* * *
“Hng—! Ah! W-Wait, ngh!”
The moment Haimar loosened his grip on Ben’s tautly stretched arm, Ben’s body—now off-balance—collapsed onto the floor.
As his flushed, sensitive nipples and the tip of his cock made contact with the cold tile, a shivering pleasure rippled through him, wrenching another broken moan from his lips.
The heat-swollen nubs pressed flat against the slick surface, the sensation so icy it felt like being rubbed with frost.
Yet somehow, it felt good.
His entire body burned as if molten, and though the overstimulation stung, the coolness against his raw, oversensitive skin was a relief he didn’t want to lose.
“Feels good?”
Haimar’s fingers trailed over Ben’s toned abdomen as he lay sprawled, cheek and chest flush against the floor.
A slow drag down to his navel made Ben’s shoulders jerk.
Their hips were locked so tightly that every shift sent slick, clenching heat swallowing Haimar deeper—hot and suffocatingly tight, molding perfectly around him.
“Ben. My guide. Hm?”
What had made him so feverish?
Did he even realize how instinctively he sought friction when teased?
Even Haimar’s usually cool skin was scorching now, his damp hair pushed back as he watched Ben unravel.
“Nn… Hah—! Ngh—!”
The sweetness in Haimar’s voice only made Ben’s pounding heart race harder, stealing his voice.
He was ruined.
Pleasure this intense was poison.
Each deep thrust, each brush of coarse hair against his oversensitive skin, sent shocks through him, leaving him helpless.
Every inch of him ached.
Drowning in a bottomless swamp of heat, all he could do was gasp.
“Haima— Haimar, ah, nhh—!”
All Ben could manage was Haimar’s name, choked out between moans.
Unfamiliar sensations wracked him, his rationality long frayed—leaving only raw instinct.
The drag of his cock against the tile, smeared with precome, felt good.
He was close again, but his hands were pinned, leaving his hips to rock down desperately.
The Ben of before would’ve died of shame—but now, he barely registered it.
“Didn’t say you could do that, Ben.”
“Hih—!”
Haimar wasn’t one to indulge him.
In an instant, he yanked Ben’s arm, hauling him off the floor.
A whimper spilled from Ben’s throat—half-protest, half-pleasure.
“Wanna— nh— wanna cum, s-stop, ah! If you keep— I’ll— Hngk—!”
“Haah… We’ll go together.”
The snap of hips grew rougher, fracturing Ben’s voice.
Haimar’s low growl curled over him, the searing pleasure pulling him under—too deep to escape.
“Ah! H-Haima…! Feels weird— ngh— no, good, hah—!”
Forced toward the edge, the pleasure was nothing like his own fingers.
It threatened to crack his skull open—terrifying, overwhelming, too much.
This wasn’t his body anymore.
Every nerve burned, flooded with sensations he couldn’t control.
All he could do was surrender, let Haimar devour him whole.
“Inside, hk— s’weird… Hah—! Ngh!”
“Shh. It’s good.”
Of course Haimar would teach him.
Brand every sensation into him, rewrite every prior pleasure until only this remained.
Throb—throb—
The heat inside him pulsed, urging his release.
His heartbeat raced like a ticking clock.
Feels good.
Gonna cum.
So weird.
Pleasure, pain, touch—everything blurred.
Nearing his limit, Ben clenched down instinctively.
Haimar groaned, lazily murmuring:
“Ben. Be good—only this hole gets to cum.”
Don’t even think about touching your cock.
“M-Meanie— ah! Stop, ngh! Hate— Haima— Haaah—!”
A brutal thrust punched the air from his lungs.
Pleasure detonated—his cock spurting thick white as heat flooded him inside, too.
The strange, sticky fullness made Ben shudder.
“Hah… Ah… S’hot… Hn…”
Released at last, he crumpled bonelessly to the floor.
His shoulders ached from being pinned, but the heat pooling inside was all he could focus on.
Even as he tried to shift, the liquid warmth clung, his rim still stretched around Haimar’s tip like a plug.
The squelch as he squirmed made his face burn.
“Oh? Trying to run?”
“N-No— Hah—!”
Haimar yanked him back—hard.
The sudden slam against his prostate wrung a broken cry from Ben.
His body betrayed him, walls fluttering greedily.
“Ben. You know what happens if you run.”
I remember it clearly. I’ll devour you.
There’s no way I’d forget those words, growled so fiercely back then.
But if you’re going to do it, why here?
At least use a proper bed!
I’d even take the bathroom floor over this.
My knees, pressed against the hard tiles for so long, were red and marked, and now my back and waist ached from this position.
“At least—ah—wouldn’t the bed be better…?!”
“So you do want it on the bed?”
That’s not what I meant…!
If I’m going to talk, at least pretend to listen.
Haimar gently brushed aside Ben’s damp, clinging hair before pressing soft kisses along the inside of his spread thighs.
His lips lingered on the sensitive skin behind Ben’s knees, then traced the reddened marks left by the tiles.
“Hngh… It tickles…”
The whispered complaint was soothed away by kisses as light as whipped cream.
The warmth of Haimar’s tongue sliding against his own was sweet, like cotton candy melting in his mouth.
Ben soon lost himself in the sensation, lips parting helplessly—only for Haimar to pull away and scatter kisses elsewhere.
The corner of his mouth, the delicate curve of his eyelid, the long scar running horizontally across his skin—each brush of lips left behind a dissolving warmth.
The heat of Haimar’s body seeped into him, painting the moment in a different hue than before.
If earlier had been the searing red of pleasure’s peak, this was a softer, warmer crimson.
And those eyes, reflecting that exact shade, burned into Ben’s green ones.
A wave surged in those shimmering blue irises.
Beneath their seemingly cool color lay an undeniable, overwhelming heat.
Ben couldn’t look away.
If this sight was for him alone, even blinking felt like a waste.
As that affectionate smile filled his vision like an incoming tide, Ben had a sinking feeling his complaints were doomed to go unheard.
His face, which had cooled slightly, flushed again.
Haimar’s ivory skin, faintly feverish, and his damp platinum hair, darkened with water, exuded an intoxicating allure.
Every inch of him was dangerously stimulating—bad for Ben’s heart.
Seizing the moment Ben was dazed, Haimar’s hand rolled over the ripe fruit of his chest.
Then, with a sharp lift of Ben’s hips, his breath hitched as he was dragged back into the throes of pleasure.
“Hah… H-How much longer…?”
“Until you remember—even with your eyes closed—who’s inside you?”
You can’t say that now—!
“If you’re unhappy, I’ll hear it later.”
“Ngh—ahh!”
A teasing flick sent Ben’s inner walls clamping down hard around Haimar’s cock.
Pinned firmly against the wall with no escape, Ben’s hands were locked tightly together, cutting off all retreat.
Trapped before this impossibly sexy predator, Ben felt like helpless prey, praying for the night to end quickly.
Quickly? Yeah, right.
* * *
