His legs trembled, lines of fire racing through him. How was he this lucky? How was this his life? And then, Jack’s finger, already slick, slid past his balls. God, yes. Ethan lifted his leg, resting his foot gently on Jack’s shoulder. His toes curled, and then his foot, and he barely held back the quiver that jolted through him when Jack’s finger rubbed over his hole. He was warm, dizzy from too many sensations: the heat of the fire and the suction of Jack’s mouth, the press of Jack’s fingers against his entrance. The stretch. The thought of Jack, opening his body up― Jack had learned enough
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