17. Chapter Seventeen #4
Seyeon goes over onto his stomach and I follow, covering his body with mine, my chest against his back.
I slot my cock between his cheeks and push back in from behind, one arm bracing beside his head, the other sliding under his hip.
He makes a sound into the pillow, muffled, and pushes his ass back against me.
I press down, pinning him flat, and reach up to find his hands.
Lace my fingers through his and push them above his head, holding them there, stretching him out beneath me.
I kiss up his spine. Slow, open-mouthed, one vertebra at a time.
His skin tastes clean and warm and alive, his pulse hammering through every point of contact.
I grind my hips down, pressing deep inside him, grinding him into the bedding at the same time so his cock, hard again already, is trapped between his belly and the mat.
Seyeon groans, his fingers squeezing mine.
I fuck him like that. Face down, pinned under me, my hips driving into him with a punishing rhythm.
Every thrust pushes him down into the friction of the bedding, his cock rubbing against the fabric, and the combination makes him lose his mind.
He cries out with every snap of my hips, his voice getting louder, rawer, the sounds coming faster.
He comes with a shout, his body convulsing beneath mine, face buried in the pillow.
I feel his ass clench hard around me and I groan, pressing my mouth to the nape of his neck, biting gently as the squeeze of him pulls me over.
I shudder, my hips stuttering, heat flooding out of me as I empty myself inside him.
My fingers tighten between his and I hold on, trembling, pressing him down into the mat with the full weight of my body.
Seyeon becomes boneless. His breathing evens out. I press my forehead to the space between his shoulder blades and just lie there for a minute, feeling his heartbeat through his back.
Then I start moving again.
Seyeon makes a soft, confused sound as I pull out and kiss my way down his spine.
I take my time, lips trailing over each bump of bone, the warm expanse of his back.
I reach the curve of his lower back and pause.
There they are. The scattered freckles just above his hip, the little cluster of brown dots I first discovered at seventeen.
I press my mouth to each one individually, feel his skin jump beneath my lips, hear his breath catch.
One, two, three, four, five. A constellation on his body that I drew out in the dirt a lifetime ago and then permanently inked into my own skin because I’m a sentimental fool who couldn’t forget.
Seyeon lets out a long, shaking breath beneath me. His body softens into the mat like he’s melting.
I keep going. Lower, past his tailbone, my hands sliding beneath his hips. I cup them and pull them up, lifting his ass into the air. His knees slide under him instinctively but his upper body stays flat, cheek pressed to the pillow, he cranes his neck to look back at me, his eyes wild.
“Ryowoon, don’t you dare—”
I spread him open. His hole is flushed and swollen, puffy and pink, slick with my cum leaking out of him. I lean in and close my mouth over it. Seyeon jolts, his knees sliding on the mat.
“Ah! Shit, fuck—” His hands claw at the bedding, his back arching, trying to pull away but his hips push back toward my mouth. “What the fuck—”
I smile against him. My tongue slips into his body with no resistance, sliding into the mess I left inside him, the taste of it on my tongue is filthy and perfect.
I lap at it, in slow strokes, scooping the thick drops of my own release from his used hole and swallowing.
Seyeon’s cursing dissolves into a strangled whine as his thighs shake.
“Fuck, Ryowoon, that’s—”
I hum against him contentedly, and make a point of being loud about it.
Wet, slick sounds filling the quiet room as I slurp and lick, my tongue plunging into him, pulling out to trace his swollen rim before diving back in.
Seyeon whimpers, his forehead dropping against the pillow, one hand reaching back to grab at my hair and then letting go as if he can’t decide whether to push me away or hold me there.
I lick him clean, catch every last drop with my tongue, work him over until his thighs are trembling and the sounds coming from him are soft, helpless little noises. His cock is dripping again, hanging between his thighs, and I almost feel bad for how ruined he sounds.
When I finally pull back and press one last kiss to the base of his spine, Seyeon collapses forward onto the mat like his strings have been cut.
His breathing is strained, his face flushed to his ears, his hair plastered to his forehead.
He turns his head to glare at me with one eye, the look on his face is so utterly devastated and outraged at the same time that a laugh rumbles in my chest.
I stretch out beside him, pulling the blanket up over us both. Tug him against me, his back to my chest, and press my face into his hair.
I can’t remember the last time I felt this satisfied.