Jacob's skin flushes, little beads of sweat appearing on his shoulders. He bites a moan into his arm, squirming almost unconsciously in an effort to seek some relief, all parts of him aching.
"This is torture," he breathes, but he doesn't tell him to stop. He doesn't want him to.
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"This is torture," he breathes, but he doesn't tell him to stop. He doesn't want him to.