Arion's control slipped for a fraction of a second. A low, possessive growl ripped from his chest, and the hand on Dean's cock tightened. "You taste like desperation," Arion murmured around him, the words muffled but vibrating intensely.
He dove back down, his mouth voracious and hungry. He bobbed his head, faster now, his lips a tight, slick ring of fire, his tongue pressing down relentlessly. One of his hands left Dean's hip and cupped his balls, rolling them gently, then applying a firm, perfect pressure that made white light explode behind Dean's eyelids.
The coil in Dean's gut wound tighter and tighter, a spring of pure sensation ready to snap. He could feel a hot, urgent pressure building up at the base of his spine. His breaths came in short, sharp gasps. "I'm close… I'm so close, Arion, please…"
