PV Ch.10 Part 3

Bomin sat huddled on the floor by the door, the sheet clutched around his body, picking at his food. The meals they were giving him now were far more luxurious than the initial watery soup.

Today’s offering was a feast: French toast, oozing with butter and dusted with powdered sugar, a salad with a tangy dressing, and a thick, juicy sausage, sliced into bite-sized pieces. 

As always, there were no forks. Bomin grumbled about turning into an Indian with all this hand-eating, but he dutifully washed his hands and settled down to his meal. 

His good mood was short-lived. He frowned, his shoulders slumping. 

“Why won’t he come see me?”

He’d lost track of time, falling asleep in a feverish haze. When he’d finally woken up, the fever was gone, but his stomach was a raging beast, demanding sustenance.

He’d stumbled out of bed, heading towards the bathroom, when he’d noticed it: the chain, the one that had been ripped from the wall, was back in place.

He was still trapped, naked and alone. But more than that, he missed Jeong Hotae. He needed answers, needed to know what had happened, why Jeong Hotae had left him.

But three meals and a long, sleepless night later, he was still alone. 

He’d scanned the walls, the corners of the room, searching for any sign of a camera, but he couldn’t find anything.

He picked up a piece of sausage, tearing into it with his teeth, a cold glint in his eyes. 

“So, that’s it, then? Back to being a pathetic puppy, waiting for its master’s attention.”

The initial shock of seeing Jeong Hotae had faded, replaced by a bitter resentment. He was a different person now, not the lovesick fool he’d been before.

He’d learned that he could find pleasure with others, even without emotional connection. In fact, he’d made it a point to avoid emotional connection.

“Always so secretive…”

He’d never pressed Jeong Hotae for details, but even after they’d become… something akin to lovers, Jeong Hotae had always kept him at arm’s length. He’d been hurt by it, by the distance Jeong Hotae maintained, but he’d never admitted it, not even to himself.

Not until Jeong Hotae was gone, and the pain of his absence had shattered him.

He was over Jeong Hotae. Over that foolish, all-consuming love. He reminded himself of this as he pushed the plate away, his appetite gone despite the gnawing hunger in his stomach.

He stood up, tossing the sheet aside, and headed towards the bathroom. He needed to clean up, to wash away the grime and the despair. 

The chain rattled with each step he took, a constant reminder of his captivity. He flopped onto the bed, pushing the chain aside, spreading his legs wide.

“I don’t know if there’s a camera, but I know you’re watching.”

He murmured the words, his voice barely a whisper, then he slipped two fingers into his mouth, wetting them with saliva. He brought his hand down, his fingers circling his entrance.

He’d been neglecting himself, his body still tense and tight from the encounter with that amber-eyed bastard. He could barely fit two fingers inside. 

He pushed, trying to relax, but it only brought a sharp sting of pain. He sighed, reaching down with his other hand to stroke his softening c*ck. 

He closed his eyes, picturing Jeong Hotae’s face above him. Jeong Hotae, usually so composed, his features losing their sharp edges as he succumbed to pleasure. It was a sight more arousing than any erotic image.

He especially loved the way Jeong Hotae looked when he came, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his control slipping as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. The mere thought of it sent a jolt of desire through him, his c*ck hardening against his palm.

He matched the rhythm of his hand movements with the thrusts of his fingers, the friction building. 

“Ah…”

He was deliberately invoking memories he’d been trying to suppress. He knew Jeong Hotae was watching, somewhere, his gaze fixed on Bomin’s self-indulgent display.

Prec*m seeped out, providing much-needed lubrication. The sounds of his skin slapping against his palm filled the small room, the rhythm growing more frantic. 

The mattress creaked beneath him, the chain clanging against the metal frame. He was working himself up, but it was taking too long. He was getting frustrated, the pleasure turning into a dull ache. 

He grabbed a pillow, shoving it beneath his hips, adding pressure, focusing all his energy on reaching that elusive release. 

He was still only partially dilated, but he could feel his body responding, his entrance relaxing, its delicate lips pulsing invitingly. 

“Ah… I need something… bigger…”

But his fingers weren’t enough. The emptiness inside him, the ache in his body, it was only getting worse. He rubbed his face against the sheets, desperate for friction, for release.

His c*ck throbbed, red and sensitive from his ministrations. The chain rattled with his movements, a counterpoint to his ragged breaths. 

“Haa… Haa…”

Just as he was about to give up, exhausted and frustrated, he heard a familiar voice. 

“You didn’t need to call me so dramatically. I was already coming.”

The door slid open, revealing Jeong Hotae. He strode towards the bed, his gaze lingering on Bomin’s exposed form, his hips arched invitingly. 

“Missed me that much?”

Jeong Hotae’s hand cupped Bomin’s ass, his fingers kneading the flesh as he leaned down, his lips brushing against Bomin’s back. He lapped at Bomin’s skin, his tongue tracing the smooth expanse of his back, as if savoring the taste. 

“Haa… You show up after I practically fuck myself senseless, and you’re making jokes?” 

