PV Ch.6 Part 3

Yoon Bisam, like the other S-rank Espers, was blessed with a rather impressive size. Even the shallowest thrusts were enough to hit that sensitive spot. But Yoon Bisam, as if sensing Bomin’s desperation, angled his thrusts differently, targeting other areas, denying him the release he craved. 

Despite Bomin’s subtle movements, his hips grinding against Yoon Bisam’s c*ck, seeking out that sensitive spot, the Esper remained unmoved. He continued his relentless assault, his thrusts hitting all the wrong places, his thumb still pressing against Bomin’s slit, a constant tease, a promise of release withheld. Tears welled up in Bomin’s eyes, a mixture of frustration and something akin to betrayal. 

He was annoyed, more than annoyed, that Yoon Bisam had brought him here while he was unconscious. He’d been woken up, his body teased to the brink, only to be denied the one thing he craved. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask Yoon Bisam to stop. Not now, not when his body was already on fire, desperate for the release that would consume him. 

“Master, please,” he finally choked out, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. 

This asshole… 

Even as Bomin’s brow furrowed with displeasure, Yoon Bisam’s expression remained unchanged, his gaze cool and detached. If it weren’t for their naked bodies, their intimate position, one might have mistaken them for colleagues discussing business, not engaged in a heated tryst. 

“Don’t you want to c*m?” Yoon Bisam murmured, his lips brushing against Bomin’s shoulder. 

He continued his relentless teasing, his thumb pressing harder, his other hand kneading Bomin’s balls and twisting his already-hard n*pples. Bomin writhed beneath him, his hips bucking, his body desperate for the friction that would send him over the edge. 

“Ah… haa… I’m going crazy…” 

“I know,” Yoon Bisam said, his voice a low rumble against Bomin’s ear. 

Bomin whimpered, shaking his head, but Yoon Bisam showed no mercy. He was trapped, held captive by Yoon Bisam’s strong arms, his body a prisoner of his own desire. The pleasure, denied its outlet, coiled tighter, building with each passing second. His c*ck, once a pale pink, had deepened to a vibrant red, the evidence of his arousal impossible to ignore. 

Yoon Bisam’s lips trailed down his neck, nipping and s*cking, adding fuel to the fire. Bomin’s breath hitched, the sound rugged and uneven, his gaze unfocused as he lost himself in the sensation. 

“Master… please… touch me… there… I beg you…”

The shame of surrendering, of uttering those words, of giving Yoon Bisam what he wanted, was fleeting, washed away by the wave of pleasure that crashed over him as Yoon Bisam finally hit that sweet spot. 

“Ah… fuck…! Hng… yes… ah… ah…!”

He hadn’t been allowed to c*m, but the feeling of Yoon Bisam’s c*ck buried deep inside him, hitting that perfect spot, was like a dam breaking, a torrent of pleasure flooding his senses. He was lost, his body a puppet, his movements dictated by the rhythm of Yoon Bisam’s thrusts. He clutched at Bisam’s arms, his only anchor in a sea of sensation. 

Water sloshed onto the bathroom floor, a testament to their frenzied coupling. Bomin’s head was thrown back, his chin almost grazing the surface of the water. 

“I want… I want to c*m…” he gasped, his voice broken. 

He fumbled with Yoon Bisam’s hand, the one that still held him captive, desperate for the release he’d been denied. Yoon Bisam, lost in his own pleasure, paid him no mind. 

“Turn your head,” he commanded, his voice rough. 

Bomin obeyed, his gaze meeting Yoon Bisam’s. His lips were parted, slick with saliva, and Yoon Bisam leaned down, his tongue swiping across them. He shifted his hips, grinding against Bomin, and Bomin moaned, his tongue darting out instinctively. This time, Bisam indulged him, capturing his tongue between his lips, s*cking gently. 

“Hng… ah…“

Tears welled up in Bomin’s eyes, blurring his vision as his body trembled. He was flushed, his skin hot to the touch, his expression a mixture of pain and pleasure. 

Yoon Bisam, his gaze never leaving Bomin’s, thrust upward with renewed force. The kiss broke, a silvery strand of saliva stretching between their lips before snapping, leaving Bomin’s mouth glistening. 

“Nnngh… ah…! Ah… haa… yes… faster…!”

The water in the bathtub sloshed violently, spilling onto the floor as their bodies moved together, a symphony of flesh and water. Yoon Bisam’s c*ck, slick with their combined fluids, slammed into him, deeper than ever before. 

Bomin came with a cry, his release a torrent, a gush of thin, clear fluid that seemed to defy gravity. He sobbed, his chest heaving as he rode out the wave of pleasure. 

“Ah… haa…”

It was too much, overwhelming, his body a fragile vessel on the verge of shattering. He was drained, his muscles weak, but Yoon Bisam’s c*ck remained buried deep inside him, a relentless presence that wouldn’t let him go. 

