* * *
“Hah—ah…!!”
Despite his struggles, the fingers twisting his nipples sapped his strength.
After shallowly moving a few times to ease the way, Haimar pulled back until only the tip remained before slamming back in, hitting that spot with brutal precision.
“Ah! W-Wait! Ngh—it’s weird… Hah!”
The sharp, upward thrusts made Ben tremble violently.
This was nothing like fingers—the pleasure was on another level. His vision whited out, fear and ecstasy warring inside him as his body reacted on its own.
“Ah! Ngh…!! Hngh!!”
Like a machine set into motion, Haimar ruthlessly targeted his sweet spot, and Ben was swept away helplessly.
His body, already stained with Haimar’s marks, could only shake and sob as tears streamed down unchecked.
“Hah… feels… weird…! Ngh…!”
“‘Weird’? You mean good, don’t you?”
“Hah—n-no! I d-don’t—ah! Ngh!”
Each deep, grinding thrust brushed against his prostate, making his back bow dangerously.
The Eilectric pleasure was overwhelming—Ben clung to Haimar like a lifeline, lost in a world of sensation he’d never known before.
“Ngh…!”
The relentless friction inside him was driving him insane.
Haimar, relentless, focused solely on that one spot while stroking Ben’s leaking cock in tandem.
With both front and back being stimulated, Ben’s sanity hung by a thread.
“All you can say is ‘weird,’ ‘stop,’ and ‘I don’t like it’?”
“Hah—you’re… tormenting me! Ah! Ngh!”
His body rocked uncontrollably, his mind fogged over.
This pleasure was beyond anything he’d ever experienced—his own body felt foreign, reacting in ways he couldn’t control.
Everywhere Haimar touched burned with hypersensitivity.
Sweat dripped from Haimar’s neck as he gently pushed back Ben’s damp hair.
Unlike before, when Ben had clenched in pain, now he gripped him perfectly—tight, pulsing, needy.
“Hah! Ngh! Ah—!”
The moment he’d entered Ben, Haimar had known.
A primal certainty: This man should only cry out beneath me.
And perhaps, he’d never be free of this guide.
Strangely, the thought wasn’t unpleasant.
After all, Ben was just as bound to him.
A fleeting thought crossed his mind—this must be what Espers and Guides feel, this possessiveness.
No wonder they were so obsessed with marking each other.
“Ah—hah! I-I’m close…! Ngh!”
Unable to hold back his desperation, Ben flung his uninjured arm around Haimar’s neck and clung tightly.
But Haimar, as mischievous as ever, stopped the skilled hand that had been relentlessly stroking him moments earlier.
Instead, he swept back Ben’s sweat-damp hair and smiled darkly.
To make it worse—though his hand had paused—he kept thrusting shallowly on purpose, the relentless pistoning never ceasing.
Ben shuddered, overwhelmed by pleasure with nowhere to go.
“Ah—I—I wanna c-come… Hng!”
“If you behave, I might let you.”
Instead of answering, Ben buried his face against Haimar’s chest, nodding desperately.
His body, so sensitive to pleasure, would eventually be fully trained by Haimar—capable of taking him from behind without issue.
But right now, he couldn’t.
And with Haimar refusing to touch him properly up front or pound deep where he needed it, this half-hearted pleasure felt like poison.
“Say my name, Ben.”
“Hah—! Ah! Hnn!”
Haima’s voice melted into him, slow and sweet, just as he slammed deep, burying himself to the hilt.
Ben’s mind, long past the point of coherence, couldn’t even process the words.
All he could think was how unbearably good it felt—his head and body both felt broken, desperate for release, desperate for Haimar to just touch him already.
“If you like being teased, I can keep going like this.”
“H-Haima…! Haah—Haima!”
His instinct-drunk mind barely managed to choke out the name.
A little more torment, and Ben would surely be sobbing, clinging to him with an even more delicious expression—but Haimar, too, was reaching his limit.
Reluctantly, he decided to save the real torment for another time.
“Haah… Good boy.”
“Nngh! Ah—Hhhn!”
