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Made a tiny collage/moodboard thing for this

***

Porsche does not have the time to sit here and entertain Sakda any longer. It is almost time for his daily call with Kinn. Besides, his patience is wearing thin and he does not want his irritation to bleed into the limited time he gets with his husband.

Porsche rises from the chair. A clean cloth is passed to him. It gets stained red when he wipes his hands on it. “Handle the rest,” he instructs Phaya, the ex-officer of the Thai Army Special Warfare Command who has proven his mettle quickly.

Porsche rushes upstairs and has the fastest shower known to mankind. Almost a week has passed since Kinn left for Taiwan on a business trip. His husband has been so occupied with work there, they only manage to get about thirty minutes each day to talk on the phone, besides intermittently messaging throughout the day. Porsche cannot wait until Kinn is back in Bangkok two days later. He misses holding Kinn, sleeping next to him and of course, the sex.

He has never been this sexually frustrated. It annoys him to admit how much more quickly his mood sours this week because of that.

He is at the dressing table, partially done with blow drying his hair, when he hears his phone ring. He knows it is Kinn without even glancing at the screen. His fingers eagerly click on the accept call button as he abandons the blow dryer and sinks down onto the chair. He balances the phone against a small jewellery box he’d left on the dressing table. When his husband’s face comes into view, the corners of his lips tug up.

“Hello, teerak.” Even though Kinn looks visibly exhausted, there is a wide grin on his face when he sees Porsche.

“Hi, husband.” Porsche takes in the light shadows under his eyes.

“How was your day?”

“Would’ve been better if you were by my side,” Porsche sighs. He misses Kinn so much, it is a constant thought in his head every moment.

“I wish I could be there too,” his smile dims. The two of them never took separation well. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Concern grows in Porsche. “What’s wrong? Are you not doing okay?” Kinn looks too tired for his liking.

Kinn shakes his head. “It’s just been tiring. I’m fine. But,” Kinn pauses, “I can’t come back by the end of this week like what was planned earlier.”

Porsche’s shoulders slump. “Why?” he whines. Porsche thinks he might go crazy if he goes any longer without Kinn.

“An issue popped up which is taking longer than expected to resolve,” Kinn’s tone is apologetic.

“Do you know it will be worked out?”

“I’m working with someone to get it resolved as soon as possible but we don’t know how long it’s going to take.”

Porsche pouts. He’s seen three men get murdered yet this is the worst thing he’s had to deal with all week.

“I’m sorry, teerak. I’ll let you know the moment I find out when I can leave but for now, I don’t know.”

Porsche knows it is not something that can be helped but he feels disappointed anyway. “You’d better get on a flight the next minute you know you can leave,” he orders.

“I’ll get on one the next second,” Kinn solemnly promises.

The pout on Porsche’s lips lingers. “I hate this. I don’t like sleeping without you next to me.”

“I know,” Kinn softens. He relates to the feeling. The bed in his hotel is too big and too cold.
“We’ll stay in bed for a week when I get back.”

“I would hope the bed doesn’t last beyond the first day you’re back with what we do on it.” Porsche shoots him a look. It is a blatant come on.

“Oh?” Kinn raises a brow. “Am I supposed to think that you’re giving it a break while I’m not there?”

Porsche’s cheeks flush. “You know it’s not the same when you’re not here.” Porsche has tried getting himself off twice since Kinn had left. Although he orgasmed, there is a feeling of dissatisfaction that drives him crazy. He knows he needs Kinn to be fully satisfied. His body has long become an instrument that only Kinn can play well. Porsche soon abandoned the idea of self- pleasuring. It did not help anyway. He’d have brought up phone sex but they had limited time each day and he did not want to distract Kinn.

“Poor thing,” Kinn coos. “I’ve been neglecting that sweet little pussy, haven’t I?” All the tiredness from earlier seems to have disappeared. Kinn sits up straighter, with this look in his eyes he gets when he is focused on one thing in particular. “Let me fix that.”

Porsche crosses his legs together. He knows his face has reddened. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy now. Take your clothes off.” There is evident lust on Kinn’s face.

“What are you saying?”

“Don’t make me ask again.”

There is a certain steel to Kinn’s voice that makes Porsche’s heart race. He loves when Kinn gets all commanding like this.

“Beautiful,” Kinn exhales when golden skin comes into view. “You’re wet already aren’t you?” He peers at the bottom of the screen, as if he can see what he is thinking of, even though only Porsche’s torso is visible.

Porsche squirms. “Yes.”

“Of course you are. I bet it’s starting to throb a little now too, hmm? Greedy little thing, asking for more attention.” His voice is rougher.

As if on cue, the pulsing between Porsche’s legs intensifies. He bites down on his lip to suppress a whimper.

“Go on then, give it what it wants. Rub a finger over your pussy. Don’t push it in; get it nice and wet.”

Porsche exhales sharply at the first touch of his finger on his sensitive flesh, doing just as Kinn asked. He’s done this just the day before but– the sensations seem to be amplified. All because he has his husband telling him what to do and watching him look pretty for him. Porsche feels especially vulnerable because of the physical distance so he craves being in that headspace where all that matters is being good for Kinn.

It’s been a few minutes of just teasing himself by going over his opening. Porsche has grown steadily wetter. He wants more. “Kinn,” he says.