Bomin turned his head, his gaze meeting Jeong Hotae’s. He was finally showing his face, no longer hiding behind that mask of fabric. 

He looked exactly the same, the same familiar features that had haunted Bomin’s dreams for months. The only difference was the color of his hair and eyes, a dark, almost black shade of gray.

“Things came up. But I got here as quickly as I could.”

Jeong Hotae’s smile was apologetic, but Bomin couldn’t help but feel his cheeks flushing. He was still so weak when it came to Jeong Hotae. That damn first love, it held him captive even now.

“I’ve… missed this.”

Jeong Hotae’s thumb circled Bomin’s entrance, his touch slow and deliberate.

“Ah… Mmm…”

“What? Already this needy?”

Jeong Hotae chuckled, amused by Bomin’s eagerness. He was practically squirming beneath his touch.

“Stop teasing…” 

He’d been involuntarily celibate since his abduction, his only interaction with another body the rough handling of that amber-eyed brute.

Jeong Hotae chuckled again, spreading Bomin’s cheeks wider with his hands. He leaned in, his tongue tracing the delicate folds of Bomin’s entrance. 

“Ngh… What are you…?” 

Bomin wasn’t a fan of rimming. He felt a surge of tension as Jeong Hotae’s hot breath grazed his sensitive flesh.

He tried to squirm away, to put some distance between them, but Jeong Hotae held him firmly in place. He shivered as he felt Jeong Hotae’s nose pressing against his ass, the sensation surprisingly intimate. 

“You always loved this part, though.”

Jeong Hotae’s lips brushed against him, light, teasing kisses that sent shivers down his spine.

“Can you feel it? How much you want this?”

His entrance twitched, its delicate folds opening and closing like a flower in the breeze. 

“Ah… Mmm…”

He gasped as Jeong Hotae’s tongue slipped inside, the sensation surprisingly intense. He bucked his hips instinctively. 

There was a reason he didn’t enjoy rimming. He felt a familiar tightening in his groin, then a rush of release, his c*m splattering against the sheets. 

“Still as sensitive as ever, I see.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks. He’d been stroking himself for what felt like hours, trying to come, but nothing had happened. And now… just a few flicks of Jeong Hotae’s tongue, and he was already coming undone. 

“Please… something else…”

His entrance twitched again, its sensitive walls pulsing with the ghost of Jeong Hotae’s touch. 

“Am I making you too sensitive?”

“Mmm…” 

Bomin’s voice was a breathless whine. Jeong Hotae chuckled, then leaned in again, his mouth closing over Bomin’s entrance. This time, he sucked, hard, like he was trying to devour Bomin whole.

“Ah… Haa…” 

He moaned, arching his back. It felt incredible, the pressure, the suction, Jeong Hotae’s tongue swirling against his sensitive flesh. He felt a wave of dizziness washing over him, his limbs trembling.

Jeong Hotae, however, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He chuckled again, the sound muffled by Bomin’s flesh. 

Bomin clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms. The sounds, the wet, sucking noises, were driving him crazy. 

His entrance, which had been tight and unyielding just moments ago, was now responding eagerly to Jeong Hotae’s ministrations. 

“Stop… Please…”

He begged, his voice trembling, but his pleas were ignored. Jeong Hotae’s tongue was relentless, lapping at him, swirling around his sensitive spot, sucking him deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of pleasure.

“Haa… Haa…” 

He was drooling now, his saliva mixing with Jeong Hotae’s, his body slick with sweat.

Jeong Hotae finally pulled away, his lips gleaming. He looked at Bomin, his gaze predatory, his expression a mix of amusement and something darker. 

“Ready for the main event?” 

“Mmm… Yes…”

Jeong Hotae’s c*ck, already fully er*ct, throbbed against his thigh. It was clear, from the way he was looking at Bomin, that he was close to his limit, but he was still waiting, still teasing. 

“Ask nicely. Say ‘Please fuck me.’” 

Bomin bit back a curse, then turned to glare at Jeong Hotae. His eyes, however, were still wet with tears, his gaze more seductive than threatening. 

“Don’t you want this?”

Jeong Hotae pressed his tip against Bomin’s entrance, a gentle nudge that sent a jolt of pleasure through him. He could feel the delicate folds of his entrance pulsing around Jeong Hotae’s c*ck, his body betraying him even as he tried to resist. 

He bit his lip, his resolve crumbling. He’d known, from the moment he’d started touching himself, that he was going to give in. 

Bomin wanted to tell him to just shut up and fuck him already, but the words wouldn’t come out. Jeong Hotae’s teasing, the way he kept pushing Bomin’s buttons… It was driving him crazy. 

But he was at his limit. The pleasure that had been building since the moment Jeong Hotae had knelt before him, the way his entrance throbbed with anticipation… He was desperate for release, for something, anything, to soothe the ache inside him. 

It wasn’t something he could satisfy with his fingers, or with toys. He needed Jeong Hotae, needed to be filled, stretched, pounded until he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Please… fuck me… Please…”

He gasped, his head thrown back, his throat bobbing as he choked out the words.