WILL’S POV

Father Michael’s lips curled into something feral, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction as he stared down at me with my tongue out and  cheeks flushed, my whole appearance practically begging without saying another word.

“Good fucking boy.”

He fisted the base of his cock, slick and shining from both our mouths, and dragged the swollen head across my tongue again letting me taste the mix of spit and pre-cum and the faint salt of Baron’s throat. 

Then he shifted his grip to my hair, yanking my head back just enough to force my eyes up to meet his.

“Both of you. Side by side. Tongues out. Now.”...