[The weight on his shoulders forces that more grueling pace, abdomen a tight drum and thighs shaking with a fine tremor of effort — but he revels in it, limits being pushed those few inches further to test what he can do, to prove himself, to demonstrate his strength and desire in a real and physical way. His breath is ragged and uneven, chest rising with every harsh intake and collapsing on the outflow.
Then he feels Cy's nails in his back, raking hot lines to the surface of skin, catching on the dead nerves of scar tissue but alive and vibrant with pain everywhere else. He wonders if Cy has drawn blood. He hopes, and he wants it to leave a mark as long as possible, deep enough to mottle with the bruising that discolors his skin in that claiming way. It means Cy has touched him, changed and possessed him.
Sasuke recognizes the question, because his own thoughts are drifting back on all of their conversations and encounters — he can't forget anything they've said or done. He never will. He remembers the first time Cy asked him that, and how it sounded over the device, dark and intoxicating, a trigger for some instinct or urge he had yet to recognize. He remembers his own thoughtless compliance, just like now—]
Yes, [a word that sounds like begging as he writhes on Cy's cock, clenching his hole around the intrusion of hard flesh until it aches.] Yes, please. Yes.
no subject
Then he feels Cy's nails in his back, raking hot lines to the surface of skin, catching on the dead nerves of scar tissue but alive and vibrant with pain everywhere else. He wonders if Cy has drawn blood. He hopes, and he wants it to leave a mark as long as possible, deep enough to mottle with the bruising that discolors his skin in that claiming way. It means Cy has touched him, changed and possessed him.
Sasuke recognizes the question, because his own thoughts are drifting back on all of their conversations and encounters — he can't forget anything they've said or done. He never will. He remembers the first time Cy asked him that, and how it sounded over the device, dark and intoxicating, a trigger for some instinct or urge he had yet to recognize. He remembers his own thoughtless compliance, just like now—]
Yes, [a word that sounds like begging as he writhes on Cy's cock, clenching his hole around the intrusion of hard flesh until it aches.] Yes, please. Yes.