You cup his cheek gently and smile down at him- a warm smile that he mirrors unabashedly.
"You're such a good boy," You murmur, unable to tear your eyes from his. You stroke your thumb across his cheekbone, gazing through your eyelashes. Hearing this, his lips part gently and he exhales, a surprised and excited little sigh that asks you to continue. His eyes do not leave yours.
You chuckle slightly, your grin widening. "You really do look like a little puppy, you know that?" At these words, he's practically glowing. "The way you're looking at me. You're like a little puppy, looking up at his owner."
His cheeks now bright pink, he momentarily breaks your gaze, looking down at your thumb stroking his cheek. He then tilts his head and slips your thumb into his mouth, returning his gaze to yours, now sucking gently on your finger.
Fuck, You can't help but inhale in surprise, he's so good. He's such a good boy.
You give him more of what he wants, and position your hand so that your pointer finger and your middle finger are brushing against his lip, teasing the entrance of his mouth. You can practically hear his thoughts, how he's begging for you to let him suck on your fingers.
But alas, you can't help yourself. You take several moments to admire him, your boy, as you ever-so-gently take his bottom lip between your fingers, stroking it just for the sake of feeling its softness.
Corrin gazes forward, clearly unable to process his thoughts properly, and then up at you. The sight alone is enough to send you to ecstasy. His cheeks red, his eyes glazed over, his mouth open.
He can't help himself. On his own, he opens his mouth just enough to slide his tongue between your fingers, desperate for the feeling that you're teasing him with.
A mere look is enough to put him in his place. You raise your eyebrows at him and tilt your head to the side slightly, a look that, without words, expresses the idea of, "do you really want to do that?"
Corrin behaves and holds his tongue, yet as he is still desperate, he continues to beg silently with his eyes, unable to tear his gaze from yours. Just a for a second is all he needs. He just needs the feeling. The feeling of something in his mouth for him to suckle on.
The poor thing is too cute like this. You don't have it in you to be cruel any longer. Your stern expression becomes a warm one, as you find yourself grinning down at the boy in front of you, who looks like he may cry. With your other hand, you cup the side of his cheek, and he leans into it. He's starved for affection. His lips part once more, and you concede.
Caressing him with one hand, you slide your fingers between his lips and into his mouth. His eyes suddenly shining bright, he practically breaks, and begins sliding and swirling his tongue all around your two fingers, his eyes nearly rolled back into his head. He sucks your fingers, his head moving in a particularly obscene way that brings a blush to your own cheeks. Watching him is like porn. He's like a living, breathing wet dream.
You sigh, suddenly feeling an ache between your legs. The hand cupping his cheek slides behind his head, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, the entire situation becoming dirtier each second. Corrin can't help but be noisy; he moans around your fingers and squeezes his legs together, visibly hard. He does not touch himself- not without permission at least. Anyone could tell by how he twists his hips, his legs nearly shaking, becoming weaker each second. Seeing the newfound bulge between his legs only confirms the previous aches you felt between your own, and you suddenly decide that this isn't enough.
To his horror, you suddenly remove your fingers from his mouth and, from the edge of the bed where you had been sitting, you slide all the way back, laying against the headboard. Corrin, still kneeling at the end on the ground, stares at you in confusion.
You smile fondly and pat your own body, gesturing him forward.
"Come here, puppy."
He practically perks up, like an actual dog, and crawls onto the bed towards you, stopping when he is holding himself up directly on top of you. You don't admit it, but the sight of him doing this, a gesture that visually contradicts all of your play involving him a begging mess, makes your heart skip.
You gaze at the bulge between his legs, quite large after all the finger-sucking beforehand, and gently trail a finger along it. Corrin visibly shivers and exhales, waiting desperately for your next word.
"Hold yourself up, with your elbows at either side of my body." You gently order, a small grin decorating your face. He is already doing this, so he merely shifts his body slightly, preparing for however long he's required to hold this position. "Good," you praise him, and he meets your eyes with a genuine smile, glad to have done something to please you.
