"You're disgusting," he mutters, eyes narrowed into slits as he presses the smouldering end of his cigarette between the other's pale shoulder blades.
He makes a noise cross between a whine and a cry as the small flame presses against sensitive skin in a place he knows he can’t reach, unprotected, soft and he jolts in place, but knows better than to try and move. Part way he’s muffled as he bites down upon lip as he hears himself, body tensing, but still reacting. Saving grace being that he was on his chest less he reactions be more visible – or would the humiliation of that be just as exciting as this?
It hurts the longer it’s there, body trembles with both fear and desire, and exasperated face is hot and flushed against the cold floor, breathing heavy as he tries not to laugh. He’s smiling between winces, it’s painful and even as he pants he can’t help the soft chuckle at the other’s words.
“yes… yes, I am,” he whispers, the pain gone just as quickly as it appeared and the rush was dissipating.
Would it be wrong to ask for another? Hands opened, stretched and clenched repeatedly, waiting – excited – how right the man was, more than he knew.
“I am absolutely filthy.”