Kavinsky gasped, sputtering just a little when Jack pulled him off, and aching for it, desperation and hunger written across his face. He sagged, just a touch, tried to lean in to get more of Jack's cock, but the grip on his head was deliciously firm.

"In me," he said, thick with wanting and the accent he worked consistently to suppress. "God, fuck, in my mouth? In my--my ass, wherever, just--"