Page 93 of Psychopath

He should’ve resisted, but he just couldn’t.

Zane smiled, then he slipped from the bed. He dropped down to the floor, shuffled closer, before resting both hands on Quinn’s thighs.

“Oh God,” Quinn whispered, all his blood rushed south at that singular sight of Zane Black on his knees.

Zane opened Quinn’s legs and knelt between them.

“You’ll have to watch the door,” Zane murmured. “And you’ll have to keep yourself quiet today.”

“Zane, I—”

“Fourteen minutes.”

Quinn bit his lip, halting any more protests. Zane read that as an encouragement and picked open the catch on his trousers. Quinn shivered when Zane made eye contact and ran his tongue up the zip.

Zane leaned back. “Does it turn you on, seeing me like this?”

Zane on his knees would turn anyone on, but then he elaborated. “Back in my prison greys.” He yanked down Quinn’s zip. “After being caught red-handed up in my cell.”

Quinn slapped his hand to his mouth, watching the door, heart in his throat in case David appeared just as Zane tugged his trousers and boxers down enough to release the pressure on his crotch.

“I won’t stop,” Zane said softly. “Not even if David comes over. I’ll blow you in front of him. I don’t care. I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

He took the head of Quinn’s cock into his mouth and sucked. There were too many clothes. Quinn still had his trousers and boxers on, and there wasn’t much room for Zane to work, but the rub of cotton on his cock, the catch of the zip against his pubic hair, made the soft suction to his tip even more intense.

Quinn eased himself back until his shoulders were against the wall. He needed both hands to muffle himself, and Zane was right… The prison issue clothes, the wild look about him, even Zane’s bent bare feet on the concrete were adding to the thrill.

Quinn lifted his hips from the bed, and the smile he got from Zane was wicked. He pulled Quinn’s trousers and boxers down his thighs, exposing Quinn’s cock fully. Zane wasn’t satisfied with Quinn’s clothes at his knees; he tugged until they were around his ankles, then pressed a knee down on them, pinning them to the floor.

“Knowing you shouldn’t be doing this makes it feel that little bit better, doesn’t it?”

Quinn wanted to protest, but Zane slid his lips down his cock, taking him deep, soothing the irritation from the rubbing cotton. It was heaven. His mouth was warm and silk-like, sliding up and down Quinn’s cock in a steady, sure rhythm.

Quinn’s eyelashes fluttered when he imagined what it must look like from the doorway, the scene that would greet David if he happened to check on them early.

He lay awkwardly on the bed, smothering his own mouth with both hands, flaring his nostrils as he tried to take in enough oxygen to stay conscious. His trousers and boxers around his ankles, nailed to the floor by Zane’s knee, and Zane, all in grey, swept-back hair coming loose as he bobbed his head, relentlessly sucking.

It was wrong, obscene, but Quinn couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling back in his head. The pressure steadily building had hit a peak of no return, and Zane brushing a hand beneath Quinn’s shirt and locating a nipple sent him crashing over the edge. It was a sharp sting followed by such intense pleasure Quinn’s hands slipped from his lips, and he let out a moan. Zane pulled his mouth from Quinn’s cock, eyes wide as he slapped a hand to Quinn’s mouth.

Quinn’s cock jerked pitifully without a hand or a mouth, shooting cum that landed out of sight. Zane stiffened, watching the door with wide eyes. They both waited for footsteps, but none came.

Zane exhaled a long breath and lifted his hand. “It’s like you want to get caught with your cock in my mouth.” He chuckled. “I’m going to have to gag you next time, aren’t I?”

Quinn shut his eyes. It shouldn’t have sounded as hot as it did.

“You taste really good, Quinn,” Zane murmured. He licked a drop of cum from Quinn’s slit.

Then his mouth was on Quinn’s a second later, and he let Quinn taste what he did. At first, Quinn cringed at the bitter taste of himself in Zane’s mouth, but Zane kept coaxing and guiding, and reluctance flipped into a desperate need to kiss deeper, and taste longer, and Quinn clutched at Zane.

Zane was still kneeling on the floor, thigh sticky with Quinn’s cum. The prison greys, the fact Zane was lower than him, stretching to reach his mouth, made Quinn groan and move out of reach, tease with sweet kisses Zane wanted to deepen. He could’ve stayed kissing Zane like that, breaking off just to look at his face, his blown-wide pupils and his slightly parted lips.

Zane pulled away first. “Three minutes.”

Quinn checked his watch. “Shit.”

“You’d better pull up your boxers,” Zane said, backing off. He stood up. Cum glistened on his joggers, and he reached absent-mindedly for the toilet roll.

“What about you?” Quinn asked, eyeing Zane’s trapped cock.

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