Kavinsky made a soft noise, acceptable and just a little pain, as Jack slapped him. It made his ear ring. It rattled pain up to the bruise on his other side. He breathed through it and licked his lips, leaving his head lulled to his shoulders in the aftermath.

"I want you," he murmured, a groan of a confessional moment. "I want to go home with rug burn, my ass all glowing from you slapping me. Want your cock so deep inside me I can taste it." He laughed softly, a lazy grin moving across his mouth as he tilted his head back and looked up at Jack. "I want you to fuck my face until my throat's raw. C'mon, maĭstor. Don't you want to make you your come dump?"