Max trembled as Jasper’s calloused hands travelled firmly over his body, coming to rest on Max’s hips. Jasper tugged Max toward him the last inch or two. Max followed willingly. They pressed up against one another, the pressure so welcome, so satisfying, and yet, not satisfying at all. Jasper moved to Max’s ear, kissing and caressing, even nipping softly. Max shuddered, a wave of bliss coursing through him, foreshadowing pleasures to come. Jasper wedged his fingers between them at Max’s neck, unfastening the top button of Max’s shirt. He exposed the tiniest bit of throat, kissing and licking as he reached for another button. Max pulled away, panting and dizzy. “Let’s move to the divan,” Jasper whispered before taking Max’s earlobe between his teeth. “Yes,” Max agreed. Then, “No. No!” He yanked himself from Jasper’s embrace. “I can’t. We can’t.” His voice broke, and he stood, half bent, clutching his gut like a man in pain. He’d felt so complete in the circle of Jasper’s arms, safe, cherished. But at the same time, as if he were caught in a trap. How could he bear such conflicting emotions?
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