PV Ch.4 Part 5

Song Jaeho chuckled, clearly pleased by Bomin’s recognition. He pulled the blindfold off, his lips trailing down Bomin’s ear, leaving a trail of kisses.

“How did you know?”

“Hnn… There’s only one c*ck like yours… in the world…”

“Good boy.”

He didn’t move. He was still buried deep inside, his hips rocking gently, giving Bomin time to adjust. 

Bomin’s walls, slick and yielding, pulsed around him, the sensation making Song Jaeho groan. 

The blindfold was gone, and Bomin could see Song Jaeho’s face clearly, his lips curved into a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Were you scared?”

“Yes…”

His eyes were still wet with tears, and Song Jaeho leaned down, his tongue tracing the delicate skin beneath his eyes. Bomin’s honest answer made him laugh, his nose wrinkling with amusement.

“Mmm… Hng… Mmm…”

Something was different. Even the way he kissed was different. His tongue explored Bomin’s mouth with an unfamiliar gentleness, tracing the line of his teeth, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring every inch. Bomin’s hand, freed from its restraint, reached up to tangle in his hair. 

They kissed deeply, their noses bumping, their bodies pressed close. 

Bomin’s walls tightened around Song Jaeho’s c*ck, the movement insistent, demanding. Song Jaeho groaned, his control finally snapping. 

He started moving, his thrusts fast and hard, the sound of their bodies slapping together almost violent. He was still kissing Bomin, his tongue exploring his mouth, his touch gentle despite the brutality of his movements. 

“Haa… Ahh… Too fast…”

Bomin pulled back, gasping for air. He pressed his cheek against the sheets, his body arching instinctively as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him. 

The blindfold was gone, but his hands were still bound. He struggled against the restraints, his movements frantic. 

Song Jaeho was relentless, his thrusts pushing Bomin further up the bed, his head hitting the headboard. The change in position gave him more leverage, his fingers brushing against the knot.

He tightened his grip on Song Jaeho’s hair, his nails digging into his scalp. Song Jaeho, lost in the sensation, was sucking on his n*pple now, his lips moving from one to the other, his teeth grazing, his moans muffled against his skin. 

He was like a man starved for days, finally allowed to drink his fill. 

“Ahh… Haa…” 

Bomin’s grip loosened, his fingers uncurling. His rational thought, his carefully constructed plans, dissolved under the onslaught of pleasure, becoming as distant and fleeting as a mirage. 

Bomin’s white body, flushed with desire, thrashed like a fish skewered on a giant harpoon. Bound hands twitched uselessly against the sculpted muscles of his back. He couldn’t even feel the sting of his head hitting the headboard, lost in a haze of whimpers. Song Jaeho’s arm snaked around him, holding his lean frame firmly in place.

The rapid beat of their hearts reverberated through their chests, both men caught in the throes of arousal. Two hearts, out of sync, yet racing relentlessly. 

“Lee Bomin,” Song Jaeho growled, his voice rough. “What’s. My. Name?”

“Hng, Song… Jaeho…”

Song Jaeho nipped at Bomin’s earlobe, leaving a mark on that sensitive skin. Every touch, every bite, sent a jolt of electricity through him, making Bomin feel scandalously exposed even in the dimly lit room.

Hearing his own name spoken in that broken voice was like tasting honey. Song Jaeho traced the shell of Bomin’s reddened ear with his tongue.

“Say my name again. Keep going.”

“No…”

“Then I won’t move.”

Bomin turned his head away, seeking refuge from the heat of Song Jaeho’s breath. As if to prove his point, Song Jaeho froze, all movement ceasing. Bomin, already on the edge, whined, his legs instinctively tightening around Song Jaeho’s hips, desperate for the promised release. 

Still, Song Jaeho remained motionless, buried deep inside him. 

“Whyyy…” Bomin whimpered, his vision blurring with tears as he looked up at Song Jaeho. He resembled a child whose sweet had been snatched away, his pale face etched with frustration.

“Say my name, and I’ll move. Right now.”

It was just a name, for god’s sake. 

Song Jaeho was acting stranger than usual tonight, making Bomin’s eyes well up further. The urge to be contrary, to deny this strange demand, warred with the ache coiling low in his belly, the telltale pulsing throb of his own arousal impossible to ignore. 

