Page 105 of Contested

Sebastian paused as Marcos’ palm settled over his bulge, warm and broad through the red fabric.

His breath caught.

“You don’t have—” Sebastian started, but Marcos cut in, voice even rougher.

“Shut up.”

Marcos’ hand pressed firmer against him.

Sebastian looked down, watching Marcos palm him through the briefs with slow, uneven strokes. His touch was clumsy. But the intent was there. Marcos’ fingers dragged over the outline of Sebastian’s cock through the fabric, then circled back and pressed again.

Sebastian’s hands returned to Marcos’ body, one sliding over his ass, the other moving beneath him again. He stroked Marcos from behind, fingers slick with oil, palm dragging over the shaft. Marcos groaned into the table, and his hand tightened over Sebastian’s briefs in response.

The rhythm built between them slowly.

Sebastian’s fingers circled Marcos’ hole, and Marcos’ palm rubbed over Sebastian’s cock. Sebastian slid down to stroke him, and Marcos’ hand lost rhythm before finding it again. Each time Sebastian touched his ass, Marcos pressed harder. Each time Marcos pressed harder, Sebastian’s own control thinned.

Marcos’ hand was warm through his briefs, and the fabric dragged against Sebastian’s cock with every rough pass. Sebastian’s knees felt less reliable than they should have, and when Marcos’ fingers curled around him through the red material, Sebastian had to swallow before he could speak.

“Alright, turn over,” Sebastian said.

Marcos didn’t wait, pushing himself up and turning over. His cock rested heavily on his stomach, leaking even more. As he settled, his hand found Sebastian’s waistband again and tugged at it.

“Take them off,” he muttered, eyelids half-closed, mouth twitching.

Sebastian did what he was told, taking his briefs off and placing them with the rest of his clothes. Marcos’ hand found his cock right away, running up the length of it.

“Good boy,” Marcos mimicked, and Sebastian’s cock twitched. “Oh, you like that, too?”

Sebastian didn’t respond and just rolled his eyes, walking back down to the foot of the massage table. His hands settled on Marcos’ ankles, thumbs brushing over the skin above his heels before sliding slowly higher.

Marcos lay bare in front of him, oil still shining across his thighs, cock heavy against his stomach.

Sebastian’s grip tightened around Marcos’ ankles, planning what to do next.

|| Chapter Twenty-Three ||

Sebastian – “Please”

Sebastian started differently this time. Not the same careful press and release he had used when Marcos was face down, not the same measured pressure through tight calves and sore muscle. Marcos was watching him now, eyes half-lidded and fixed on him from the table, his body open in a way that made the room feel warmer than the heater could explain.

Sebastian kept his palms around Marcos’ ankles briefly, thumbs sliding over the tendons there, then slid higher. Over the fronts of his lower legs. Around the shape of his calves. Up to the inside of his knees where Marcos’ thighs parted beneath his touch.

His palms travelled up Marcos’ thighs, slower through the inside, fingers pressing into muscle. Marcos’ legs shifted under his hands, opening enough to let Sebastian’s hand slide up against his ass.

Sebastian stared at him as his hand moved over Marcos’ balls.

Marcos’ mouth parted.

The reaction fed something low in Sebastian’s stomach. He cupped him gently at first, then dragged his palm up the underside of Marcos’ cock, oil still slick on his fingers and the skin beneath them. Marcos’ hips lifted into the touch, and Sebastian let him have one slow stroke before pulling away again.

He went back down to Marcos’ thighs, working the muscle as if this was still only a massage, thumbs circling near the crease where leg met hip before sliding lower. Marcos gave a rough breath when Sebastian’s hand returned to his cock, and this time Sebastian didn’t grip. He let his palm flatten over the length, pressing him lightly against his stomach, then smoothed back down over his balls and inner thigh.

Marcos’ head tipped back against the table.

Sebastian watched the line of his throat move with his swallow. Then he paused, walking up to the head of the table, letting his hands rest on Marcos’ shoulders. His own cock pressed against the edge of the table.

Marcos’ chest rose hard with every breath, and as Sebastian looked down at him upside down, Marcos’ eyes opened fully again.