(Warning: Mature content.)
As Ambrose deepened his kiss with Viktor, he could already feel his length hardening underneath the towel around his waist.
He tried pulling away. He really did.
But then Viktor's hands raked from his chest, to his back—and then to his waist. And heavens, the moment those cold fingers dug into his skin he was a ruined man.
"W–We should probably head back downstairs," Ambrose stuttered, quivering when Viktor's kisses trailed to the crook of his neck. "D–Devon… and Orion—"
"Orion was snoring before I came up here." Viktor chuckled softly into his skin. "And Devon won't mind. He could always join us if he walks in."
Before Ambrose could refute further, Viktor untangled the towel until it slipped to the floor. Cold air kissed his ass cheeks right before the S-Rank smacked them hard.
"Fuck." His accent slipped, husky and filled with need. "I could kiss that ass all day and it still won't be enough."
