Distractions | By : Crux Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1714 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, or the characters involved. This story is non-profit. |
"Hey, Marik." I smile, failing to keep the eagerness from my voice. I open the door wide, inviting him in. "Bakura has already gone." I rush him inside before I freeze from indecent exposure to the elements.
Though it is early evening, the sun has long since descended in the sky. Moonlight glistens softly off of the freshly fallen snow. I hurry to take his heavy leather coat to hang by the door, secretly inhaling it's musky scent.
The cold clings to his fingers as he takes my hand in his. He squeezes lightly upon contact, and I can't stop the grin that forms. "Would you like something to eat? I made burgers for dinner, and there is some left if you are hungry."
"Sure, Ryou, sounds nice." His voice, low and deep as always, has a strange inflection. He doesn't even crack a smile or make a snarky comment about my choice of clothing : an over-sized, holey T-shirt and boxers. His lack of response bothers me.
"I know it's not much, I'm sorry." I rush about, pulling out the necessary condiments. As I brush past him to get the bread out of the pantry, he grabs my shoulder. I stop, and our eyes lock. His eyes are dark, almost pitch-black, and soul-stealing. Unnerved, I break away.
"Relax, Ryou." He sighs and takes the bread from me, sitting down to prepare his sandwich. Sitting down opposite, I watch as he makes his sandwich, and politely look away as he begins to eat. My eyes wander elsewhere around the room, catching the blinking red light on the telephone indicating a missed call and voice mail. Ignoring that, I glance back at Marik. His eyes are on me, watching curiously, and I can't stop myself from looking away. I wish that he would say something already.
"Marik, is something wrong?" I bite my lip and look down at the table, studying the wood grain intently, sure that I've stepped into dangerous waters. I usually refrain from getting into his personal life, but tonight his behavior is too unsettling to ignore. His movements halt, and he slowly looks up at me with that ominous gaze, and my heart almost stops beating from the look he gives me: a silent, emotionless stare. To my expectation, he answers in the negative.
"Nothing is wrong. Are you ready?" He finishes his last bite and stands. Holding his hand out to help me up, he flashes a signature smirk. His quick change in demeanor is unsettling in itself, but I quickly stand and take his hand, following him up the stairs to my room. As soon as we enter, I am pushed against the door, my back hitting the wood hard.
Moonlight reflects off of the mirror on my dresser, illuminating the room slightly and causing Marik's features to glow. His eyes are shining bright, and his smirk is still in place. Roughly, he takes my mouth in his, kissing me long and deep. A few nips to my lips has me returning his kiss with full intensity. His tongue battles for dominance, and I allow him to take over. After a few passionate moments, we break contact to breathe. As I try to catch my breath, Marik leans in and whispers into my ear.
"Tonight is special, Ryou." He licks the shell of my ear, darting his tongue inside, and causing a shiver to run down my spine. Picking me up, I gasp and wrap my legs around his waist, clinging tightly to his shoulders. My arousal digs into his toned abdomen as he carries me to my bed. My head leans on his shoulder, and I breathe in his spicy scent. My tongue flits out to lap at his neck.
Tossing me onto the bed, I let out a sigh and move over to the center of the bed. "I have something good planned, Ryou. Do you trust me?"
Swallowing, I nod slowly, understanding his reason for asking. He leans down to kiss me again, this time to soothe my fears. His tongue laps lazily at mine, and I moan into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck.
I pull my shirt off and toss it to the floor, my boxers following after. I lie there waiting, the cold air causing my skin to prickle. Marik strips in front of me, casually touching himself as I watch. His smirk is gone, replaced completely by lust as he watches me watching him. Before he makes his way over, he grabs a small bottle of oil from my dresser, and places it on the nightstand next to the bed. He looks at me, and we make eye contact. His eyes are dark pools shining like ink as he stares intently at me.
"Ties in my closet, tape in my drawer." I silently encourage him to hurry, and roll over on to my stomach.
Marik prepared the ligature, slipping it around my neck. His fingers tickle as they brush against my throat. I breathe in slowly, deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves.