“You must be dripping all over the chair now,” Kinn comments, as though he is picturing it in his mind. “If I were there, I’d lick it all up. Won’t waste a drop.”

At those words, a whimper finally escapes Porsche. If he tries hard enough, he can almost feel the phantom licks of Kinn’s tongue lapping at him the night before he’d left. Kinn had been relentless then; he kept going even when Porsche lost control of his muscles from overstimulation.

“But you already know that, don’t you?” There is a glint in Kinn’s eyes as if he is picturing exactly what Porsche is thinking of. “Prop your feet up. Spread your knees, let me see what’s mine.”

Porsche feels incredibly exposed in the position he is in. He feels cool air graze his pussy, making it flutter.

“Fuck, look at that,” Kinn breathes, leaning closer into the screen. “Always so pretty for me. Put two fingers in.”

“Two?” Porsche asks, hesitant. He was expecting Kinn to start with one and then slowly rile him up before giving him more.

“You know how greedy that gorgeous hole is,” Kinn lets out a rough chuckle. “It always wants the most.”

A vein jumps in Porsche’s neck. It is true. He is always greedy for Kinn. He gasps at the faint burn as he shoves in two fingers with no gentleness.

“That’s it,” Kinn encourages. “Pump them in and out.”

Porsche clutches at the armrest with his other hand as he follows the instruction.

“Good,” Kinn sounds rougher. “Now ride your fingers.”

Moaning needily, Porsche moves his hips. It feels so good– having Kinn watch him and hearing his voice telling him what to do. He wishes, oh how he wishes it wasn’t his fingers but his husband’s cock instead, stretching him open, filling him up so good he won’t be able to walk the next day. He wants Kinn to be wishing the same. He wants Kinn to feel as desperate as he does.

“Do y-you,” he stutters, “do you wish it was your cock opening me up?”

Kinn groans. “You have no idea how much. I want to chain you to the bed and drive my cock into you over and over even as you cry.”

Tears prickle in Porsche’s eyes at the image. He wants that. He wants that so badly. “Yes,” he says– pleads. “Yes. Want that.”

Kinn takes in the desperation on Porsche’s face. “Oh, teerak,” he says, awed. “You’re really missing me a lot, aren't you?”

“So much. Miss you so much,” Porsche gasps. He moves his fingers faster.

“Three,” Kinn growls. “And rub your thumb over that swollen clit for me.”

A fractured breath escapes Porsche as he rides three fingers. He throws his head back with his eyes closed.

“No, look at me,” Kinn says. “Let me see you.”

Porsche tries to do that but he can only manage a half-lidded gaze. Kinn seems to be fine with that.

“Good,” Kinn praises. “Let me see how I make you come apart for me without even touching you.”

The muscles on Porsche’s stomach jump as his movements grow more frantic. The fingers on the armrest clench it tighter. He notes Kinn licking his lips as his eyes are fixated on a singular point: his pussy making a mess of the chair. Porsche can feel droplets sliding down his thighs. His body heats further. He’s not been this wet in the two times he’d touched himself. “Anakinn,” he calls out, the sound reedy. There is something Porsche needs to tip over the edge. He cannot place what it is, with how his mind is occupied with a single objective: making himself come.

Kinn understands what it is that Porsche needs. “You’re doing so well, teerak. Let go for me.”

A few more pumps of his fingers and circles around his clit and Porsche is coming, tremors running through his body and a cry pulled from deep within him. It is the most satisfying orgasm he has had this week. All because of Kinn. He slumps in the chair, panting. When he can focus again, he finds his husband staring at him with both fondness and desire. Porsche pulls his fingers out and, while looking into Kinn’s eyes, licks them clean.

Kinn’s eyes flare with heat. “Menace,” he hisses.

Porsche grins. “Your turn now.”

Kinn shakes his head. “This was all about you, teerak.”

“Are you sure?” Porsche’s brows furrow.

“Yeah. Watching you wreck yourself with your fingers is enough for me.” A glint appears in Kinn’s eyes. “When I’m back,” he rasps, “it’ll be my fingers instead.”

Porsche swallows as he nods. He wants to say how much he wants it in words too but is interrupted by Kinn talking to someone who is not visible on the screen. When he is done, he trains his attention back on Porsche.

“I need to go now, teerak,” he says apologetically.

Porsche tamps down his disappointment. He wishes they could spend longer to talk. “Okay,” he says. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Be careful.”

Kinn nods. “Thank you for giving me material for good dreams tonight,” he says teasingly.

Porsche rolls his eyes, smiling. “A dream is all you’ll get. Off you go now.”

It doesn't occur to Porsche even after the call ends, how Kinn mentioned he’d use his fingers and not something else, when usually he’d be dripping filth about using his cock to take Porsche apart.

***
They hardly get twenty minutes to talk on call in the week that follows. This is the longest they have been apart from each other. Porsche hopes that Kinn being this busy means that he can get back to Bangkok sooner. It is not healthy how much he misses Kinn but he doesn’t care. They are both obsessed with each other and this obsession only grew over the years.

For yet another night, Porsche goes to bed with thoughts of Kinn on his mind. It takes a long time for him to succumb to sleep, as has been the case ever since Kinn left.

