The plea hung in the air, a raw, vulnerable thing. Jin Yue's answer was not in words but in the arch of his back, the silent offering of his body. A tremor ran through Jun Kai, a visible shudder of that last, fraying thread of control snapping.
He did not take Jin Yue into his mouth again. Instead, his hands, which had been gripping Jin Yue's thighs, slid upward. His palms were rough against the smooth skin of Jin Yue's hips, his thumbs pressing into the sharp bone. He guided Jin Yue to turn, a firm but gentle pressure. Jin Yue hesitated, a flicker of confusion and fear tightening his muscles. But Jun Kai's touch was insistent, coaxing him with a low, reassuring murmur against his shoulder blade.