You smile at him, appreciating his obedience, and gently order him, "take it out."
He exhales, his breath brushing against your skin, and with a shaky hand, he slides his underwear off, tossing them out of sight and mind. There he hangs, dripping and aching to be touched. Without words, he is screaming to you.
With one finger, you trail down his chest, his abdomen, and finally just above his cock. You don't quite touch it, merely teasing the area around it. Corrin's breath is hitched and quick, his head hanging below his body to get a view, his soft white hair completely in your face. His watchful eyes are locked onto your finger, with no plans of breaking his gaze. That is, until you tilt his head up with your other hand, one finger gently raising his chin so that your eyes meet his.
"Do you want it?" You ask him, sounding more like a teacher or a parent than anything. Corrin merely nods his head and breathes something that could be perceived as a "yes". His answer isn't quite enough for you, though, and you stiffly hold his chin, while also tightening a gentle yet firm grip around the base of his cock. He nearly cries out, his head threatening to hang low once again. You don't allow this.
"Use your words, puppy…" you coo, doing your best to contradict your gentle words with your firm actions.
For the first time in what feels like ages, he speaks, properly.
"Y-yes…" He whispers, unable to look you in the eyes. You feel your own eyes darken as you know this won't suffice.
"Yes, what?" You inquire, your patient tone unwavering.
"Yes, I want it…" He begins to moan now, his cock dripping onto your body below him. It's crying for you, how cute.
A sufficient answer. He's done well enough. But you haven't had quite enough fun yet.
"You want what?" You're beginning to feel absolutely evil. But you can't help yourself. The way he moans, the way he looks at you, the way his ears are cherry red- it should be a crime to be this desirable.
Corrin is visibly frustrated. He sighs- a hard, aggravated sound that fits nicely with his furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw. You love when he gets like this. He's just adorable. Like a puppy who can't get what he wants.
Despite his frustration, his shyness remains, and he has difficulty describing to you quite what he wants. You don't force it out of him by any means, but you're certainly not moving an inch until he speaks up.
"I want you to t-touch me…" His voice is halfway between a whisper and a moan. You know him well enough to know that this is turning him on to all hell. He's dirtier than anyone knows, except you of course. "Touch my.. c-cock..." He struggles calling his own member such a filthy word.
It's adorable to you how he can't even manage any creativity with his requests. Touch your cock? That could mean anything. I'm offering anything and that's the most complex you can get? You couldn't help but chuckle.
You lean forward and, cupping one side of his face with your hand, you nibble his other ear and murmur to him, "that's a good boy."
A little moan escapes his lips; he can't help it. Such a dirty voice so close to his ear. No porn on earth could possible contest with this. With that, your hand begins stroking him- long, drawn gestures that couldn't possibly be tight enough or fast enough to satisfy him properly. Well, all you said was to touch it after all, am I not doing just that?
The look on his face is a payoff of its own. He bites his lip and scrunches his eyebrows, his eyes shut- this is unbearable. Anyone looking upon this situation would call you a sadist, torturing this poor thing to no end. But if anyone knows the dirty mind of this boy, it's you. And you know that the way to do it involves milking the situation as long as possible. He loves begging. He loves being teased. Such a dirty thing.
He knows that anything he wants is waiting for him, at his words. It's simply an issue of that- his words. He's too embarrassed to form any.
Your hand holding his chin moves to behind his head, desperate for any opportunity to bury your fingers in that soft hair of his. As soon as your grip leaves, however, he weakly hangs his head. You grin in absolute delight; he's too desperate to even hold himself up properly.
"Harder…" He groans. It's all he can manage. It hits your soft spot, and you can't help but give him what he wants.
Your grip tightens, and you begin rhythmically stroking him up and down, his precum nearly a lube of its own.