Subconsciously, Porsche registers the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. A sound escapes him, a mix of confusion and anguish. Even in his sleep, his body attempts to seek out the source and move closer to it. A chuckle reaches his ears. Porsche hears it as if his head is underwater.

“Porsche,” a soft voice calls out.

Porsche is enveloped in a comforting, familiar warmth. He turns to lay on his side. The scent grows stronger. Porsche lets out a sigh and throws an arm around the mass of warmth, nuzzling his nose closer.

“Porsche,” the voice is louder this time.

There is some patting on his shoulder. Porsche pries open his eyelids. He makes out the features of his husband’s face in front of him. Has he started hallucinating now? Is this how bad it’s gotten?

“There you are.”

“Wha-” Porsche cannot even complete the word with his sleep-addled brain.

He hears a chuckle again and then a pair of lips press onto his forehead.

“Go back to sleep.” The words are spoken so low, they almost sound like a lullaby.

“Hmm.” Porsche’s eyes fall shut again. The arm around his waist tightens.

***
The light behind Porsche’s eyelids grows brighter and brighter. He grimaces and turns. There is a solid mass of heat against his body. He feels featherlight pressure against his cheek that disappears and then comes back again. He blinks one eye open. He sees his husband smile at him and kiss his cheek again. Both his eyes are wide open now.

“You’re awake,” Kinn smiles.

Porsche jolts up. He pokes the body next to his, just to be sure he is not imagining things. He feels solid flesh. “You’re back!”

Kinn laughs as Porsche flops onto him, knees on either side of his hips. He is soon attacked by enthusiastic pecks on his cheeks, nose, forehead and anywhere that Porsche decides. He laughs again, a weightless setting within him that he hadn’t felt in the entirety of his trip.

“I missed you too,” he says, dragging his fingers through Porsche’s hair.

“How?” Porsche asks, bewildered. “How are you back so suddenly?”

“I only wrapped things up last night,” he answers. “And I took the next flight out, just as you’d asked. You were asleep by then.”

“Good job listening to me,” Porsche pats Kinn’s head in approval, to which he gets a scoff. “You should do that often.”

“Teerak, when do I not listen to you?” Kinn arches a brow.

“Good point,” Porsche simpers. He lays his cheek against Kinn’s bare chest and tucks the top of his head under his chin. “Feels nice,” he sighs. “Let’s stay like this for a while more.”

Kinn lets out a contented hum and continues brushing his hair.

***
Kinn has been acting strange. It’s been a few days since he returned. Porsche thought he would have been fucked six ways to Sunday by now. However, all he has gotten are pecks and hugs. Porsche is extremely sexually frustrated, sure, but that is not what annoys him. No, what grates on his nerves is how Kinn looks at him with intent; an unadulterated hunger in those eyes that leave Porsche yearning. That makes Porsche want to lie down on the bed, the floor, the table, anywhere, and just have Kinn take him.

But Kinn does nothing about it. The air between them crackles with tension that is almost palpable whenever they are near but nothing happens to resolve it. Porsche is going insane. Kinn has also been in his study long into the night, working on tasks he could not attend to on his trip. It is almost like Kinn is purposely avoiding creating situations where things could escalate to the point of them snapping and fucking each other’s brains out.

Porsche would ask Kinn what is going on but he is unsure of how to broach the topic. What would he say? ‘Hey, I noticed you aren’t fucking me. Care to explain why?’ Ugh. He needs to get outside for a while. Which is why he asked Tay to meet up at a bar. They’ve gotten close over the years. He wants to talk to Tay about this situation he is in. Maybe he will get some advice.

Porsche does not tell Kinn anything about where he is going. The security team will inform Kinn about his whereabouts in seconds if he asks them anyway. There is also the underlying hope that Kinn will be irritated by him going out unannounced. It is only fair.

Although the outing with Tay eases his mood, it does little in offering Porsche a solution. He stays out for far longer than he had planned. His phone buzzed with messages from his husband towards the later hours he was out. They went ignored.

The advice he was given lingers in his mind as he steps out of the elevator and makes his way back to the bedroom.

“I’m sure Kinn has a good reason for why he’s being like that,” Tay comments with a sip of his drink. “Why don’t you sit down and have an honest talk?”

Porsche can only groan in response.

When Porsche turns the light on, he nearly leaps back, startled by the figure perched on the edge of the bed. His husband is sitting upright, knees spread with his palms on top of them, as if he were a king holding court.

Kinn regards him with annoyance. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be out till late? And why didn’t you reply to my texts?”

Porsche shrugs off the ivory cream blazer that is draped over his shoulders and tosses it on the floor. He knows Kinn hates when he leaves clothes lying around. He hopes it pisses him off.

He notes how Kinn’s eyes widen as his sheer lace blouse is revealed. Porsche is aware of how good he looks, the light colour a contrast against his brown skin peeking out through bits of the lace and the shorts emphasising his long legs. Typically, Porsche’s body would be too mottled with marks, courtesy of his husband, for him to wear something like this. Clearly, there was no need to worry about that recently so he put on this outfit that was stashed at the back of his closet. “I’m surprised you even noticed I was out, given how you’re cooped up in your study these days,” he replies with false nonchalance. There is an undercurrent in the air that Porsche wants to pull at until it explodes. Until Kinn explodes.

Kinn stands up. “It seems like you are upset with me over something.”

