate at breakfast.
Rafael sounds more composed when he asks, “Are you planning to swallow more of my cum?”
There’s a teasing lilt to the question that makes Julien scoff. “Only if you get me to the front of the grid.”
“I’m not a miracle worker, but I’ll try.” Rafael yanks his boxer briefs back up with his free hand and tucks himself in. “Want one of those drinks now? We could watch something?”
“What time is—?” Julien carefully twists his wrist, navigating the razor edge between being able to see his watch and dumping a puddle of cum on the expensive hotel rug. “Fuck. I can’t, I’m running late.”
“Running late?”
