“You want this…” Smith continues. His fingers slowly trace down the line of Trott’s throat, feather-light, dipping into Trott’s collarbone before moving upward again.
Trott draws in a soft, shaky inhale. Smith’s fingertips skim up the side of his neck, feeling his pulse beneath skin.
“Please…Smith.” Trott whispers, and Smith can hardly disappoint him now, not when he says his name so sweetly.
“Alright…” He drawls, grin spreading across his face. “Just remember, Trott…you asked for it.”
CW: BDSM and sex. If I need to tag anything else, let me know.