It shouldn't have felt so good but it was like Drake's tongue had opened the floodgates. The way Drake felt, the way he tasted, but it was too easy for Ryah to forget himself, to forget where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. Instead, he found himself consumed by a strange heat that started in his belly and curled its way through him, setting fire to his blood, sparking electricity over his skin.<br/><br/>Unable to help himself, Ryah ran a hand down Drake's back, fingers skimming over smooth skin where the crop top ended, where the top of his leather pants started. His own felt uncomfortably tight, his cock hard in his jeans, and he wanted--he wanted--<br/><br/>Tearing himself away, Ryah stared at the other male, his chest heaving, his breath stolen away. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire. Without even realizing it, his fingers had dug into Drake's skin, leaving faint marks. Christ, what the hell was he doing? He took a step back, his cheeks gone dark red.