He woke up lazily, awareness slowly drifting in his consciousness.
The sunlight pooling behind his eyelids. The soft rustle of his bed sheets. The warmth. The fragrance. The pressure. The soft sound of someone breathing in his ear.
Contact.
Wetness on his neck. A velvet voice issuing a gentle command. He was all too willing to comply.
"Close your eyes."
He felt the mattress shift as the voice-owner adjusted his position. The pressure alleviated. He was being unhurriedly undressed. The cool air drew goose bumps on his skin as it contrasted with the warm breath wafting over him.
"Keep them close."
The supple lips ghosted over his body, leaving in its wake a yearning for a deeper touch. Tightening.
"Don't cheat. Yet."
Ah, a promise. He enjoyed promises. Promises of pain. Promises of belonging. Promises of attention. But above all, he enjoyed this kind of promises. They whispered of pleasure. So unused to them. So blissful. Moisture. Kisses, his mind supplied. His lover ran the tip of his tongue along his neck, agonizingly slowly and he tilted his head instinctively to offer better access. He expertly nibbled on his ear, long enough that he had trouble controlling his breathing to not pant. His hand tangled locks of blond hair around his fingers, pulling oh-so-slightly, just enough to be appealing. He took a steadying breath and the other chuckled good-naturedly before raking his fingers along his ribcage. Shivers. He dropped sultry kisses on his jaw line, following an invisible path downwards. He licked the scars on his throat, one letter after another, taking his time, having all the time in the world. His way to tell him he was loved wholly, unconditionally. He hungrily nipped at him just below his collarbone and set about leaving a love bite there. Sweet marks of ownership. Possessiveness. Down he went still and sucked eagerly on a nipple. He teased, and teased until it became almost painful. Heat. He felt feverish. He needed to touch him. He needed it so much his hands moved of their own accord to tangle themselves in his hair before trying to bring him level, granting him an unimpeded access to his lover's body. He needed the distraction. He had to wait. Together always. Redirect his thoughts to the other man. Curb the sensations, the desire, the need, the arousal. Keep himself in check. Control. Regulate. Restrain. Delay. But his hands were pushed away. Once. Twice. Thrice. Forcefully kept down.
"Hands off me," he heard him growl.
He gripped the bed sheets tightly. How was he to manage? His traitorous body arched into the hands on him, leaning towards them, silently asking for more, begging for the touch to never stop. Heat again. Stinging prickles of pleasurable pain or maybe painful pleasure, tormenting him benevolently.
"Stop thinking, Soubi," he crooned in his ear, his breath warm. His own hitched.
Order. That was an order, right? He should know orders. He should answer them. But thoughts had temporarily fled his mind and left him floating in a sensual haze. His lover's hand glided onto his inner thigh, eliciting an involuntary soft moan from him. A smug, delighted, sexy chuckle. Its vibration reverberated through their connected skins. The other man kissed him passionately, leaving the both of them breathless.
"Please," he rasped "let me —"
"Don't beg. Claim," was his only answer. And his hands resumed their dance on him, his skin a bundle of raw-sensitivity. Every cell was on fire. The pressure intensified. The tightening too.
"Go with it," he heard and knew he couldn't. He wouldn't. Maddening intensity.
"Not without you," he answered hoarsely, barely able to muster enough determination and breath to get the words out. His caresses were disruptive. Tantalizing. Mesmerizing. They robbed him of any willpower.
"Please, for me," the other murmured lasciviously and his nimble hands moved to more intimate places. He rained kisses over him, making any thought impossible. A scorching blaze. Desire overpowering everything. Need ruling over all.
"Surrender to me."
He knew all the most sensitive expanses of his skin. All the most sensuous spots of his body. He was clearly taking advantage of it and had apparently no qualms about doing it. Not a single patch of skin had been left untouched.
"Give in, Soubi." His hand on him again, stroking, turning, barely twisting, eliciting groans. His mouth on his throat again. On his chest. On his ribcage. Tracing patterns with his tongue. Nibbling. Kissing. Licking him. Down again. He arched his back and panted. He wouldn't be able to wait.
"Ritsuka, I can't —" he gasped, as his lover's hands and kisses robbed him of his words. Yet again.
"I hope so."
He came into his deft hands, the chuckle of the other man light and merry. Pleased with himself.
"Open your eyes." How could such a small act be so difficult? It took all his concentration but the twinkling violet orbs boring into his were rewarding.
"Anything for you," his dark-haired lover said. He kissed him again, deeply but softly, tenderly. The heat had died down. "I love you."