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"This is bullshit." Ukai glanced at you over his shoulder as you knelt behind him on the bed. You tugged on the rope you were using to bind his wrists together behind him and he hissed at the feeling of it digging into his skin.
"You did this to yourself." You said, tying the knot and setting your hand on his shoulder, leaning forward against his back and tilting your head to kiss the side of his neck.
"Remember what you did, Keishin?" You whispered, winding your arms around his neck and continuing to kiss at his shoulders and neck as you waited for his response.
"Thought you liked when I bite." He said with a soft grunt.
"Baby, you know damn well it wasn't just biting that put you here." You laughed, lifting yourself up and off the bed, walking around to the foot of the bed and looking at him. He was shirtless, his muscular top half on display for you as you hummed softly. His legs--covered by his plaid pajama pants--were sprawled out in front of him, and his broad shoulders were hunched forward, his hands fixed in place behind him.
Ukai was always so forward and dominant that you usually ended up simply following his lead when it came to sex. You never minded, you liked doing what he wanted and following direction. But last night, he'd gotten so riled up after a rough day at work that he'd not only left your neck marked up with bites and hickeys, but the bruising on your thighs and hips in the shapes of his hands still lingered. You weren't hurt, but you were all too prepared to take this chance to have a little fun with him. So at the first chance you got, you had him restrained.
You could see the gleam of excitement and anticipation in his eyes that told you of what you'd be in for once you released him. But you'd be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to it.
You stepped over to the dresser and dug through one of the drawers for a moment while he spoke, until you found what you were looking for and held it behind you as you made your way back to the bed.
"C'mon, pretty girl, if you untie me now I'll take it easy on you. No hard feelings." He bargained, and you tilted your head as if you were considering. When he realized that this tactic wasn't working, he moved on to another.
"You know I can fuck you a lot better if I'm not tied, and besides, keeping me like this will only be fun for you until you untie me." He said, "Because once I'm out of this, you'll be so sore you won't be able to walk for days."
His attempt at intimidation made you smile, noticing the amused curl of his lip and the light in his eyes as he tried to wager how you would respond.
You climbed up onto the foot of the bed, moving forward on your knees until you straddled his legs.
He tilted his head so that his nose just barely brushed yours, and you could see his gaze flicker to your lips for a moment.
"Untie me, baby," he said, his voice now in a low whisper, "Be a good g--mmrph?!"
His eyes widened in shock as you carefully smoothed out the piece of duct tape you'd just plastered over his mouth. You smiled, kissing the tape where his lips would be.
"That's better, huh?" You said.
"Mm, mmphrm." He mumbled, his eyebrows furrowing.
"What's that?" You teased, and he shook his head a little like a dog, grunting in frustration.
"Oh, come on now, don't be like that, Keishin." You said, "It's not like I put a leash and collar on you. Although...."
"Mm-mmh." He growled a negative response.
"I won't, don't worry. Not tonight, anyway. If you're going to be in a collar, its gonna be when you really deserve it." You said.
He huffed a sarcastic laugh through his nose.
"See, I have to put this here." You said, making sure the edges of the tape were firmly in place, "Otherwise you may bite again, and that wouldn't teach you any lesson. Besides, you have such a dirty mouth sometimes."
His eyes were hooded and his eyebrows furrowed teasingly, "Mm-hmm?"
"Mm-hmm." You nodded, setting your hand on his shoulder and using it as leverage to pull yourself further onto his lap until you were situated right over his crotch. He gave a low hum, squaring his shoulders to give you more stability as you leaned more against him.
You were dressed sparingly--one of his hoodies over nothing besides a pair of underwear--and you knew that he must be frustrated by seeing you like this and being unable to touch you. But that was the point, wasn't it? Of course you'd done all of this on purpose. The way your hair looked, the hoodie, how the neckline hung just low enough to expose the dark tint of his hickeys and marks on your neck and collarbone--all of it was a calculated attempt to piss him off. And if the way he was glaring at you was any indication, it was working.
"Do you like my outfit today?" You questioned, dragging your fingertips in feather light shapes against his neck, his shoulders, his chest, "I guess it's not much of an outfit really... But your hoodies are always more comfortable. And I like that it smells like you."
He let out a deep breath.
"It's like a claim, isn't it? Seeing your clothes on me lets everyone know who I belong to." You whispered in his ear, before lightly kissing his neck just below it. An involuntary groan broke free from his throat, his head tilting back.
"But that's not very fair, is it?" You sighed, sitting back a little and tilting your head at him as he looked at you through half-closed eyes.
"How will people know who you belong to?" You teased, "I guess I'll have to make that very clear, won't I?"
