Son of a Witch

"Billy," he panted, breathing heavily not just from pleasure but from the release of the restraint on his feelings. He moved his hips with every stroke and twist of Billy's hands, wanting to be closer, wanting more and more. All night, or as much of it as his stamina would allow; as it was he felt another surge of wanting when he opened his eyes to see Billy all marked up with his spill.

"Want you so much," he murmured, tipping his head so Billy had more room to play kisses against his skin. Every touch felt like a new addiction, burned sweetly into his skin. "Give you everything I've got..."