Blood dripping from his lips, Byron pulled back. "You should say it more often," he hummed. With a playful growl, he stopped stroking Connor's length and tugged on his shirt. "Take your shirt and pants off," he commanded rolling his hips up against him. "I want my blood to cover you."
There had been many times in his past that Byron had such sudden fun, but since joining the circus it had not gotten as interesting as handing Connor the knife had become. The way his bloody hand tangled in his hair, Byron wanted more of the sensation with less clothing between them.