Here...” Roth spoke, his finger playing with Jacob's lower lip, asking for permission. Jacob went as silent as statue, waiting for the finger to be removed. When it had, he never protested, allowing Roth to replace it with the softness of his own lips. A tiny whimper left Jacob's lips as they made contact. Roth was not harsh, but his lips did push at Jacob's, causing the young man to sink further into the chair. And Roth followed, settling on top of Jacob's legs until he was quite content in his position. Hands grabbed at Jacob's hair like Roth was expecting him to vanish like he was an angel that had to return to the heavens, because Jacob was too good for this world, and even Roth did not feel worthy of such a creature. A grin materialized on his lips when he felt Jacob's hands grab awkwardly at his clothes like a desperate child. It was impossible not to adore him, and anyone who disagreed were wrong. Jacob could feel himself overheating, his lungs longing for air, his mind too. Roth knew this, allowing his lips to abandon Jacob's. Hopefully, there would be more opportunities. He pulled away, examining Jacob with lustful eyes. He particularly took delight in the shade of colour that radiated from Jacob's face. A work of art.