Malcolm's fingers slammed down into the back of Dahmer's soft hair, gripping the strands firmly. He took control, anchoring Dahmer's head and guiding the rhythm of those wet, hot suction movements down his throbbed length. A low, gravelly groan vibrated from deep within Malcolm's chest as his head snapped back against the recline of the leather seat.
"It seems your delicate, pretty boy looks really do fit you after all," Malcolm rasped, his voice heavy with a dark, surging dominance as he forced Dahmer's mouth deeper down his shaft. "It looks like you actually want to be dominated."
Dahmer didn't pull back from the thick steel filling his mouth. His eyes looked up through dark lashes, glistening with a manic, unholy heat as he swallowed past the crown. He let out a muffled, wet hum before sliding his lips up slightly to speak, his hot breath washing over the sensitive head.