Haima’s hand wrapped around Ben’s cock again, stroking fast and firm, just as his lips met Ben’s.
The kiss was soft, coaxing—his tongue tracing Ben’s mouth with a gentleness that clashed with the roughness below.
Pleasure wracked Ben’s body so thoroughly he forgot how to breathe.
Yet, even so, he didn’t want to pull away—the man’s lips and tongue were too sweet, too good.
Right now, he felt utterly drenched in a honeyed rain, sinking so deep he’d never escape on his own.
“Haaa…!”
A moan spilled from Ben’s lips as his body tensed, spilling thick white between them.
The moment he came, all strength left him—his arm dropping limply to the bed.
At the same time, he felt something hot and thick pulsing deep inside him.
Haimar’s cock burned unbearably, and the liquid flooding his insides felt strange—sticky and scalding.
Pop—
When Haimar finally pulled out, Ben’s walls clung stubbornly, as if unwilling to let go.
The empty hole twitched, gaping slightly, still shaped perfectly to Haimar’s size.
As it fluttered weakly, trying to close, a mix of cum and lube dripped obscenely down his cleft.
The sight alone was enough to reignite desire in an instant.
Ben, meanwhile, flinched at the odd sensation of his hole clenching around nothing.
But before he could react, Haimar dragged the swollen rim teasingly with his cock before pushing back in with one smooth thrust.
“……?”
The slick, well-used hole welcomed him easily, still soaked from before—clenching snugly around his length.
But Ben’s eyes flew wide, still hazy from his own climax.
Wait—hadn’t Haimar come too?
Why was he still hard?
Not just hard—throbbing, as if he hadn’t spilled at all.
“Did you really think once would be enough?”
“S-Stop! I can’t—Hnn!”
This time, Ben actually tried to resist, twisting away with what little strength he had.
The movement made his oversensitive walls twitch, but he clawed at the sheets, scrambling toward the headboard.
The motion nearly dislodged Haimar—only the tip remained inside, caught at the rim.
Amused, Haimar gripped Ben’s pliant hips, spreading them firmly.
Then, with deliberate slowness, he dragged the swollen head back and forth over the fluttering entrance, letting every ridge tease the sensitive ring.
Ben’s arms gave out.
“D-Don’t! Nngh—Ah!”
“I told you—if you run, I’ll devour you.”
“Hah—!”
Thrust.
Haimar speared deep, nailing Ben’s sweet spot.
The younger man collapsed into the mattress, ass still raised.
He tried feebly to twist away, but with Haimar’s iron grip on his hips, all he could do was squirm.
Leaning down, Haimar pressed light kisses along Ben’s spine, each touch drawing a shiver.
Even this was too much—Ben’s tears soaked the sheets beneath him, his cries ragged and broken.
“Hah—! Nn! Nngh—!”
The sight of him—this usually composed, upright man reduced to sobbing messily from being fucked—was a masterpiece Haimar would never share.
No one else deserved to see it.
And besides, Ben would probably hate it.
This version of Ben Plaskun—flushed, trembling, his—was a rarity Haimar would hoard greedily.
He noted, distantly, that his own usually cool skin had warmed from Ben’s heat.
Not just Ben—he was the one being dyed in the other’s colors.
The energy between them swirled thick and heady, wrapping them in a warmth more soothing than any place he’d ever known.
His vision narrowed to Ben alone; his ears filtered out everything but Ben’s racing heartbeat and choked whimpers.
This world, right now, was theirs alone—no outside interference, no distractions.
“This might be dangerous.”
Because it felt too good.
Haimar picked up the pace slightly, and Ben’s pinkened ass jerked.
Tears streaked his face as he glanced back—his expression a mix of shame, pleasure, and faint resentment, cheeks burning like he might combust.
Haimar caught his lips again, then nipped at his ear.
“S-Slow—Ah! Nngh!”
A glance at the clock confirmed the night was still long.
Who would’ve thought the sleepless hours he’d once found so tedious could be this enjoyable?
And sadly for Ben, he had no intention of letting go of his honeyed prize anytime soon.
* * *