"Mmm?" He hummed in response.
"Shh." You said, leaning against him again and burying your face against his neck, listening happily to the sharp grunt he gave as you bit harshly at his skin.
Dark, berry-red patches and reddened bites dotted his neck and shoulders, until you were starting a path down his chest. You slid your hand down his abdomen, appreciating the dip of each muscle beneath your fingertips.
When you reached the edge of his pajama pants, his eyes found yours and locked you in a stare, as if silently daring you to go further. You matched his gaze and held it, then slid your hand into his pajama pants and wrapped your hand around him, smiling at his muffled groan and heavy breaths.
"Yeah?" You whispered, and his eyes fell shut, nodding in response and breathing heavily through his nose. You set your free hand on his chest, carefully pushing him onto his back so that he was laid down, his hands still behind him.
His hair was loose, sprawled out about his head and falling into his eyes. You reached up with his free hand to shove the stray hair away from his forehead, then dragged your fingers down his cheek and jaw, along his pulse, his chest, his stomach. You watched the twitch of each of his abdomen muscles as you touched him.
"You're so pretty when you shut the fuck up, Keishin." You teased.
"Mm-mm." He made a sarcastic noise, but you could see the change in pacing of his breaths as you began to tug his pajama pants down low enough to expose his hard cock. You lowered yourself, situating between his legs and catching his eye, holding the gaze while you wrapped your fingers around his shaft and glided your tongue slowly up his length.
He gave a soft grunt, a sound that soon melted into a low groan when you finally took him into your mouth, trying to fit as much of him in as you could until the tip was pressing against the back of your throat. His eyes screwed shut, his head tilting back against the mattress. You hummed in approval at the muffled groans covered up by the tape, at the sound of his heavy breaths huffing through his nose.
You started slow, knowing that he normally would be grabbing you by the hair, praising you and telling you how good your mouth felt as he urged you to go faster, to take him deeper. But because he couldn't take that control over your pace, you slowly bobbed your head up and down, swirling your tongue in circles around his tip before trying to relax your throat enough to take him in fully.
You could hear the muffled, slurred cusses he was trying to let out, could see the tensing of the muscles in his stomach and arms as he fought his bindings.
Lifting your head to take a breath, you stroked him slowly with your hand, using your other to swipe the saliva away from your chin.
"Is that good, baby? You like when I suck your cock like that?" You said, keeping your voice soft.
He chuckled, the sound masked by a low rumbling noise in his throat, "Mm-hmm..."
"Yeah?" You grinned, reaching up with your free hand and dragging your nails gently down his chest just to tease him. He hummed in approval, then moaned when you lowered your head again, finally moving faster and taking him deeper with each dip of your head. And measuring by his reaction, this was exactly what he'd wanted. His face was flushed red, sweat making his skin shine in the soft light.
You made sure to pay close attention to his breaths and movements, even as your throat began to sting from the tip of his cock pressing so harshly into your throat each time you lowered your head. And it was good--so good, how satisfying it was to hear him moan and pant and struggle to speak through the tape over his mouth, to see him writhe against the ropes binding his arms behind him. Even the rawness of your throat was satisfying.
And when you knew he was close, when his breathing grew faster and his moans just a little louder, you could tell he was just moments away from coming completely undone in your mouth--you pulled away.
"Mmh?!" He lifted his head to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his eyes burning with frustration.
You laughed, kissing your way back up his stomach and chest, feeling the heat of his body under your fingertips. You kissed each mark you'd left on his neck, then shoved his hair out of his face again, and he looked at you through half-closed eyes.
"Wouldn't teach you much of anything if I made it that easy for you, would it?" You kissed his jaw gently. He sighed in subdued frustration, dropping his head back against the bed and looking up at the ceiling.
"If you can promise to get that mouth under control, I'll take the tape off. How does that sound?" You bargained, lifting yourself to straddle his waist. He rolled his head to the side, glancing down at you before nodding.
"Alright." you said, reaching down and peeling at the edge of the duct tape, "I don't want to hurt you so you tell me how you want me to do it. Fast or slow?"
He gave a soft grunt and a quick movement of his head. You nodded in understanding, then grabbed the edge of the tape and pulled it off quickly, like a bandage.
"Fuck!" He cussed, "Was the tape entirely necessary?"
"Absolutely." You insisted, gliding your thumb along his bottom lip in soothing passes.
"You gonna untie me now that you've tortured me?" He asked.
"You think that was torture?" You purred, "Oh, you just wait."
"Y/n, baby, c'mon." He complained with a sigh.
