“Do I fucking stutter?” he gasped, hips arching up as Aryan’s thumb brushed his leaking tip, smearing precum between them.
The sting of nails against Aryan’s scalp was sharp, anchoring. “I want to feel you—all of you—no more waiting.” Aryan exhaled sharply through his nose, his own cock throbbing where it pressed against Sahil’s thigh.
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