Frank let Ronan strip off his shirt. He had new scars underneath, MURDER bold near his chest and up to his shoulder, and a myriad of other, smaller things from the nightmares and just from being in Hell.

He admired him, sprawled on the bed, stripped of everything. He scraped his fingers slowly up his thighs, across his stomach. Tantalizing little bits of touch.

After a moment of touch, he sank down between Ronan's legs. He lapped at the root of his cock, stroking him lazily. His mouth was curved slightly, an almost teasing smile. "Are you going to be a good boy for me, Ronan?"