Malcolm didn't listen. The terrifyingly hot sensation of Dahmer's thick, awakening shaft pressing directly into the sensitive cleft of his buttocks sent a jolt of panic straight through his S-tier system. Even with his muscles screaming in exhaustion, his traditional pride flared into a desperate, defensive frenzy. He began frantically wiggling his butt against Dahmer's lap, twisting his narrow waist and clawing at the Enigma's wrists as he tried to forcibly yank himself away from the suffocatingly close contact.
"Let me go! Fuck... get your hands off me, you absolute psychopath!" Malcolm snarled, his voice a raw, breathless friction that vibrated through the quiet morning air.