“Upset?” Porsche scoffs. “What could I possibly be upset about?”

A line deepens between Kinn’s brows. “What’s wrong?”

Porsche throws his palms up. “Nothing! I just went out for the night with a friend to have a good time and came back home. Maybe,” he pauses, deciding to be incendiary, “I also put on a show for all the people who couldn’t take their eyes off me.” He smiles without emotion.

He observes the strain in Kinn’s jaws before he speaks again. His plan just might be working. “Let’s sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” Kinn, who had moved closer to him as they talked, makes his way back to the bed.

This is not what Porsche wants. Kinn is not supposed to remain calm and walk away. Porsche clenches his fists. Talking about other people gawking at him had struck a nerve with Kinn. It always does. Porsche is going to use that as bait again. “I wonder how many of those people from earlier imagined filthy things about me,” he keeps his tone deceptively even.

Kinn halts. He turns around. Every bit of him appears stiff. There is a danger lurking in his eyes that Porsche has not seen in a while. “Don’t test me,” he says through his teeth.

Excitement begins to grow in Porsche. He needs to unravel Kinn even more. Push him until he snaps. He walks to Kinn. He raises his brows and shoves his chest with one hand. “Or.” He shoves Kinn. “What.” He shoves again. Kinn’s mouth goes tight.

“Enough,” Kinn warns.

Porsche gets closer and lifts his chin. “What are you going to do about it?” He enunciates each word, ensuring that they drip with defiance. The line of Kinn’s mouth tightens even more. Porsche needs it on his skin, biting and sucking bruises. “About the things people might have imagined, seeing me like this?”

“Porsche.”

It is just one word. But it hangs so heavy between them that the hair on the back of his neck prickles. “What?” Porsche raises a shoulder impassively.

“People can look all they want.” Kinn is all too calm. “But that’s all they can do. Because you’re mine.”

“Sure haven’t felt like I’m yours ever since you got back.” Porsche’s lips twist in a mockery of a smile.

A storm brews in Kinn’s eyes. Porsche wants to pull all that ire to the surface. He wants Kinn to touch him without holding back, in the way that makes his body burst into flames. Fanning the sparks of anger further, Porsche mutters the next words against Kinn’s lips. “Am I really yours?” He boldly cups his hand on Kinn’s bulge. There is something different that he feels but he does not have enough time to register what it is. “Wha –” he begins to say but is cut off by Kinn jerking his hand away and twisting his arm. He winces at the rough hold on his wrist as it is crushed against the small of his back.

“Fucking brat,” Kinn sneers. “You need a reminder of exactly who you belong to?”

Porsche swallows hard. Something about the way Kinn is looking at him tells him that he is on the edge too, on the verge of tipping over. He decides to give Kinn the final nudge to send him falling. Knowing he is about to get what he wants, he licks his lips, drawing Kinn’s attention to them. “Maybe I do,” he says. “If you even know how to fuck me good enough for that happen. I'm starting to think you’ve forgotten the concept,” he taunts.

For a beat, nothing happens as Kinn just stares, as if in disbelief that Porsche said that. Anticipation builds in him as he waits for Kinn to snap.

Kinn does.

He grabs Porsche by the throat and pins him to the wall. The grunt of pain Porsche lets out as his arm is twisted further is swallowed by vicious lips descending on his. There is no room for Porsche to breathe, much less respond. Kinn holds him in place with the hand around his throat. Fingers press into the sides of his neck, further restricting his intake of air. His mouth opens wider instinctively in an attempt to breathe but Kinn uses this to lick inside deeply, eliciting a muffled moan from him. Dots begin to appear in the corners of Porsche’s eyes. The noise he makes is both a complaint and a demand for more. Kinn pulls back just as his knees begin to wobble.

There is that look in Kinn eyes; the one he gets when he thinks of absolutely ravaging Porsche and making a mess out of him and his head empty of all thoughts. As much as Porsche likes unravelling Kinn and having him beg for him, he also loves when Kinn is in the mood to absolutely destroy him. Deciding to push Kinn further, as if the beginnings of arousal aren’t already simmering within him, Porsche licks his lips and snarks in a shaky voice, “Is that it?”

Brief surprise flashes on his face before Kinn smiles, grim and full of promise. “Oh, teerak,” he sighs. He grazes his knuckle across Porsche’s cheek, down his throat that bobs with a hard swallow and across his collarbones. His husband’s eyes are so dark, they remind him of blackholes. Porsche is helplessly sucked in, unable to look away. His heart pounds violently against his ribcage as Kinn traces his hand lower, stopping at the lace neckline of his blouse. Kinn leans in closer, nose touching his. “I haven’t even started anything yet.”

The sound of ripping fabric is accompanied by a gasp from Porsche as Kinn tears his blouse off. Kinn brings a hand around his waist, not letting go of the wrist he has twisted around him, and hoists him over his shoulder. Porsche lands on the bed with a bounce as Kinn throws him. When he tries to sit up, Kinn pushes him back down with a hand on his chest. A quick flick of his thumb and index finger, and his shorts are undone.

Then Kinn does nothing. Just stands there and stares. Porsche wants to preen under the attention, pleased that he made himself look pretty enough to have Kinn at a loss for words.

Still feeling brave, Porsche crooks a brow. “Are you just going to stare?”