"Nope." You set your hands on his chest and sat up, pulling the hoodie off over your head and tossing it aside. You had no bra on underneath, and he groaned at the sight of your body, still covered in fading bruises and hickeys.
"What do you want from me?" He asked, his tone now less complaining and more anticipatory. He was waiting to see what you would do next.
"Hmmm....." you lifted yourself enough that you could drag your underwear down and off, "You didn't like the tape, maybe you prefer this?"
You stuffed your underwear into his mouth, and he gave a muffled grunt, but didn't struggle.
"That better?" You said, tilting your head with a sly grin.
The low rumble in his chest told you he was remaining quietly compliant.
"Such a good boy." You said, trying not to be surprised by the low noise in his throat that sounded almost like a whimper, a sound that intensified as you shifted your hips to rub yourself against him, feeling the warmth of his hard cock gliding between your folds and spreading the slickness of your arousal along his length. You had been watching him carefully for what you called the Switch. Keishin was normally dominant and in charge, yes. But he did have a switch tendency that led him to--very rarely--dissolve into the most submissive little fucktoy. On nights like tonight, he often tried to fight it, but you could tell he was slowly letting you chip away at his half-hearted defenses. Letting you, because of his refusal to use his safe word when he wanted you to keep pushing. Then you would see it. The Switch, signaled by a soft whimper, or a whine, or the relaxing of his shoulders and a glimmer of want in his eyes.
"Mmh, fhck~" he groaned, the cuss muffled by the fabric in his mouth as he tilted his head back. Lifting yourself onto your knees, you reached down to guide the tip of his cock to your entrance, then began to sink down onto him painstakingly and purposefully slow, just to hear him grunt and cuss in frustration.
"God, you feel so fucking good, Keishin~" you moaned, trying to catch your breath as your hips finally met his and he was bottomed out inside you, "So....so big--"
"Mmm~" He moaned, his chest shoving forward as he panted, his skin burning hot and flushed red. The same red stained his cheeks at the edges of his mouth where the tape had pulled at his skin, but you hardly noticed. He would hardly have noticed either, even if you'd held a mirror in his face and asked him to look. No, far more important things flooded his mind and vision--primarily, you.
Your voice ricocheted around in his head like a tennis ball in a glass room, only picking up speed and consuming every waking thought he had. He could feel your hands on his chest, could feel your nails against his skin, the fabric on his tongue growing soggy with his own saliva, the fabric still tasting of you and drawing a moan from his throat, a moan that was muffled by the intrusion that he dared not spit out, not for fear of your response, but for wanting to keep it there. He felt your warmth wrapped around him and with each of your movements felt the feverish delight of frustration at being bound.
Your eyes drifted from the loose strands of bleach-blond hair sticking in clumps against his sweaty forehead to his dark eyes grown foggy and hooded with dizzy lust and the vacancy that only came when you managed to get him like this--with his control over the situation gone he tended to give everything to you, to relinquish himself entirely to whatever pleasure or delicious torture you gave. Without the use of his hands, everything he had was placed into your hands, and he was always such a good boy to you.
He looked at you as if you had offered him the very world, and you may well have, he wouldn't have remembered. He wanted you to tell him he was doing well just by lying here and taking what you gave him. He wanted you to remark on how obedient he was to let himself be tied and gagged and taken with so little complaint. The desire he had for these things were rare, but when they came about, holy shit were they strong.
Usually, almost invariably, he was the one dishing out praise and endless compliments for how beautifully you took direction and followed his words to a tee, holding his intimidating gaze when he ordered you do and never wavering under the strength of his hold. You loved it, too. Fell so easily into his hands like putty and let him mold you into whatever shape he wanted for the night, only relishing in the soft pressure of his hands and the bite of his teeth urging you into doing as he asked.
But on days--days similar to this one, where he had allowed himself to be taken under your instruction instead--he had a tendency to melt. On normal days, he had a soft spot for you, would chuckle softly at your jokes and shake his head with a grin when you stumbled over a word; on days like these, he was a soft spot, and you were able to knead him like dough to your exact liking.
The burn in your thighs flickered in and out of your thoughts like firecrackers buzzed only for a moment at a time when lit. A crackle, a popping flame, and then gone. Because while, yes, your legs had begun to ache from the simple act of lifting and dropping yourself over and over again onto Keishin's cock, that ache was entirely overshadowed by the pleasure each movement wrought through you. The burning in your muscles could hardly match the burning flowing through your entire body each time the tip of his cock nudged that sensitive, spongy spot inside you that sent a white-hot flame of intense sensation straight up into your abdomen where it filtered out and filled your whole body with the kind of opposite-numbness that came of being entirely submerged in feeling.