Spread eagle, he ties my wrists and ankles to the bed with a non-adhesive black tape. A blindfold- another tie- covers my eyes. I lie naked and vulnerable, waiting anxiously for him to begin. This is not our first time with BDSM, but it is only our second time using breath play. Despite my fear and lack of confidence, I know a little of what to expect.
Marik hasn't said a word since we began, and the quiet is almost eerie. We have never expressed much between ourselves; this silence isn't uncommon. What gets to me the most is what has seemed off-putting about Marik since he arrived that I still can't place a finger on. Trying to relax, I force myself to ignore the negative and to focus on enjoying the rest of the evening.
Cold oil pours over my back and trickles down my spine, causing goosebumps to form. He spreads the oil over my naked shoulders, and rubs in a sensual massage to my taught muscles. I sigh from his touch, enjoying every rare second. His hands explore the rest of my body, massaging the oil into my back, my ass, and my thighs. Leaning over me, he nibbles my neck, before biting harder. He laps at the area gently, as if apologizing.
Softly, he runs a hand up my inner thigh to land on my cheek, giving a quick squeeze, while a cold, slicked finger is slipped into my entrance. A second finger searches for my prostate, finding it easily. After a few prods, I let out a light moan. My member aches from lack of contact, I grind into the mattress, seeking more friction.
Suddenly the fingers are removed. With a hand on my waist to keep himself steady, he plunges in and forms a steady, slow rhythm, causing my needy cock to rub against the silk sheets.
He runs his fingers through my hair, almost sensual, before he pulls sharply and I accidentally cry out from the harshness. As discipline, he slaps my ass hard, the pain like a million hot needles. He rakes his nails across my skin, scratching and leaving red trails across my cheek before continuing to thrust faster. With the new pace, my stiff cock rubs harder into the sheets. My wrists strain on the tape, and the bed squeaks with each thrust.
Pulling out slightly, Marik adjusts his position and slams back in, hitting my prostate perfectly. I moan from the sudden pleasure. As punishment for making another sound, Marik leans and nips my shoulder before biting down hard, almost breaking the skin and causing my entire arm to feel numb. Marik pulls on the ligature, reminding me that it's there, and suddenly pulls it so that it strangles me, choking off my air supply completely. My eyes open wide behind the blindfold, and I begin to doubt our actions. Seconds pass, my eyes water, and my lungs burn already from lack of oxygen. When Marik finally releases the ligature I gasp lung-fulls of air.
I don't have long to recover before Marik increases his pace and pulls the ligature again. Now he's leaning over me, his hands holding his weight on my upper back, forcing the remaining air from my lungs. His thrusts continue, always hitting my prostate, and I can hardly take the pressure anymore.
Luckily he doesn't wait as long to loosen the ligature this time. As I gasp for breath, I feel my head starting to pound, my ears ring. This position is painful, and the feeling of suffocation is more intense than the previous. My chest feels as if collapsed, and I taste blood. It takes another moment to regain my thoughts, and I begin to recognize the increased pleasure. I feel exhilarated, giddy. Through the haze, and the deafening pounding in my ears, I hear Marik moan heavily. I love the sound, and I crave more of it. My voice is hoarse, but I manage to choke out his name, forgetting briefly about a punishment. As I hoped, his thrusts became harder. With each trust, a pleasured grunt.
My cock is suddenly taken, pulled stiffly in time with each thrust, causing my body to react strongly. He pulls the tie again, harshly, because of the quick pace and lack of attention. I was caught off guard, and the roughness hurt my neck; I knew it would bruise by morning. His hand is still touching my cock, trying to bring me to completion but my time is running out. I struggle and choke, spluttering my safe word, but the tie remains tight against my throat. My mind is spinning. Finally he releases the ligature. Embarrassed and scared, I realize I've started to cry. His thrusting continues as if nothing had happened at all.
With another hard thrust, he grunts from his own mounting pleasure. With the tie still in hand, he pulls it tighter once again as he pushes us both over the edge. I scream silently, the very last of the remaining air rushing from my lungs. I vaguely recognize my cum soaking the sheets beneath me before total blackness overcomes my senses.
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