Dahmer sat perfectly still in the center of the massive mattress, his wet lips parted slightly as he watched Malcolm's panicked chest heave. The heavy, sweet syrup from the candy they had just shared still lingered in the air, mixing with the thick, suffocating pheromones of their frequencies. Beneath his dark visor, Dahmer's silver eyes tracked the violent trembling in Malcolm's hands and the undeniable, brutal ridge straining hard against the fabric of his trousers.
"Look at yourself, Malcolm," Dahmer said, his natural, deep voice dropping into a low, smooth purr that filled the quiet bedroom. "You are screaming at me to stop, yet your biology is completely rewriting your protests. Since you are already so intensely excited down there, and I am in the exact same state beneath you, there is no logic in fighting it. We should just help each other out. There is no shame in it. Besides... we are soulmates. Your body already knows my frequency."
