As teeth sunk into the flesh of his neck, his fingers instinctively curled around the young man's cock hard, squeezing slightly as he began to stroke, none of the movements sharp enough to hurt, but sudden and rough all the same as he tipped his head, as if daring the boy to bite harder, to try and fight back.
His other hand was not idle in all of this. Quite the opposite; sliding around to the young man's waist, sliding up beneath his jacket and shirt and running over his back, over his spine, and then down, down and inside of the youth's trousers, pushing them past his hips and his thighs, before squeezing the youth's backside and using that grip to pull him even closer still.