Sebastian L. Moran, 38, Chief of Staff for J. Moriarty
Jim licked his lips, the taste of the scotch still lingering on them. He swallowed and leaned his head back when Sebastian dragged his fingers down his throat, taking a deep breath to regain a little of his own self-control. Wouldn’t do to give in to himself now, would it, that easily, because of a bit of an ice cold shiver up his spine and a kiss on his shoulder. A kiss with teeth; a bruise to add to his collection. No complaints here.
Jim looked over his shoulder at the other man, squeezing his knee. His smile was lascivious at best, a mortal sin as he met Sebastian’s bright green eyes. He licked his lips again, his habit, and still caught just the faintest ghost of the scotch from Sebastian’s fingers.
“Well, that all depends.” He was turned slightly to make direct eye contact, but that didn’t stop him from grinding back against Sebastian’s cock. Once, slowly, again, faster, and again. “Could you last all night?” He laughed, his fingers digging into Sebastian’s leg before he slipped off his lap again and knelt down between his thighs, hooking his hands behind Sebastian’s knees and pulling him forward a bit in the chair. The ice clicked against the sides of the glass and he smiled as he peered up at Sebastian, reaching up to take the tumbler out of his hand.
“Careful…don’t spill that.” Jim took a sip and handed the glass back, then he undid the front of the sniper’s trousers, finally freeing his erection with a caressing hand. He kept his eyes on Sebastian’s and smiled slowly, showing the piece of ice trapped between his teeth for just a moment before ducking his head to drag the ice up the shaft of Sebastian’s cock.
Jesus, Jim was getting his workout tonight. Sebastian swallowed, shaking his head a bit before looking Jim in the eye as the man looked at him over his shoulder. His jaw clenched as he breathed out deeply. This was so fucking difficult. Maybe he shouldn’t have slid the glass around on Jim’s skin. Would that have changed anything? Sebastian doubted it. He just wanted a bit of release right now, but this was still a match.
And Sebastian, while not completely focused on winning, at least did not want to loose.
When Jim slipped down between his legs, Sebastian let himself be dragged forwards a few inches, easily sliding across the chair as Jim smiled at him. His eyebrows raised as Jim took the scotch from his hands and he knew his scar was a delicate new shade on his face as Jim finally undid his trousers, his erection finally exposed.
He groaned as the man pulled at his cock and then, when Jim smiled his mouth opened slightly. Oh fuck. This was only fair, he supposed. The ice in Jim’s mouth made his heart jump and his cock twitch uncomfortably. When the cold finally reached his prick Sebastian gasped, closed his eyes, pushed his hips up only slightly before he tensed his thighs and torso. He breathed out slowly as the ice was pulled away and his empty hand moved from the armrest to Jim’s hair.
“Haven’t you had enough games?” Sebastian asked, eyes bright, cheeks and neck flushed as his hand clenched in Jim’s hair.
jiminwestwood reblogged this from tigerjaw and added:
hands were viciously tight around Sebastian’s wrist...he moved himself on Sebastian’s...
tigerjaw reblogged this from jiminwestwood and added:
The change in Jim’s voice was visceral, Sebastian could feel it against his cock and in his mouth as the words came out....
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