"H-hah~!" Right after, he loses control of his voice and emits a shaky yelp; you feel yourself wanting to squeeze your own legs together as Corrin was not long ago. His hair in your face, his leaking cock, the sweat now forming on both of your bodies… it's as you thought- a living wet dream.
To the rhythm of your stroking, you notice that he begins to thrust his hips slightly, almost in a way that causes him to fuck your hand, in a sense. From how desperate he was earlier, it's nearly enough for him to climax, and you sense it. His breathing and pacing quicken, his moans beginning to heighten in pitch.
Suddenly pinching his cock just below his head, forcing him to a stop, you grip a handful of that soft, white hair and yank his eyes to meet yours. You weren't quite prepared for how utterly lewd this boy looked. His eyes half-lidded and glazed over, his entire face a dark shade of red, his hair an absolute mess, and- what's that? Yes, that's definitely drool, making its way down from the corner of his reddened lips to his chin.
You close the short distance between you two, pressing your foreheads together, though a little bit firmer than Corrin probably expected.
"You finish when I give you permission." You order, your grip tight on both his hair and his cock. "Do you understand?"
He nods, but you're not sure if he even heard you properly, from the way his eyes seem to look past you. Perhaps he's too far gone; perhaps the only solution is to give him what he wants.
You move your hand again, and his hips pick right up where they left off, thrusting in time with your hand, desperate for the sensation of fucking something, anything. Weak, and unable to control himself, his head begins to lower again and you swear you see his tongue hanging from his mouth, his jaw slack. You feel your stomach twist, and you're filled with a dark satisfaction; you bet he loves being a puppy even more than you love making him one.
Nearly immediately, you notice the same signs as before- the quickening of his breathing and his pace, his moans sounding more and more desperate. You swear this boy had never been touched in his life before you came along, judging from his endurance.
You know that even if you'd told him to stop- if you ordered him- he wouldn't. At this point, you could tell him anything and he'd believe it.
"You're my doggie," you breathe, both of you panting and moving quickly. You, like Corrin, can hardly control what you're saying.
Without looking up at you, his head hanging down and his hips still thrusting, he murmurs back, "I'm your doggie."
You feel a sharp pressure between your legs- it's too good. You need to hear it again.
Grabbing his hair once more, you yank his head back so he's forced to make eye contact. "Again," you order, your own voice becoming desperate.
"I'm your doggie," he repeats, without skipping a beat. His tongue is nearly hanging out of his mouth, drool undoubtedly dribbling down his cheek once again. "I'm your doggie."
"Fuck," you mutter under your breath. Your legs still squirming, all you care about at this point is making Corrin cum. "Do it."
Your hand leaves his head and grips his hip, your nail digging in. Your pacing quickens. He cries out, his own pacing becoming uneven, yet no less quick. His moans and thrusts rise to a peak, his rhythmic cries also rising in pitch.
"I'm your d- d-ahh~!" He howls, his own climax taking him by surprise. His back arches, and you feel his body begin to tremble above you, and in your hands. His legs are hardly able to sustain his own weight. At last, he cums onto your chest and abdomen, painting your body with his milk. His cries- high pitched, feminine, and loud- could contest the singing of angels. Wave after wave overtakes him as he slowly lowers himself onto you- head and chest first, his ass still in the air. Then gently, he lowers his knees as well, and he is merely laying on top of your body, still panting heavily, as if he'd just run a mile in the rain. It's like recovering after seeing God's face.
Slowly but surely, his breathing steadies, and he lays grinning in the afterglow of his own pleasure, a little grin tugging on his cheeks. You can only watch him. With your clean hand, you bury your fingers through his hair once more, softly brushing it out of his eyes and behind his ear. From his position laying on your chest, he looks up at you, purring as you preen him. He's perfect like this, flawless.
You trail your other hand along his bare back, circling his hip, caressing his waist. You want to touch him everywhere. He just watches the features of your face as you do this- he looks like he may fall asleep. He looks like an angel. He looks like a puppy.
You smile at him once more and tilt your head, running your fingers through his hair.
"Good boy."