Though he feels Yussa's hips lifting beneath his hands, Caleb is still unable to stop the desperate groan that breaks free from somewhere low in his chest when the wet heat of Yussa's cunt seeps through the fabric between them. It both is and isn't a tease; Yussa puts real intent behind the slow grind, and it is distractingly good, especially as the first real contact his dick has gotten all night. Caleb is very aware that he could come like this--it probably wouldn't even take long. But there is also more on offer.

"Yes," he breathes, predictably. Who could say no to that? They're so close he can feel Yussa's words against his lips. His hands squeeze his hips almost restlessly, but then his grip gets firm, and Caleb grinds back. As Yussa's hips lift, his drop, and his cock thrusts slow and sweet along his slit. Caleb shudders. The fabric between them is more than damp. "Very badly."

When he was giving head in the bathroom, Caleb would have been perfectly content to return to the club without coming at all. So anything more than that is just extra--or so he thought. But now Yussa is dangling before him what he aches for most (of course it is; he doesn't mind being predictable in this) and Caleb wants.