Yussa drops a hand to his own mouth, pressing the back of it to his hips in an attempt to hold back some of the more unrestrained sounds threatening to break from him. It's a fool's errand, but he tries anyway.

Caleb's accent is heavy and the way it affects the quality of his voice is terribly attractive. Yussa bites his index finger but still whines as Caleb's thumb strokes over his clit, offering steady and direct attention. He can feel the sweet tension coiling in him as he's pushed toward his peak. Caleb has been so diligent with him and there is really no denying where this is going. His thighs tremble as he arches toward Caleb's touch and his cock: every stroke makes his hips move to chase that perfect friction until muscles tremble with the effort.

A ragged moan escapes him as he struggles not to get completely swept up yet. Not when they have both been waiting for this. It's difficult to resist his own rising pleasure, though. The crest is as inevitable as any tide.