*Authors Notes* Yo yo yo yo- back again! More porn- more practice. Less descriptive- I was shooting for writing sensations in an erotic way. I find lots of fics lacking in this department. Let me know what you think. PS- Don't like? DON'T READ! 3 If you do, please review!

"Yes Bakura yes- ahh ha-ha ahh, please Bakura!" Marik cried, clinging desperately to the spirit above him. Bakura rocked him hard, bending him almost in half. Marik threw his head back, mouth open. His tongue rose up and down with each breath, looking for something to suck. He couldn't help it; his entire body was begging to be filled with some part of Bakura. Anything he could get, he would take. "Bakura- more OH!- more, fuck me- yes yes YES!" he screamed. He twisted his fingers into Bakura's hair, pulling, trying to force himself farther down upon him. The blondes body was aching in every single joint, every single inch of skin was alive with desire. His hips willingly lifted themselves, his pelvis grinding to Bakura's with each rough thrust. His entire body was slick with sweat, and each rivulet that ran along him was like a cool finger tip. Bakura's own finger tips were between Marik's legs, luxuriously pumping him. Delicate squeezes were applied with each pass up and down his member, making Marik almost incoherent with pleasure. His other hand was locked under the Egyptians lower back, assuring that the proper lift for maximum penetration was kept steady. Marik pulled on the sheets, head thrashing back and forth, biting his lip in anguish.

"Please Bakura- please, I-I can't-" Marik moaned, each wave of sensation driving him further and further into ecstasy. Bakura didn't answer him, but did bend his head down. With torturous slowness, he licked Marik's neck, nicked his jaw line with his teeth and then moved up to gently tongue his ear lobe.

" 'I can't' what?..." Bakura whispered thickly, adjusting himself again to suckle at Marik's neck. Over and over he pushed his tongue along the feverish skin beneath him, sampling the taste that WAS Marik.

"I can't wait, I-I can't s-stand it!— Please, take me- hah- ah-ah, more! Take me," Marik begged quietly, nuzzling his nose into Bakura's neck, letting out his breath with each inward thrust. Bakura smiled to himself at this. He continued to lazily pursue different places of Marik's neck and shoulders with his tongue, eliciting harsh shivers from the man underneath him.

"Deeper Bakura, oh- oh God, please, more, deeper, fuck me-" the blonde groaned, letting the request run into a whine at the end. Bakura's sure hand did as it was asked, raising Marik's hips. The hand sliding along his length paused momentarily and laid flat along his inner thigh, pushing his legs open even further.

Marik's breath stopped in pure, mind numbing pleasure as Bakura's entire shaft slid into him. Bakura made sure to hold the position for several, long seconds, resuming his work on Marik's member. Marik's eyes rolled back, and he tried to speak, but nothing would come out but a truncated breathy whisper. As Bakura began moving again, Marik's throat unstuck itself and he couldn't help but scream. The angle of the spirits entry hit the spot inside of Marik's own body that understood pleasure the most. Each tight thrust hit this same spot again and again and again…

"Bak-k-kura-" the blonde moaned weakly, hands seeking any part of the spirit they could find. He latched one onto Bakura's wrist between his legs, and the other again balled itself into his thick hair. Bakura simply continued at his even pace, breathing deeply, needing nothing more than the words in his ear to make him happy.

"Yes Marik?" he teased innocently, leaning over him and kissing his forehead. Marik brought his own lips to the whitenette's throat, tongue pushing into the shallow groove at the base.

"Please," was the wet whisper he got in reply, making him hiss in a sharp breath. Marik's hand was resting on the nape of his neck, and now it slid down his back, the nails biting into his skin. He loved that; it made him insane with want. But tonight, he was going to make the tomb keeper wait. He would spin out his nerves until they were ready to snap, and still he would make him wait, make him hold himself in. He wanted to try something, and he figured Marik wouldn't mind, considering the feedback he was receiving so far.

"Please. You keep saying please. Please what?" Bakura said, letting the breath of his words fan out along the underside of Marik's jaw line.

"Please, more, you're going so s-slow…. I can't take it," Marik whined lowly, a violent shiver arcing through him as Bakura again brought himself into the blonde, expertly nicking the hidden spot.

"Yes you can. Just wait," was all Bakura said. Marik's body tried to curl inward as the spirit again slowed his tempo, shortening his entries to hit the spot more frequently.

"BAKURA! NNNHhh, stop it! Fuck! Ah-ha-hhng! Stop, please!" he cried, eyes squeezed shut in pleasurable agony. His head tipped back and he brought his shoulders up, trying to pull his body inward. He thrashed his head again, violently shaking it for 'no', then stopped, moaning repeatedly into his shoulder. Bakura observed hazily as Marik licked his own skin, desperate for anything to fixate his mouth.

"First you tell me more, now you tell me stop- which is it, Ishtar?" Bakura growled, sitting himself up. He took Marik's hips in each hand, pulling him further into his lap. He parted his own knees a bit more and continued. The downward angle his now created was even steeper than before, and Marik lost ability to communicate again. Each thrust caused him to exhale with a sigh, and he lay there, hands lying limply on either side of his head.