“Song Jaeho…” he finally breathed, swallowing his pride. Bomin’s lips grazed Song Jaeho’s, s*cking gently on his lower lip as if it were a candy. His dark, wet eyes held the reflection of Song Jaeho, the same way they had that night under the open sky. 

“Fuck…” Song Jaeho breathed, the sound escaping like a choked gasp. 

“Ahh… good, harder… yesss, Song Jaeho…”

Bomin’s pale ass bounced against the sheets, only to be pulled back down, over and over. Powerful thighs moved against him, a relentless rhythm that bordered on punishing. Marks, already blooming red and raw, spread across his skin like watercolor.

“Why are you so… goddamn adorable?” Song Jaeho groaned, showering Bomin’s face with frantic kisses. “Driving me crazy…”

The rope binding Bomin’s wrists came undone as if by magic. Freed hands instinctively raked down Song Jaeho’s back, nails scraping, leaving red lines in their wake. 

“Hng, ah, haaa…!”

Each thrust made Bomin see stars, his insides stretched to their limit. Yet, he didn’t push Song Jaeho away. Instead, he clung tighter, as if wanting to absorb him completely. The friction of his hardening n*pples against Song Jaeho’s chest, the feel of rough skin, sent a jolt of pleasure through him. 

“Haa, ah, harder… harder…!”

His moans were like fuel to a fire. Song Jaeho flipped Bomin over, holding his waist in a bruising grip. He thrust with a primal urgency, like a man possessed.

Bomin’s c*ck, unable to hold back any longer, spasmed, spilling its load. Song Jaeho followed suit a heartbeat later, filling him with a hot, thick rush. Bomin was coated in it, the white staining his stomach, chest, and tear-stained cheeks. 

But the wave of pleasure was immediately followed by a sharp, agonizing pain. 

“Uhhh… hurts…”

“Just a little longer. Okay?”

Despite his words, Song Jaeho’s c*ck felt enormous now, a searing brand inside him. Bomin cried out again, tears flowing freely as he felt his Guiding energy being drawn out, an involuntary response he couldn’t control. 

Song Jaeho kissed his flushed cheeks, whispering reassurances, but Bomin’s tears continued to flow. The expression on Song Jaeho’s face, however, was one of pure, unadulterated bliss. Bomin’s energy felt sweeter than ever tonight. 

Maybe it was the way Bomin looked, cradling Song Jaeho against him, whimpering his name – it made Song Jaeho want to hold onto this moment forever. 

“…Bomin?” 

Something was wrong. Bomin’s whimpers died in his throat. His teary eyes fluttered shut, and his head lolled to the side, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek to pool on the sheets. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Song Jaeho sat up abruptly, pulling Bomin with him. Bomin’s head fell back limply against his arm, as fragile as a newborn’s. Song Jaeho patted his cheeks, but there was no response, not even a flutter of his long eyelashes. He was still breathing, but each breath was shallow, as if a gust of wind could extinguish it.

Cursing under his breath, Song Jaeho gathered Bomin into his arms, wrapping the sheet around his naked body. He moved with a speed he didn’t know he possessed, his heart hammering in his chest. 

The engine of his bike roared to life, the sound echoing in the stillness of the hotel parking lot. Song Jaeho used his telekinesis to secure Bomin safely against his chest, his touch almost unbearably gentle. He tore through the city streets, his bike a blur as he weaved through traffic with reckless abandon. 

Thankfully, he was headed towards one of the dedicated Esper roadways, a necessity in major cities given their frequent emergency mobilizations. Once on the empty road, he pushed the bike to its limits. 

Even as he drove, he couldn’t help but glance down at Bomin. His skin was ashen, devoid of color, except for the lingering flush around his eyes. His lips were tinged with an alarming blue, making Song Jaeho’s gut clench with fear. 

“What the hell is wrong with you…?” he muttered, his voice tight with worry. 

He focused his own powers, listening for the faint thrum of Bomin’s heartbeat. It was slow, sluggish, like a dying bird. 

The sleek bike screeched to a halt outside the Association’s Treatment Center, the tires smoking. Without a second thought, Song Jaeho kicked out the stand and rushed through the doors, his voice echoing in the sterile hallway.

“Emergency! I need someone right now!”