Kenneth was lifted off the ground before he could even tell Lucien to make good on his promise and pay up.
The Striker threw him on his back without so much as a huff or a sweat and sauntered toward the bedroom at a speed and grace befitting of a Striker. He threw him on the bed, tore off his clothes, before dropping his mouth down on his dick.
He deep-throated Kenneth in one swift move, leaving the Anchor shell-shocked as he felt Lucien's warmth engulf him.
Electricity rushed through Kenneth's body as his eyes and mouth went wide.
Lucien worked him over, sucking deep.
His hands shot forward, roping into his hair, one palm curling over the back of his head. "Fuck," he cursed, "what the actually fuck."
He felt Lucien smile against his arousal as he sucked him ravenously, like he was a man on a mission.
His tongue spiraled along his shaft, licking, flicking, and stroking as he went, making Kenneth's thighs shake as he breaths came out in sharp, shallow bursts.
