Charles bent lower, his hips swaying with a confident, rhythmic swagger that sent a ripple through his muscles before he straightened up.
With a sleek grace, he snatched a wine flute from a passing waiter's tray. He drained the glass greedily, the liquid fueling his fire, before he suddenly hauled Norman flush against his body.
Without a word, he slammed his lips onto Norman's, drinking him in and slickly transferring the remaining wine from his mouth to the other man's in a bold, intoxicating exchange.
The heat intensified instantly as Thomas moved in to claim his share. Both men crashed against Charles's lips, their tongues tangling and exploring every corner of the young man's mouth. It was a wild, desperate collision of breath and desire.
Without breaking the tension, Thomas swept Charles off his feet and carried him away from the crowd, heading straight for the VIP section—a secluded, hidden room tucked away from the noise.