"No…" he groaned, and his tongue again flicked out to lick his own shoulder. From his heightened view, Bakura could see most of Marik's body. He was beautiful, whether or not the blonde believed it. Bakura liked the color of his skin the best, although the shape of his waist was a close second. The tonal value was somewhere between bronze and taupe, not too yellow, but not too brown either. It wasn't pale, but a rich, vibrant hue that looked simply scintillating when wet… as it was now. Bakura's eyes wandered along the curve of Marik's waist, and into the planes of the hips in his hands. The bone structure there made a sharp, cutting v, because he was thin and because he was rather toned. The gentle swooping curve of Marik's ribs ran into the long surface of his stomach, which was smooth and flat, dipping only for the shapely belly button in the center. Bakura let his eyes trace the natural curvature of Marik's chest as he continued moving in him. He reached the sweeping collar bone, which was pronounced as the blonde shook and quivered with each breath. The hollow at the base of Marik's throat was arguably Bakura's favorite spot on the Egyptian, aside from the inside of his mouth. It was the perfect little place for a tongue to fit, and it never failed to get Marik excited. It had a good rise and fall when traced with finger tips, and it could hold an ice cube if need be…

The pressure Bakura was exacting upon himself by leveraging higher above Marik was becoming increasingly unbearable, and he thought perhaps he could soon execute his plan. It was difficult to do, but Bakura leaned over his lovers body and kissed the corner of his mouth, to catch his attention. The response was almost instantaneous, and suddenly their tongues were sliding over one another. Marik pulled himself up a tiny fraction, feverishly and urgently lapping at the back of Bakura's mouth. The tomb robber was a bit taken aback; he hadn't realized Marik could do that. In response, the whitenette growled deep in his throat, sending vibrations into the others mouth. The boy beneath him moaned back, and the feeling was incredible. Several times, the pair tried sharing vibrations, and each time, they slipped a bit further into conjoined pleasure.

Bakura broke the kiss first, and hovered his lips just about Mariks. The Egyptian lifted himself up a bit further, trying to recapture the warm mouth, but Bakura didn't let him. He pulled away a little bit more, and licked Marik's lips temptingly. The blonde again tried to follow, to catch Bakura's mouth. Once more, he pulled away, letting their breath mingle, sending out a teasingly wet lick, but not letting Marik back in. Marik groaned, mind split between what was happening between his legs and above his lips.

"You're teasing me," he whispered, sounding a bit distressed.

"Yes," Bakura affirmed, lowering himself into Marik, feeling the rush of air around his mouth as Marik gasped.

"W-why?" the blonde stuttered, almost too far lost in the haze of pleasure to respond. His hands again found Bakura, wrapping around the man's arms in boarder line desperation.

"I want you to come with me," Bakura breathed, keeping his pacing slow and even. He watched Marik's eyes open to look up at him, lips parted while he panted quietly.

"Go where?" he asked, confused. Bakura laughed low in his throat, his accompanying grin dark.

"No- come at the same time as me," the spirit explained, pushing his hips forward and carrying Marik's body with it. The blonde bit his lip, cutting off a harsh moan. His grip on Bakura's wrists tightened, and his eyes once again slipped shut as he tried to deal with the raw sensations. The man above him simply smiled, letting up slowly, oh so slowly.

"Bakura, please—please…" Marik begged, beseeching him with his eyes, once he got over the violent pressure.

"Wait for me-" was the reply he got, and he could do no more than cling to Bakura. The spirit shifted back over Marik, so their entire bodies touched. He caught Marik's moans in his mouth again, painstakingly drawing his tongue in and out, enticing the blonde to do the same. It wasn't a hard task, and soon they were both gone from the entire world, with nothing but each other. The soft sound of their bodies rubbing together, the shaky breathing and the equally alluring sound of Bakura sliding in and out was the only things that were real. Marik was the first to reach the very top of this understanding, shuddering in warning as he felt the welling of a powerful climax begin to take him.

"Bakura," he whispered feverishly. His fingers, entwined into the whitenette's hair, began to pull. The man in question didn't slow, or make any sign of acknowledgment other then to put his lips to the crux of the Egyptians neck and kiss.

"Nnhg—nghn- B-Bakura- I-" Marik tried again, more strained then before. Each touch inside of his body was unbearable, overwhelming. He knew he had no chance of stopping it, and that it would most likely hurt him for the first few moments when it hit. Bakura went so deep, and pushed so right, and touched just there, and stroked just so- he manipulated Marik's body to a tee. The blonde realized he was lightheaded, and had stopped breathing. He pulled in a sharp breath, choking out a small yelp on the exhale.

"Bakura!" he yelled, legs quivering now. He was going to come, it was almost there- he didn't know how to stop it, Bakura wasn't listening.

