It burned. But not like before.
Not like Minseok’s thrusts—cruel, fast,unforgiving, never asking if it hurt.
This was something else.
A different kind of fire.
Not damage.
Undoing.
He gasped, voice cracking: “More. You—you have to—fuck, I don’t even know what I—”
“You don’t have to know,” Seungho rasped. “Just feel.”
A third finger joined the others, thick and deliberate. He worked him open slowly, fucking him on his hand while sucking the flushed tip of Haneul’s cock into his mouth, tongue swirling, breath hot and merciless making it harden again.
Haneul was wrecked—hair wild, lips bitten, body arching and jerking with every stretch, every pulse.
“Seungho—fuck—you’re gonna—ah—gonna make me come again—”
“No,” Seungho growled, pulling away, voice like scorched velvet. “Not yet.”
He coated his cock in lube, breath jagged, and settled between Haneul’s spread legs.
He looked at him.
Really looked.
“You sure?”
Haneul’s gaze met his.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my goddamn life.”
Seungho braced onehand on the mattress beside Haneul’s head, the other guiding his cock down—tip slipping against the tight, slick entrance—and then pressed in.
The stretch made Haneul cry out—a sound caught between pain and praise, hips jolting upward before Seungho caught them in an iron grip.
“Breathe,” he said, voice trembling. “You’re doing so fucking well. Let me—let me have you.”
And gods, he did.
He fucked Haneul with slow, punishing thrusts at first—inch by inch, letting him feel everything—every thick pulse, every slick push deeper, every grind of pelvis to ass. His cock felt impossibly deep inside him, thick and hard and perfect, hitting something electric every time their hips met.
Haneul sobbed. Bit Seungho’s shoulder. Dragged his nails down his back.
“Harder,” he gasped. “Faster—I want—I need—”
And Seungho gave it.
Snapped his hips forward, long thrusts turning rough, relentless, the bed slamming against the wall with every rhythm. The sound of wet skin, of moans barely muffled, of breath hitching and curses dropped like prayers.
“I’m going to fucking breed you,” Seungho snarled, lips against his ear. “You’ll feel me for days.”
Haneul screamed—an unholy sound, cock twitching untouched between them.
Seungho shifted, angled his thrusts—hit that spot again and again until Haneul was shaking, begging, coming untouched between their stomachs, moaning his name like blasphemy.