But your mind, some small part of it, whispered Watch. Keep watching. A reminder to keep your gaze focused on that sluggish, love-drunk expression on Keishin's face. To watch how his eyebrows tilted in a way that suggested pain but you knew was simply anticipation and renewed acceptance of the uptick in euphoric sensation that came of each slight change in the way you moved, your pace, your angle, the dig of your nails into his flesh. You listened carefully to each moan, waited for the pitch to rise just a little. You watched his chest heave with his breaths, troubled by want.
You'd fucked or been fucked by Keishin enough to have noticed those telltale signs. How he always seemed to mutter "God, fuuuck...." right before orgasm. How his eyes would screw shut and his eyebrows would scrunch together like he was focusing on something very important. How his fingers always pressed into your skin with bruising force. You noticed these things, and you noticed them now.
"Gnrh, fhhhck...." the muffled groan came, and his eyes squeezed shut, and you could tell he was clenching his hands into fists behind him, and so all at once you slowed to a near stop, continuing only in shifting your hips in slow, languid rocking motions that were hardly noticeable unless you were him, unless you were already so close to the brink of release that such a drastic change from the hard and fast fucking to the dreamy, barely-there, teasing rocking of your hips was a tortuous dragging of an already pent-up dam of pressure just begging to be set loose.
He whined desperately through the makeshift gag clenched firmly between white teeth. The fabric was richly colored and by now damp with his drool. His eyes, once empty aside from absent lust and infatuation and awe, now were bright and alert with desperation, begging, confusion.
Your grin was that of a cat licking blood from its claws after a successful hunt. You traced your fingers slowly up his chest, wrapping one hand under the back of his neck and pulling him up into a sitting position. He didn't complain, only relished in how much closer this brought him to you--he cocked his head to the side and could brush his nose against your cheek. You grabbed a handful of his dyed hair at the back of his head and pulled hard. His head flew back, exposing his neck to you and also setting loose a pleasured keening sound accompanied by a fresh coat of reddened blush to his skin. You reached up and slowly tugged the underwear from his mouth, tossing it to the floor and appreciating for a moment how it was followed by audible, heavy panting that carried on each of its breaths a soft groan speaking of frustration and perhaps of pleading. You grabbed his throat, just at his jaw so that you could feel the bone under your fingertips, and pulled his face down to look at you once more. He did so without complaint, his clouded-over eyes meeting yours greedily as you tilted your head so that your lips could just barely touch his. His breathing was heavy and his gaze was desperate, and you found yourself now willing to reward his obedience and submission to your will.
"Did you learn your lesson yet, baby?" You cooed teasingly, biting gently at his bottom lip.
"Yeah," his husky voice was rushed and certain, "Learned my lesson, just wanna....please, do whatever you want to me, just please...."
He tilted his head forward in a hurried attempt at capturing your lips, and you giggled as you leaned back to keep just out of his reach. You shoved his hair away from his forehead and leaned against him, pressing your lips now to his cheek, his jaw, his forehead, the bridge of his nose, everywhere but his mouth, where he so badly wanted you to kiss him.
"Y/n..." he whined, sounding so strained that you almost worried that you had hurt him.
"Mm-hmm?" You hummed in response, using your grip on his jaw to shove his head to tilt back so you could turn your own head and begin to kiss at his neck. He was so hot he felt feverish--his skin burned against your lips as you kissed the dark markings still blossomed on his smooth flesh. Could you run a fever like this safely without being sick, you wondered. Maybe you'd have to retrieve a bucket of ice water and dump it over his head once all of this was over. You laughed quietly at the thought.
"Kiss....Want kiss...." he trailed off, swallowing thickly. You felt the bobbing of his Adam's apple as he did, and were satisfied by the ripple of his throat under your fingers and lips.
"Oh, come on, Keishin," you tsked, bring his face mere centimeters from your own and furrowing your brows with false severity, "You've been so good, such a good boy all night. Don't forget your manners now, sweetheart." You cocked an eyebrow and said in a tone that almost frightened yourself, "Try again."
"God, please, y/n...PLease--!" He begged, his arms tugging restlessly at his bindings.
Without responding, your lips came down on his mouth with feverish intensity that nearly matched the burning heat that rolled off of him. He moaned at the feeling of your kiss, leaning into it as much as you leaned into him, easily parting his lips to accept your tongue and groaning at the taste of you. God, that kiss was nearly orgasmic. You could tell he thought as much just by the feeling of his cock twitching inside you, reminding you that you'd still yet to allow him to cum.
