Son of a Witch

Billy moved easily with Bucky's guidance, lifting his chin and holding still, though his throat bobbed thickly. He felt half drunk with lust, and the pictures Bucky was painting were painfully tantalizing. He released a hot breath, bashful and eager, not sure which of the scenarios was more appealing. He wanted all of it. All of him.

And he struggled to find the words to voice that want, though the intent was clear enough with a low whine of "Please-" breath hitching at that tease, knife turning so deftly.in those skilled hands.