A red flush traveled down the youth's pale face towards his chest. The air grew warmer against Moulin's skin, making him feel slightly hazy.
Suddenly, he flinched. A large hand gently held his ankle, snaking its way upwards. The youth raised a brow, tilting his head as he watched. Just as the man was about to stop, Moulin leaned back as though giving permission. His enchanting beauty was blindingly seductive.
Hadrian leaned forward while his golden eyes traced the movements of his hands. His brows twitched as he felt those delicate toes curved, arching around the firm flesh underneath the fabric. The man's fingers briefly twitched as he continued his teasing ministrations.
His fingertips finally reached Moulin's wet core, damp and warm as he inched closer, pulling an inner flesh aside with his thumb.
"Ah..." Moulin's head fell back, chest heaving, and eyes clouded.
