Pure sulking poured out of Claude's pout. He tried to play this guy, thinking Len was still as weak as he'd been days ago. He could only lie on the bed he made.
The mate pulled on Len's hold one last time. However, he couldn't break free. Claude scoffed, only to move and sit on Len's thighs. He then sealed their lips together for a kiss. Instead of backing away, he rested his forehead against Len's face.
Breathing on Len's lips, Claude whispered, "Maybe I should have started with locking the door. Can I at least have my hand back?"
"Beg for it."
"You think I'll do that?"
"Pity me, baby."
Two sets of laughter continued their conversation. Claude's laugh had a taunting sound, while Len could only grin and get amused. After all, Claude turned his hand around and grabbed the space between Len's legs. Whether it was in protest or the start of foreplay, Len only kept holding Claude's wrist closer to his body.