Kinn lets out a curse and then huffs, sliding a finger under the gold chain enclosed around his waist. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Porsche tries to squeeze his legs together to ease the throbbing that has started between them but Kinn wrenches them apart.

“Don’t.” The tone leaves no room for argument.

“Anakinn,” his voice starts to shake with need. Porsche needs him to do something. Anything.

Instead of getting on top of him, Kinn walks along the length of the bed. He sits behind Porsche and fits his back to his chest. Kinn reaches from behind him to tug his shorts off completely.

“You drive me crazy,” Kinn says roughly as he sees the chains around Porsche’s thighs that connect to the one around his waist. A bruising grip is placed over one of his thighs, making the chain dig in.

Porsche tries to tilt his head back but firm fingers grip his jaw to move it forward again. “What are you –” his confusion over why they are sitting like this is cleared when he registers what is in front of them.

Porsche sees himself in the mirror next to the bed, with flushed cheeks and swollen, spit-slick lips. His thighs are parted wide, the damp spot on his white underwear clearly visible.

“Yes,” Kinn says against his ear. “Look at how desperate you are for me, how much you want my cock.” Kinn rakes his nails below the waist chain, making the muscles on his stomach jump. The pads of his fingers travel down, brushing his clit, making it pulse. They trail along his slit and then tuck under the lace at the juncture where his thigh meets his hip. The dark, arresting gaze in the mirror holds Porsche captive.

Porsche trembles when Kinn runs his middle finger over his pussy, from the bottom to the top. Kinn brings the finger to his mouth, making a show of sucking it clean. He moans as if it is the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. Porsche digs his nails into the bedsheet. “Exquisite,” Kinn rasps. “But it doesn’t deserve my cock yet.” Kinn tugs his underwear to the side again. “Show me how much you want it. Make that pussy feel good so that it milks my cock for all it’s worth when I bury it so deep inside you can’t breathe.”

Porsche clamps down on a whine. “But –” he huffs, “I want –”

A harsh bite to his neck makes the rest of the words die in his throat. Porsche lets out a pained moan, tilting his neck so that the sting of Kinn’s teeth sets in deeper.

“I don’t care about what you want right now,” Kinn growls. “Do as I tell you or I’m more than happy to leave you here like this and go to sleep.”

“No, no,” Porsche says, panicked. “I’ll do it. Don’t leave.”

Kinn traces a hand over his inner thigh as he waits. Porsche reaches between his legs and, under Kinn’s watchful eyes, draws slow circles over his entrance. Kinn licks up his neck and draws the lobe of his ear into his mouth with his teeth. “Keep going. Push a finger inside.” His breath tickles the shell of his ear.

Porsche shudders. He dips two fingers inside, up to the knuckles.

Kinn chuckles darkly. “Always greedy for it.”

Porsche’s lashes flutter. He cannot deny it. He is greedy for it. For his husband. He moves his fingers at a steady pace. Kinn sucks at the skin on his neck so hard, Porsche can almost feel the blood rising to the surface. He grows wetter. Porsche moves his fingers faster and pushes in deeper. He lets out tiny, wanton noises as he tries to do as instructed. The pleasure builds up in him but Porsche cannot shatter the way Kinn wants him to. Not with his own fingers, not when Kinn is so near him. So near, he can feel the heat of his body, the breaths that come out faster as he watches Porsche and the desire that is almost tangible. Every part of him cries out for Kinn’s touch.

“I –I can’t,” Porsche stutters even as he tries so hard to come. Kinn owns his pleasure. He needs Kinn to give it to him.

“Poor thing,” Kinn mocks. “Can’t do it yourself, can you?” He slides a hand over his chest, and pinches a brown nipple that is poking out. He tugs, hard enough that Porsche feels the stretch of that little area of skin acutely. His back pushes away from Kinn’s chest with a gasp. “Need my help?”

“Please,” Porsche whispers.

“Asking so nicely already? Where did all that attitude go?” Kinn croons.

Kinn shoves his hand between Porsche’s legs, knocking his own out of the way. Porsche jerks, shocked at the stretch of four fingers inside him, thicker than his own. Kinn wastes no time in setting a brutal pace. His head falls back onto Kinn’s shoulder. It is pushed forward again by fingers twisting into his hair.

“Look,” Kinn growls. “Watch as I take you apart.”

His thighs begin to quiver as Kinn moves his hand, touching him in a way that makes him feel like he is floating. Porsche is being opened up so good, his pussy tingles with these bursts of pleasure that have his toes curling into the bedsheets. When Kinn swipes his thumb over his clit, he knocks his knees together with a drawn-out moan. His head falls back again, eyes closing.

Kinn mercilessly shoves his legs apart. “Do that again and I won’t make you come,” he warns.
His fingers move faster than they did earlier, plunging in and out and thumb pressing onto his clit, making him writhe.

Porsche whimpers, using all his effort to keep his eyes even half open.

“Good boy, keep watching. See how pretty you look with my fingers inside your pussy.” Kinn’s eyes glint.

Porsche sees. He sees everything.

His hair is sticking out. His eyes are glazed over. His neck is red with marks. His nipples are puffy, stiff peaks. Kinn’s pale hand is almost a blur as it moves at the place where Porsche is desperate to be filled. His pussy glistens with how wet he is. The front of his white lace underwear is entirely soaked. Porsche looks like a wreck.

