James growled as his lip was tugged. That was certain to be sore tomorrow and he loved it. He was loving every moment of this. It was like... stepping outside of himself for a while, outside of his head, his heart, and he needed that right about now. "That's what I was made to do, angel," James replied, putting as much disgust into that last word as was possible.
Shoved onto the couch, his hands moved to touch as much of the other man as he could, remembering the curves of his body, his pale skin, his freckles, each moment only serving to make him that much harder. He moaned at the tongue trailed along his form, the demand against his throat leaving him panting. James rolled over, grasping the edge of the sofa with both hands.