Supposing he had suffered long enough--and knowing better than to overdo it, as you knew from experience and from his communication with you how delicately you had to handle him when he got like this--you started yourself up again, the kiss growing sloppy when you used your aching legs to bounce on his length again.
"Fuck, that's....feels so good, y/n, so fucking...." he trailed off, his words melting into a moan.
"Yeah?" You said breathily, growing tired but also feeling your own effects of the pleasure, "You wanna cum, Keishin? That's it, baby, want you to feel good~ you've been so good to me tonight."
"God, yes, I wanna cum~~" he grunted, "Are you... Want you to feel good too, y/n, want you to cum first." He nuzzled his head against your neck and chest, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him and feeling your sweaty skin cling to his as you moved.
"Such a good boy..." you purred, raking your fingers through his hair as he kissed and tongued at your neck, feeling your pulse beneath his lips before dragging his tongue against it with all the grace and enthusiasm of an overzealous dog.
You cussed, a low sound under your breath that came as an instinctual reaction to the sudden overflow of release that shot through you like a bolt from a crossbow, sending a spastic shudder through your body and forcing a cry of pleasure from your mouth. He whimpered lowly as your orgasm caused you to tighten around him, and he felt an intense satisfaction at how your fingers tightened around the handful of his hair that you had grasped, at how your body shook through each wave of pleasure, at how he had been able to make you feel like this, that he'd done a good job, he'd made you cum even before he had.
And you didn't let that go unappreciated--as soon as your senses had even barely returned to you, you were muttering soft, cushiony praises to him, your slick cum lubricating your movements even more now as you continued to rock your hips in hopes of shoving him over into his own release while you scratched his head gently and kissed at his neck and cheek and mouth.
And oh fuck he couldn't handle it all, your nails against his scalp, his wrists burning from the pull of the rope, his body sticky with sweat and his breaths feeling like fog in his lungs. His moans grew more pathetic by the moment and he didn't care--couldn't care, because you were telling him that this was right, that he was doing exactly what he should be, that you wanted him to cum, that you loved how good and sweet and pathetic and oh gOD he couldn't hang on for a single moment longer.
"God, fuucK...." he cried, his eyebrows drawing together and his eyes wrenching shut and warmth filling you as he finally came with such intensity that each of his breaths rasped like he'd forgotten how to draw the air in properly. He was lost in that pleasure, so taken by it that his consciousness was on a delay, seeming jetlagged by the sudden and unmatched unfamiliarity of things being like this. So rarely had he ever felt safe enough to allow himself to be so....so....
"Good boy, Keishin, I love you, I love you, that's my good, good boy,"
He became suddenly drowsily aware of your voice and clung to it to avoid allowing himself to spiral into the guilt-ridden thoughts he so often had when he found himself in these situations. It shouldn't be shameful, giving himself over like this, and yet he sometimes couldn't help but be angry and embarrassed at himself afterward. But somehow, it wasn't nearly so bad when you...
"How are your wrists, sweetheart, do they hurt? Look at me, Keishin. How are you feeling, my love?"
Your lips gently touched the red marks on his wrists and he couldn't remember having seen you untie him but now the rope was lying limp on the floor and you were running your fingers carefully over the indentations it had left on his skin. And soon after, you were pressing a water bottle into his hand and combing your fingers through his hair and tilting your head to look at him because you knew how slowly he tended to snap back into himself after nights like tonight--sometimes he would seem stuck in a subby daze until the next morning, when you would often find him humming and cooking something for breakfast and brushing off your objections and offers to take over and make something for him. It was as if he woke up and needed to thank you for being a safe enough space for him to allow himself to be reduced to a moaning, codependent, helpless thing, even if just for a night.
"Want kiss." He muttered after taking a long drink from the water bottle and feeling blessed by the coolness of it running down his throat. He had watched you pull on a t-shirt--one of his--and waited for you to return to the bed before making his request.
Without comment, you set your hand on his cheek and leaned down to kiss him, feeling with relief that his feverish skin had cooled a little.
"You wanna take a shower?" You asked, smoothing your thumb against his bottom lip and touching your forehead to his.
"Yeah."
So you and he showered, and you washed his hair for him while he stared at you with a curious, dazed awe. You got out before he did, and while he stood under the warm water, letting it cascade down his back and pool under his feet, you changed the sheets on the bed and put the dirty ones into the washer.
When you both went to bed, you fell asleep with his head laid on your chest, one of his hands slipped beneath your shirt and under you, setting now beneath the small of your back.
The next morning, you woke to find his side of the bed empty, and heard a soft humming and the clatter of pans in the kitchen.