Porsche looks like he is Kinn’s.

His husband’s heated gaze oscillates between observing every tiny expression on his face to watching his pussy swallow his fingers. Kinn lifts his thigh and pushes it all the way to the side, over his own so that Porsche is half-sitting on his lap. The new angle reaches deeper inside him. He feels his pussy tighten around the fingers that are roughly carving a space inside.

“Anakinn,” he cries out. His hand flies up to grab his husband’s hair. His hips buck, trying to get away from the intense pressure and chase it at the same time.

“That’s right. Keep your legs spread open for me.” Kinn sounds like he is losing control. “Your pussy is clenching so hard around my fingers. You’re going to come, hmm?”

“Yes,” Porsche moans.

“Good. Come for me.”

Kinn keeps his head in place by gripping his jaw and takes his lips in a torrid kiss that makes his head spin. The moans that are punched out of his throat as he comes with a pinch to his clit are swallowed by Kinn. Even as he trembles, Porsche cannot stop his hips from moving and riding out his orgasm against Kinn’s hand.

Kinn grips his throat again. Pressing the side of his face to Porsche’s, he purrs, “Do you see how easy you are for me? How much of a mess you look?” With a bite to his jaw that makes Porsche whimper, Kinn adds, “And I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

Porsche moans as he pictures it; having what he has been thinking about for weeks. He pushes his knees apart as if Kinn is about to put his cock inside him right now.

Kinn huffs out a laugh. “You’re craving it aren’t you?”

Porsche bites on his lip and nods. He makes a protesting noise when Kinn withdraws his hand. In the mirror, he looks like a whore who is gagging for it. His eyes look as if he is devoid of all thought except wanting his pussy swallowing Kinn’s cock. The image he sees of himself should make him want to hide away in embarrassment. All it does, however, is make his pussy drip even more.

Kinn pushes him off his lap. “You’ve made a mess of my pants,” he tuts. “You should clean it up first.”

Porsche looks down at the deep blue silk on Kinn’s thigh that has a wet patch from where he sat.

“Go on,” Kinn encourages, voice heavy with arousal.

Porsche can hear how ravenous Kinn is for him. He knows Kinn is holding himself back to torture him for what he had done. Porsche is not going to get what he wants until Kinn decides to give it to him.

So he turns to face Kinn on his knees. He lowers himself and presses his tongue flat against the pants. The taste of himself fills his mouth. As Porsche moves his tongue up Kinn’s thigh, the smell of Kinn is mixed with his own. Moaning, he licks more fervently. His nose is near the imprint of Kinn’s length, faintly visible through the cloth. Growing bold and needy, Porsche mouths at the base. He needs it in every possible way. He cannot get enough of Kinn. He hears Kinn let out a stuttered ‘fuck’ and then fingers tangle in his hair to wrench his head away.

“I didn’t ask you to put your mouth on my cock,” Kinn says with narrowed eyes.

Porsche only lets his mouth drop open a little in response, hoping the sight would make Kinn want to stuff himself into his throat.

Kinn gives him a hard shove and Porsche lands flat on his back, blinking up at Kinn.

“Always having your way.” Kinn presses his thumb over the gold strand of stones that goes up his hip. Porsche hisses as the stones dig into the skin over the bone. He watches, heart pounding and pussy throbbing, as Kinn removes his silk shirt in a quick move. Kinn pauses at the drawstring of his pants. “I wanted to wait a while before I showed you. But you just had to be an impatient brat.” Kinn punctuates his disapproval with a hard bite to his collarbones, making Porsche wince.

Then Kinn removes his pants.

Porsche’s breath escapes his lungs in a rush as his eyes widen.

On the head of Kinn’s cock are two silver barbells with spheres on either end. One barbell pierces through vertically and the other horizontally, forming the shape of a cross. His ears ring with the sound of blood rushing. He knows his husband is big. But Porsche has never seen him as thickened up as he is now. The engorged tip is flushed a dark red, veins on the shaft prominent. His mouth goes dry. How is that…going inside him…?

Kinn tucks himself beneath Porsche’s underwear and rocks forward. Porsche shudders at the feel of Kinn, hard and hot, against his slit. The sphere on the underside of his cock pushes up and down on his clit as Kinn moves.

“Fuck, you’re drenched,” Kinn grunts.

The slide of Kinn’s cock becomes smoother as his pussy leaks even more.

“You’ve no idea. How good this feels.” Kinn’s breaths are coming out faster. “So sensitive. Your pussy feels so good against my cock, fuck.” The hold Kinn has on his hips turns bruising as Kinn moves faster.

His pussy clenches around nothing. His husband’s cock is so near to where he wants it. Yet maddeningly still too far. Once again, he is aware that Kinn is tormenting him with this. Teasing him by rubbing himself all over his pussy, making him wetter by the minute. Heat builds up in Porsche, along with pleas that he refuses to let out. He is not going to beg. He is not.

The look on Kinn’s face when he pauses unnerves him. Kinn bunches up the lace fabric of his underwear.

“What are you –”

He hears the sound of ripping fabric for the second time that night as Kinn tears off his underwear. Porsche gasps as cold air brushes over his pussy.

“This is for running your mouth earlier.” Kinn says in a low tone.

Porsche blinks at him in confusion.

