Caleb agrees with a low rumble, and does it again; anything that makes Yussa react that way is worth repeating.

Rather than continuing to move over his cunt, his tongue laps at warm, soft inner thighs instead, the movement quick and flickering, distinctly reptilian. He is cleaning the evidence of their previous round. The taste of Yussa's arousal and his own spend seeps through his senses, heightened in a way he's never experienced before.

"I could tell right away," he murmurs roughly, "that you were still dripping with my come. I could taste it."

He is working his way with eager determination back up toward his center, leaving tongue-bathed skin tingling with lingering static.