Andrew was in a rush. He was in a rush to pleasure Maxwell, to hear him moaning, to feel him wrapped around his cock, his warmth squeezing him tightly, twitching as he found his own pleasure. Andrew also wanted to drown in his pheromones, his scent, and the way his skin felt under his lips.
"A-Andy. Why aren't you moving lower?" Maxwell's voice was raspy, and a little grumpy. Andrew chuckled.
He'd remained just above his underwear line, his lips kissing and teasing his belly button, his stomach, his waist. He'd been focused, intentionally working Maxwell up until he couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't quite there yet, but from his tone, Andrew could tell he was getting close.
He smiled against the skin against his lips, pressing another kiss there.