A sharp smack lands on his pussy, right over his hole. A shocked moan tears itself from his throat.

Another hit lands. His hips lift off the bed and Kinn pushes him back down with a hand. The next slap lands on his clit. Porsche jerks, as pleasure-pain surges in him. A few more hits come down on his overheated pussy and clit; harsher each time and Porsche writhes. Shivers dance across his skin and pulses of heat lick at his folds. He is so embarrassingly wet, he hears it with each strike.

He wants to move away from Kinn’s hand. He wants more. His mind is a mess.

He raises a trembling hand to touch Kinn’s; whether to stop him or ask for more, he doesn’t know. The attempt is futile, his hand feels too heavy to lift and falls back onto the bed. His pussy and clit become an area of concentrated sensations that make him walk a euphoric line between pleasure and pain. Kinn slaps his cock over his pussy on the next strike, and the metal sphere lands on his clit. The tension in Porsche ripples and he comes with a low wail.

When his eyes open, he sees Kinn looking at him with a mix of awe and hunger. “I didn’t expect you to come from that,” he says hoarsely.

Porsche was not expecting that either. His chest heaves as he tries to get in more air. He is at his limit. He needs Kinn now.

He thinks Kinn is going to give in now. There is no way Kinn can hold himself back from ramming his cock into him after watching him come like that.

He is proven wrong when Kinn holds himself and slides his length along his core. Over and over. Kinn can hold himself with unwavering control when he wants to teach Porsche a lesson. Tremors run through Porsche as his pussy leaks and leaks. It almost feels like a furnace with how much it burns. Drops of precome land on top of his clit as Kinn prods the slit of his cock over it. Kinn dips the head of his cock between his folds, barely pushing into his entrance. Desperation claws at Porsche as the ache in his pussy intensifies until that is all he feels. All he can think about.

“I think I can come like this,” Kinn groans.

Porsche does not want that. He needs Kinn inside him, reaching places only he could, filling him up and wrecking him. He needs to feel his husband come inside him.

“Anakinn,” he croaks weakly.

A drop of sweat trickles down his temple as Kinn continues to slide himself over his entrance. “Something you want?” Kinn raises a brow.

Kinn rubs the tip of his cock against his pussy, collecting some of the wetness and pushes in slightly. Then he retreats. He does this again and again.

Porsche feels his eyes dampen with tears. They trail onto the pillow underneath his head. He needs to be filled so badly, it hurts. Porsche brings his hands between his legs, making Kinn pause. He pushes his legs apart, laying his thighs flat against the bed. He watches the muscles in Kinn’s jaws tense as he puts his pussy on display, spreading it open with his fingers. He feels it flutter and he knows Kinn sees it too, with how he lets out a rough exhale. More tears stream onto the pillow as Porsche finally breaks and begs, just as Kinn wanted. “Please, husband,” a broken sob escapes his lips. “I’ve been so empty.”

“Fuck.” The strained grunt from Kinn hangs in the air for a second as a wild look flashes in his eyes. Then Kinn shoves himself all the way inside, giving Porsche what he wanted all at once. The spheres on his cock rub against his walls in a way that sharpens the pulsing in his pussy. It feels maddeningly good. Kinn sets up a relentless rhythm, ramming his cock inside his aching pussy, never taking the entire length out. The piercing on his cock stretches Porsche open unlike anything he has felt before. On the next thrust, Kinn grinds and Porsche feels the pressure deep within him. He whimpers.

“You like that?” Kinn growls.

“Y-yes,” he whispers in a strained tone. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” Kinn’s voice sounds like gravel. He hooks his hands under the back of Porsche’s knees and pushes till they are at his ears. “Who do you belong to?”

There is no fight left in Porsche. He answers readily with a soft moan, “You. I’m yours.”

Kinn bites at his lips. “Am I reminding you of that well?”

He thrusts in roughly. Porsche cries out, arms flailing. The piercing drags against his walls, making his vision blur around the edges. “Yes!”

Kinn fucks him harder and faster, as if to drive that fact home, so Porsche never challenges him on it again. Never challenges that he belongs to Kinn.

“Your pussy’s taking my cock so well, teerak,” Kinn groans. “So tight around me.”

Porsche feels his pussy clench harder at the words. A low, needy sound escapes his throat as Kinn thrusts more aggressively. The sound of his hips slamming against his merges with the heavy panting of Kinn and his own breathy whimpers. The soft endearment Kinn spoke in contrast with how Kinn is fucking him like whore sends waves of pleasure racing down his spine. Porsche’s back arches as his thighs shake uncontrollably when he comes again with a cry. He feels a gush of wetness from his pussy that makes him want to pull his legs together. But it feels like his body has melted.

“Fuck, you’re dripping everywhere,” Kinn groans. His thrusts grow frantic and wild.

Kinn flicks his thumb against his puffy clit and a shattered sob rips from his throat. It is a lot. Porsche’s tongue is too heavy in his mouth to let Kinn know that. All that he manages is a weak, “Anakinn.”

His husband understands him anyway. “I know,” he soothes. “But you still need to feel my cock coming inside you, hmm?”

Porsche nods even as his pussy spasms in oversensitivity around the cock that is slamming into it. Because he does need it. He yearns for it.

“I’m close,” Kinn pants. “Look how deep my cock is going.”