But the spirit WAS listening, and taking in the sweet pleas. He himself was close; dangerously so. The warmth inside of Marik's body was tempting him closer and closer, and doing a fucking good job at it.

"Wait for me," he growled again, a bit grated. He felt the tremors of the others body, and his own began to imitate. He slowed, thrusting evenly, lips pressed against the curve of Marik's neck. The blonde was positively quivering, hands pulling painfully tight in his hair. Yet he loved it- loved how desperately he could make Marik want him, how he could own him up and down.

"Bakura, I can't- Bakura, I'm sorry, no no, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'M SORRY PLEASE PLEASE!!-" Marik screamed, throwing his head back. Tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes, overwhelmed by the pleasure. He groaned through grated teeth, unable to breathe, his climax pressing on every nerve in him. He couldn't hold it, he was sitting right on the edge- he cried out again, desperate, senseless, screaming for the whitenette controlling him.

"Let me go Bakura! Please- NNNGH! STOP, LET ME GO!! Hhaa- AAHHhh—AH!" the blonde begged, clawing him in pure mindless anxiety. The pleasure was too much; it was numbing his body, shocking him out of coherency. He couldn't come- Bakura had told him to wait. He was clinging with all his might to the thought of 'waiting'. Bakura would tell him when, would help him over the edge, would be there to catch his downswing, Bakura would- Bakura would—

The spirit's spine prickled with the rush of his own peak, his lovers screams of agonizing want shoving him quicker then he almost could handle. With a violent shake and just a mere second to spare, he hissed, drawing his head back like a snake strike. He hovered his mouth over Marik's, took one ragged breath and stammered,

"Marik, go, Marik—go, GO, let GO!"

The blonde didn't even hear him finish, screaming as his climax shot through him, blinding him to everything. It hurt so badly at first that there was no pleasure- he could feel Bakura trying to catch his mouth in a kiss, but he couldn't respond. After an endless span of a few seconds, the luxurious waves of overpowering felicity began to rock him, and he couldn't help but moan for the person who did it to him.

Bakura watched through half lidded eyes as he came, pushing up into Marik harder than before. He bent him neatly in half, absorbed in the blondes shifting facial features, his hand squeezed tightly over Marik's member. He shuddered as his own member suddenly slid easier, more lubricated than before. He kissed each corner of the blonde's mouth, willing him to come back to him. He wanted to kiss him, to feel the other's eagerness. And damn it, did he- Marik's tongue flicked up into the spirit's mouth, engaging him, pulling him down close. Each man gasped and panted into the other, Bakura never stopping his motions and Marik rubbing hard onto the spirit's shoulders.

"D-Don't-" Marik stuttered through a brief parting of their lips. But the paler man had no intentions of stopping; he would spin Marik through his peak until he was spent thoroughly. For several more minutes, the pair continued moving with each other slowly, kissing, like they had never done this before and this was their last opportunity. Bakura eventually parted from the blonde, panting quietly, body shivering, sweat sliding down his neck and back. The other lay in a similar state, not even able to open his eyes. His lips were parted, wet, moving in time with the rising and falling of his breath. He moaned lowly, exhausted and tingling through his entire frame. The spirit took hold of the back of Marik's knees and slowly pulled himself out, fingers sticky with the boy's come. Without saying anything, he laid the desert native's knees together, climbed over them and laid out beside him. He tucked his nose under Marik's ear, breathing deeply. He threw his arm over his chest, pulling him closer and firmly claiming him.

The blonde was still evening his breath, not a single part of him moved from where Bakura had placed him. He felt warm, whole, safe- something he had wanted his whole life. He opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, licking his drying lips soundly.

"Mmm… 'Kura—" he whispered, scooting his rear closer to the other. Bakura breathed into his ear, tickling him.

"Hmm?" was the throaty response he got.

"Nothing. Just--… Mmm," the blonde smiled. He turned his face to Bakura, locking eyes with him. He rubbed his legs together, feeling the moisture between them. Bakura cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh?" he murmured, smirking. Marik sent him a tired but still sensuous smile.

"Yes- oh.." he replied, making a small noise of pleasure, enjoying the flash of lust that passed over the spirit's face. The man snorted and pulled on Marik, turning him so they lay together in a tight spoon. With the soft finesse of true caring, Bakura pressed several long kisses to Marik's scarred back, his shoulders and neck.

"You push my buttons," he growled, settling down; he scuffled the sheet up to within reach of his fingers and hooked it, throwing it casually over them. The blonde pushed back into him, fatigued and content within the circle of his arms.

"Mmm, you push mine—and quite well," he hummed with a chuckle. Both sniggered softly.

"You gonna sleep well?" Bakura asked through a yawn, still smirking.

"Yessir," Marik nodded.

"Good. Night, Marik…"

He kissed the blonde's shoulder.

Marik shivered.

"Goodnight 'Kura…"

*End Note* Hope you liked! Not so sweet as the first one. *shrugs* Idk—R AND R PEOPLE. I NEED FEEDBACK TO BECOME BETTER.