PV Ch.4 Part 4

Bomin felt himself being lifted, his body weightless, before settling against Song Jaeho’s chest, held securely in his arms. 

A sense of completeness washed over Song Jaeho, the feel of Bomin’s warm breath against his skin, the scent of his body filling his senses, intensifying the strange ache in his chest.

“…You’ve really changed, Bomin.”

He whispered the words against Bomin’s ear, his voice laced with a tender awe, the words a confession. He sounded like a lovesick teenager, his voice filled with an innocent yearning. 

“Hnn…” 

Joonseo, who had been struggling to his feet, cried out as a wave of invisible force slammed into him, crushing him against the floor.

“Agh! Hng… S-save me…” 

If Joonseo hadn’t been an A-rank Esper, he’d probably be dead. 

“Ugh…” 

Song Jaeho pressed his foot down on Joonseo’s face, grinding it against the floor. Joonseo’s nose crunched, and he thrashed, his hands scrabbling against the floor, his movements panicked and desperate. 

“If I ever… see you near him again…” 

“I-I won’t…! I promise…!” 

Joonseo’s words were garbled, his voice muffled by Song Jaeho’s foot, but his fear was palpable. 

“I’ll kill you.”

White teeth, stained with blood, scraped against the floor as Joonseo’s face was dragged across the gritty surface. He was in too much pain, too terrified, to even care. Even after Song Jaeho left, his body stiff with fury, Joonseo remained on the floor, his face pressed against the cold tiles, his body trembling. 

***

“Mmm…”

Bomin slowly came to consciousness, the sensation strange and disorienting. His vision was blurry, filled with fleeting shadows, his eyelids heavy.

He felt a soft, yet slightly rough fabric against his eyelashes as he blinked. He raised his hands to pull it away, but found his wrists bound together.

“What the…”

He struggled, pulling against the restraint, but it wouldn’t budge. The material was soft, so it didn’t hurt, but the friction was starting to irritate his sensitive skin. 

With his vision obscured, his other senses heightened. He felt someone climb onto the bed beside him. 

“Is that you, Song Jaeho?”

“…”

Song Jaeho had been with him when he’d blacked out. 

But whoever was with him now didn’t answer. Instead, he felt a finger gently tracing the line of his blindfold, the touch featherlight, sending shivers down his spine. 

Bomin swallowed hard, his throat tightening with a mixture of anticipation and unease. He hadn’t secured Song Jaeho’s affections yet. He’d only managed to pique his interest, to push him away for the first time. 

He could feel the softness of the mattress beneath him, but he wasn’t sure if he was in his hotel room. 

“This isn’t… funny.”

He didn’t mind this kind of play, but only when it was consensual. Bound and blindfolded, his body immobile, his senses heightened, he felt a wave of panic rising within him. 

“Ah…”

A warm hand cupped his cheek, the thumb brushing against his lower lip, the touch sending a shiver through him. A fingertip traced the seam of his lips, parting them gently, before trailing down to his throat, lingering on the delicate skin, the touch making him tremble. 

He was naked. The room wasn’t cold, but his skin prickled with goosebumps, his body on high alert. The hand that had been caressing his throat moved lower, tracing the line of his collarbone, before coming to rest on his chest. 

He squirmed as he felt his n*pples being pinched, rolled between those skilled fingers. His legs, unbound, instinctively tried to push the man away, but it was no use. A heavy weight settled on his thighs, pinning him in place.

“Hng… Ahh…”

He didn’t know who this was, but his body, so attuned to pleasure, was already responding to the skilled touch, the featherlight caresses sending shivers of arousal through him. 

He gasped as warm breath fanned against his hardened n*pple, the sensation making his body tremble. He felt a tongue swirl around it, drawing it deeper into the man’s mouth, the suction making his toes curl.

“Ahh… Stop…”

He knew, with a terrifying certainty, that if this continued, he would be begging for more, his legs opening willingly, his body surrendering to the pleasure. 

But his plea went unanswered. The man continued to suckle, his tongue swirling, his teeth grazing, until Bomin’s n*pples were hard and swollen, beaded with moisture. 

He felt the blood rushing to his groin, his c*ck throbbing. 

The man released one n*pple, his lips moving to the other, sucking harder, his teeth nipping, and Bomin whimpered, his hips bucking against the restraint, his bound hands struggling against their bonds. 

“Nnngh… Ahh…!”

