Charles tilted his head back, looking up at him through his lashes. "I'm right here. Do you need anything? Are you hungry? I can go to the kitchen and cook something for you right now."
Mark's gaze darkened, a slow, predatory warmth igniting in his eyes. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive shell of Charles's ear as his voice dropped into a low, husky whisper.
"I missed you, baby... and yes, I'm starving. But it's not food I want." Mark's hands slid slowly down to rest on Charles's waist. "It's you I want to eat."
A sudden flush of crimson rushed up Charles's neck and flooded his cheeks. His breath hitched, a shy, breathless laugh escaping him as he turned slightly in Mark's arms. "Oh? And where exactly are you planning to eat me? Here on the living room sofa, or do you want to make it to our bedroom?"
