The pace of Caleb's demanding thrusts falters with Yussa's gasped pleas, with the way his cunt bears down and tightens. He gives a ragged moan, swept up by Yussa's pleasure, by his own. He fucks him for as long as he can, savoring the twitching and trembling of his body as he makes himself come. The tension in his own body rises fast on the heels of Yussa's orgasm, and Caleb sees no reason to delay it again. His lips leaves the other man's breasts to kiss him soundly on his panting mouth as he drives down into him with unrestrained need.

Heat prickles down his spine, his balls tighten, and his vision narrows to a dizzying focus on Yussa beneath him as all else fades. The narrow space between them is filled with their ragged breaths and the lewd noise of Caleb burying his cock deep into his lover's wet cunt again and again. His pleasure spikes, and he knows he is past the point of no return.

Surely Yussa must permit his clients to spill inside? Who could resist? But what if he doesn't? He has a vague thought of pulling out, of coming on his belly, his breasts, his face--but even as he wonders, it is already too late. He comes hard, his hips snapping forward to bottom out, cock pulsing deep within the perfect fluttering heat of Yussa's cunt.

His hips continue to rock as he spills, burying his face in the crook of Yussa's neck and muffling a low groan against his perfumed skin. Gods, this man--he knows with a terrible certainty that he'll spend any amount of coin to see him again.