Porsche obeys and looks down at himself. He makes a strangled noise when he sees an outline below his stomach, which disappears when Kinn withdraws and protrudes slightly when he buries himself back in. Kinn presses down on that spot on the next move. Porsche thrashes in the bed with a thin cry.

Kinn lets his knees drop from where they were hooked over his arms. “Keep them spread,” he commands.

Kinn shackles his wrists to the bed in a bruising grip as his movements become desperate and erratic. He rams his cock inside ruthlessly and Porsche can only whine as heat pools in his abdomen. The piercings feel so good inside him, pressing into his pussy like that. Kinn takes the skin on his neck between his teeth. Porsche moans at the pain of it.

“Kiss,” Porsche pleads, reduced to only being able to manage singular words. He wants to feel Kinn’s mouth on his own.

Kinn lifts his head. Porsche’s damp lashes flutter at the lust-filled look in Kinn’s eyes. Kinn kisses him messily, sucking on his bottom lip and nipping it. He hears Kinn’s breathing become more rapid.

“Come for me again,” Kinn says gruffly. “Wanna feel your pussy sucking my cock dry.”

Porsche’s breath catches. He tries to shake his head. “C-can’t,” he rasps.

“You can. Because you’re mine,” he snarls.

Kinn pulls out and flips him over in the blink of an eye. He pushes one of his thighs to the side and holds onto his hips, pulling it upwards a little. He stuffs his entire cock inside him with a sharp, quick thrust. The new angle has Kinn’s cock reaching even deeper. As if from a distance, Porsche hears a high-pitched scream. It takes him a few seconds to realise he is the one who made that sound.

Fingers twist into Porsche’s hair and yank his head sideways. Through his teary eyes, he sees the mirror again. He sees them in the mirror. He sees the marks on his neck, the scratches from the harness, his mouth slack against the pillow. He sees how he is at Kinn’s mercy.

“What do you see?” his husband says, hot against his ear.

“What’s yours,” he whispers, barely audible.

“That’s right. You are mine,” Kinn hisses. “Never. Forget. That.” He punctuates each word with a violent snap of his hips.

Then he starts to drive his cock inside so fast, Porsche cannot spot any trace of it in the mirror. The added pressure of the piercings on the tender flesh of his swollen pussy elicits laboured breaths from him. It could be just in his mind but the metal on Kinn’s cock weighs down inside him. He knows he is going to feel soreness unlike anything he’s ever felt before. With every step he takes, he will feel this intoxicating ache. Each time he sits down, his sensitive, sore pussy will remind him exactly how good his husband has fucked him. Incoherent noises spill from Porsche’s mouth as his entire body spasms. Kinn fucks into him almost viciously, using his pussy to get the both of them off. There is no better way of describing it. It feels as if his existence has narrowed to this; being used by Kinn. Beneath Kinn, Porsche feels like his only purpose is to take what Kinn gives him and make him feel good. The metal on Kinn’s cock rubs all the right spots inside his pussy that just keeps tightening with need even when everything feels overwhelming.

Kinn presses hard on his swollen clit and then lets go, repeating this action and Porsche cannot do anything but take it, tears leaking from his eyes in a continuous stream. Kinn’s hips stutter and he pants into his mouth. Both are beyond being able to properly kiss.

Porsche feels the walls of his pussy convulse when the first spurt of Kinn’s come flows into him. Kinn lets out a guttural groan as his thrusts become uncoordinated and shallow. Warmth floods his pussy as Kinn empties his cock inside him. Porsche’s mouth parts on a silent scream as every muscle in his body seizes up again, impossibly. Devastating pleasure ripples through him as he comes for Kinn, who moans in encouragement and drives his cock in deep, so deep Porsche swears he feels it in his throat. His body goes limp.

Kinn brushes his sweat-slicked hair back from his forehead. His cheek is damp against the pillow. A gentle kiss lands at the corner of his lips. Porsche blinks through his tears to see the reflection of his husband looking down at him in affection.

“I take it I fucked you ‘good enough’ then,” he teases, throwing Porsche’s provoking words from earlier back at him.

Porsche is too drained to swat at him or come up with a retort.

Kinn moves to pull himself out.

Porsche makes an anguished noise. “Stay,” he breathes. He wants to have Kinn’s come stuffed inside him by his cock for as long as possible. He does not want to have to trickle out of him yet, not when he’s spent so long wanting it.

Kinn kisses his temple. “Okay.”

When his breathing stabilises enough to string sentences together, Porsche remarks dryly, “You could’ve told me you got your cock pierced in Taiwan, y’know? Instead of staying away from me like you were preparing for the monk life.”

Kinn hits his ass for that comment, making Porsche give him a withering look. “It was barely healed and if I was near you, I would have pounced on you immediately.”
“You should’ve pounced,” Porsche grumbles. “It’s not like I would’ve stopped you.”

“I know how above average my cock is, but even mine needs time to recover after literally having metal go through it, teerak,” Kinn laughs.

Porsche rolls his eyes at that. Kinn and his everlasting smugness about his ‘above average cock’.

Not that it isn’t true.

Post-sex exhaustion begins to set in Porsche. He gingerly raises a hand to hold Kinn’s waist on top of him. Kinn takes it and tangles their fingers, placing his palm onto the pillow. Porsche is thoroughly satisfied at last.