Ansel groaned, a raw, guttural sound of release, his fingers tightening in Lance's hair as he emptied himself.
Lance swallowed convulsively, the act intimate and submissive, taking everything Ansel gave him.
When Ansel finally pulled out, he was spent, breathing heavily. He looked down at Lance, who was on his knees, lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed, eyes dazed.
Ansel used his thumb to wipe a stray droplet from the corner of Lance's mouth.
"Good.." he said, his voice hoarse. "So fucking good." He glanced at the tent in Lance's shorts, a cruel smile touching his lips.
"But we're not done. I told you I wasn't leaving until you're wasted. Get on the bed. On your back. I want to watch you finish yourself while you still taste me."
Lance complied, his body still trembling from the earlier assault, as he crawled onto the bed and lay back on the rumpled sheets.