His vision blurred, his consciousness fading. And then, he felt it – a sharp pain on his neck, a piercing sensation that brought him back from the brink. He gasped, his eyes snapping open as Yoon Bisam’s teeth sank into his skin, drawing blood. 

“Looks like you need to be punished. C*ming and then passing out on me…” Yoon Bisam murmured against his ear, his voice a low growl. 

“I’m… I’m too weak…” Bomin protested, his voice a broken whisper. 

“But this seems to disagree,” Yoon Bisam said, his fingers toying with Bomin’s c*ck, which was already showing signs of life. 

The constant stimulation, the targeted touch, was impossible to ignore. 

“No… stop…” Bomin whined, his voice pathetically weak. 

But Yoon Bisam, instead of letting up, simply licked the blood from Bomin’s neck, his touch sending shivers down his spine. He lifted Bomin out of the tub, his grip firm, his c*ck still buried deep inside him. Bomin’s legs scrabbled for purchase, but it was no use. He was at Yoon Bisam’s mercy. 

Yoon Bisam carried him over to the sink, setting him down gently. 

“Hold on to the sink,” he instructed. 

“Hng…”

Bomin’s legs trembled, weak and unsteady. Yoon Bisam tightened his grip on his waist, guiding his hands to the edge of the sink. Just as Bomin managed to straighten his legs, finding a precarious balance, Yoon Bisam thrust upward, burying himself deeper. 

“Ah… haaa…!”

Bomin came again, his release a messy spurt, his c*ck still soft, his body betraying him. He gripped the sink, his knuckles white, his legs shaking as he fought to stay upright. But Yoo Bisam held him steady, his body a solid anchor, his movements a relentless rhythm. 

Sounds of wet flesh slapping against wet flesh echoed in the bathroom, their combined fluids a slick, slippery mess. Bomin’s entrance stretched, his insides clenching around Yoon Bisam’s c*ck, as if trying to both welcome and expel him at the same time. 

“Haa… you’re so tight,” Yoon Bisam groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. 

He leaned down, his hand tilting Bomin’s chin up, forcing him to look into the mirror. Bomin’s hair, plastered to his forehead with sweat, was a stark contrast to his pale skin. His expression was a mask of pleasure, his eyes glazed over, his body completely at Yoon Bisam’s mercy. 

Yoon Bisam’s gaze lingered on Bomin’s reflection, his own arousal deepening. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, his lips brushing against Bomin’s ear.

“Hng… ah…” 

Bomin shivered, the sound of Yoon Bisam’s voice, low and husky, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. He couldn’t see it in the mirror, but he could feel Yoon Bisam’s c*ck moving inside him, a relentless rhythm that was driving him crazy. 

His arms gave out, his body slumping forward against the sink, but Yoon Bisam caught him, his grip firm but gentle. He continued to thrust, his movements taking on a desperate edge. 

Bomin’s body was slick with sweat and c*m, his skin flushed, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. He was completely at Yoon Bisam’s mercy, his body a willing canvas for the Esper’s desires. 

“Haa…” 

Each thrust drew a moan from Bomin’s lips, his body a symphony of whimpers and gasps. 

“Ah… please… stop…” 

“Haa…”

Summoning the last of his strength, Bomin clenched around Yoon Bisam, his inner muscles constricting, as if trying to deny him entry. Yoon Bisam groaned, his lips brushing against Bomin’s ear as he found his release. 

Bomin’s eyes widened, the sheer volume of Yoon Bisam’s release overwhelming, almost suffocating. He felt like a human toilet, his body overflowing with the evidence of Yoon Bisam’s pleasure. 

“You’re not supposed to spit it out, little one,” Yoon Bisam chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. 

He pressed closer, nipping at Bomin’s sensitive flesh, his fingers teasing and tormenting. Bomin moaned, his head pressed against Yoon Bisam’s chest, his body surrendering to the onslaught. 

“I… I can’t… anymore…” he whimpered, his voice a broken plea. 

“Your face tells a different story,” Yoon Bisam murmured, his gaze fixed on Bomin’s reflection. 

Bomin’s expression, even he could see it, was one of pure, unadulterated bliss. His chest heaved, his n*pples hard and sensitive, his body arching into Yoon Bisam’s touch. 

He almost wished he could just pass out, to escape this overwhelming pleasure, the feeling of being completely consumed. 

But then, just as his consciousness began to fade, Yoon Bisam leaned in, his voice a low growl against his ear.

“We’re not done yet. This was just round one.” 

It was clear that Yoon Bisam wasn’t letting him go. His c*ck, despite having just released, was still hard and ready, a relentless testament to his stamina. 

Bomin didn’t even have the energy to open his eyes. He simply surrendered, his limbs trembling, his body a vessel for Yoon Bisam’s pleasure, a plaything to be used and discarded at will. 

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