The man chuckled, the sound a low rumble against his skin, and Bomin felt a sharp pain as his n*pple was nipped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him that had his body arching instinctively. 

The man finally released his chest, his lips trailing down his t*rso, leaving a trail of fiery kisses along his ribs. 

Bomin’s skin, pale as freshly fallen snow, was now dotted with red blossoms. 

He gasped as he felt the man’s lips on his stomach, trailing down the smooth plane of his abdomen, the sensation of being kissed, of being touched, amplified by his blindfold, making every sensation sharper, more intense.

“Haa… Hng… Who… Who are you…?”

If the man would just speak, he might recognize his voice. But he remained silent, his touch the only clue to his identity. 

He had large hands. But then again, all the men he’d met since arriving in this world were well-endowed, their hands as impressive as their c*cks. Except for the one at the club.

But there was something… different about his touch. He couldn’t quite place it, but the way he kissed, the way his hands moved… 

“Ahh… Haa…”

He gasped as his c*ck was enveloped in warmth, his senses flooded with the feeling of a tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, the broad surface lapping up the prec*m that beaded on his sensitive flesh.

The man sucked him deep, the sound obscene, and Bomin’s c*ck, already half-hard, strained against the confines of the man’s mouth. 

He wasn’t a novice. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to make a man come undone. He stroked the base of Bomin’s c*ck with his hand while his tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, his mouth providing a delicious counterpoint to the firm pressure of his hand. 

“Nggh… Ahh…”

A muffled moan escaped him, his hips bucking against the weight pressing down on his thighs, his legs trembling. The intense pleasure, focused on the most sensitive part of him, sent a wave of arousal crashing over him, and he came faster than he ever had before. 

He felt like a puppet, his body manipulated, his senses overwhelmed, his mind blanking as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him. The sheets were twisted around his toes, his feet digging into the soft fabric. 

The man’s head bobbed, his movements becoming faster, more insistent, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony, the slickness of their combined fluids making the friction almost unbearable.

Each time his c*ck hit the back of the man’s throat, Bomin’s back arched off the bed, his hips thrusting instinctively. 

He could feel the heat of the man’s mouth, the intensity of his suction, the wet sound of his tongue, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He came, his release a hot gush that spilled into the man’s mouth.

“Haa… Haa…”

He panted, his breath ragged, his lips sore from biting back his moans. The sudden release, the abrupt shift from intense pleasure to a blissful emptiness, was like a balloon, inflated to its bursting point, finally deflating.

As the aftershocks subsided, he felt his curiosity returning. 

He suspected it was Song Jaeho, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d tasted Song Jaeho’s c*ck before, but he needed to feel him inside to be certain.

His body, sated and languid, sank into the mattress. But his brief respite was shattered as he felt lips against his inner thigh, a finger probing his entrance, the touch making his mind go blank. 

“Hng… It hurts…”

His c*ck, slick with his earlier release, twitches involuntarily, but his hole remained tight, the muscles clenching around the intruding finger. 

Whoever this was, he seemed to be listening this time. He heard the sound of a tube being squeezed, and then the finger, now slick with lube, was pushing inside again, the penetration smoother this time. 

He moaned softly as the finger circled inside him, stretching him open. It was uncomfortable, but it was just a finger. He knew, with a certainty born of experience, that the real pleasure was yet to come. 

The initial discomfort would fade, replaced by an explosive rush of sensation, the feeling of being filled, of being stretched, sending fireworks exploding behind his eyelids. 

“Hurry… Please…” 

He was losing himself, his rational thought dissolving under the onslaught of pleasure, his body taking over. He didn’t care who this was anymore. He just wanted the teasing to stop, wanted to feel that fullness, that pressure, deep inside. He wanted to be fucked. 

But the man seemed content to take his time, adding another finger, preparing him slowly, meticulously. 

It was almost… tender. Like something Shi Yu-hyeon would do. Except for the blindfold and the restraints, of course. 

“Nnngh… Ahh… Good…”

He gasped as he was stretched open, his body yearning for more. The slow, deliberate penetration was driving him crazy, that sensitive spot deep inside throbbing, aching for attention. 

“It’s you… Song Jaeho… Haa…” 

He never forget the taste of a c*ck. 

They were all well-endowed, but there were subtle differences, nuances of size and texture. It was easy to tell them apart. Except for Yoon Bisam, of course.