But I don’t say any of that. Because the way he said it knocked the fight right out of me.
I set the dildo down on the bed and start undressing. My fingers move through the buttons of my shirt one by one, and when it’s off I fold it and drape it over the back of the small chair beside the nightstand. My pants follow, then my underwear, each piece folded and stacked with a neatness that borders on compulsive, I can feel Hongjoong’s eyes on me the entire time, tracking every movement from his armchair across the room.
When I’m fully bare I climb onto the bed, and I start to turn over onto my hands and knees because that’s the position I default to, the one that’s easiest, the one that lets me hide my face.
“No.”
I stop. Hongjoong tuts from the armchair, one finger wagging slowly.
“On your back. Sit up against the headboard where I can see you.”
My jaw clenches. But I reposition, shifting back until my shoulders press against the pillows stacked against the headboard, my legs stretched out in front of me on the duvet. In this position I’m completely visible, every part of me on display, and there’s nowhere to hide from the weight of Hongjoong’s stare boring into me from across the room. My cock is already half-hard against my thigh, my body responding to his pheromones and the anticipation despite the embarrassment crawling up my neck and heating my face.
I pick up the lube and squeeze a generous amount onto the dildo, working it over the silicone with both hands until the surface is slick and gleaming. The toy is warm now from sitting on the bed, and the ridges catch against my palms as I coat them. Then I spread my legs, planting my feet flat on the mattress with my knees bent and apart, and reach down between them.
The blunt head of the dildo presses against my hole and I suck in a breath through my nose. I push, and my body resistsimmediately, the sheer girth of the thing forcing a burn through my rim that makes me hiss and clench involuntarily around the tip. I stop, breathing slowly through my mouth, willing the tension out of my muscles. Slick is already gathering, my body’s automatic response to the pressure, and I use it, rocking the head of the dildo in small circles against my entrance until the resistance starts to give.
I push again, and this time the head breaches me. I gasp, my free hand fisting the duvet beside my hip as the stretch widens, my rim pulling taut around the thick silicone. It burns. I keep going, feeding it in incrementally, an inch and then a pause, another inch and another pause, my breath hitching with each small advance as my body opens around it. The ridges drag along my walls on the way in, each one a distinct bump of sensation that makes my cock twitch and leak against my stomach.
By the time the dildo is fully seated inside me I’m shaking. A full-body shudder rolls through me from my shoulders down to my curling toes, and I let out a sound I didn’t intend to make through my clenched teeth. The pressure is enormous, filling me completely, and my cock is fully hard now, flushed and curved up against my belly with a bead of precum sliding down the shaft. Slick leaks around the base of the toy and drips onto the duvet beneath me.
I give myself a few seconds to adjust, then I start to move it.
The first stroke is slow, pulling the dildo back until just the head remains inside me before pushing it deep again, and the drag of those ridges along my inner walls sends a jolt up my spine that makes my hips jerk. I do it again, and again, building, my wrist working steadily as I fuck myself on the toy in strokes that grow longer and harder as my body loosens around it. The wet sounds of slick and lube fill the quiet bedroom, my breathing has gone ragged, each exhale coming out as a shaky pant.
My eyes find Hongjoong across the room. He hasn’t moved from the armchair, but everything about his posture has changed. He’s leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, his gaze fixed on the space between my legs with an intensity that makes my skin burn. His cock is visibly straining against the front of his pants, a thick hard line that he’s making no effort to hide or adjust, and one of his hands is gripping the arm of the chair hard enough that I can see the tendons standing out across the back of his hand.
Something about being watched like this, about performing something this intimate while he sits fully clothed and composed across the room, makes me feel more exposed than I’ve ever felt with a client. With other alphas I could disappear inside my own head, could go through the motions without really being present. But Hongjoong’s eyes won’t let me leave. They pin me here, in this body, in this moment, feeling every inch of the toy inside me and every degree of heat in his stare.
I angle my hips and thrust the dildo deeper, harder, and on the next stroke I tilt it just right and the head drags directly across my prostate. My back arches off the headboard and a moan slips out of me, my cock jumping and leaking a fresh streak of precum across my stomach. I do it again, chasing the sensation, my hips rolling down onto the toy as I fuck myself with it in earnest now, the headboard creaking faintly behind me with each downward push.
The pressure builds fast after that, coiling tight and hot at the base of my spine, and when it breaks I come with a sound that’s closer to a sob than a moan, my hole clenching hard around the dildo as my cock pulses and spurts onto my stomach in thick ropes. My thighs tremble violently and my head tips back against the headboard, mouth open, chest heaving, the aftershocks rolling through me in waves that make my whole body twitch.
Hongjoong is out of the chair before I’ve even finished. His shirt goes over his head and hits the floor, his hands shoving his pants down his hips as he crosses the distance to the bed in three strides. He grips the base of the dildo and pulls it out of me in one smooth motion, and I gasp at the sudden emptiness, my hole fluttering and clenching, slick and lube dripping out of me onto the sheets. The toy gets tossed somewhere off the side of the bed with a heavy thud.
Then his hands close around my hips and he drags me down the mattress, my back sliding across the duvet until I’m flat, and he doesn’t reposition me, doesn’t flip me over, just hooks my legs over his forearms and spreads me wide and lines up with my still-trembling, gaping hole. The blunt head of his cock presses against me, searing hot and so much thicker than the toy, alive in a way that silicone can never replicate, and he slams in with one brutal thrust that buries him to the root.
I keen, my spine arching clean off the mattress, my hands flying up to grip his shoulders as the stretch rips through me. Because the difference between the toy and Hongjoong is staggering. He’s hotter, harder, and I can feel him everywhere, the thick drag of his cock against my oversensitive walls, the heat of his skin against my inner thighs, the head of his cock pressing so deep it brushes against the entrance to my womb, hitting a spot so far inside me that none of the alphas I’ve taken over the years have ever reached it. My vision goes spotty at the edges and my mouth falls open but nothing comes out, just a silent cry that locks in my throat as my body tries to cycle through the overwhelming fullness.
Hongjoong drapes himself over me, one arm braced beside my head, his face dropping into the curve of my neck. His tongue drags hot and wet over my scent gland and I shudder violently beneath him, a fresh wave of slick flooding around his cock as my body responds to the stimulation of that sensitive spot. Hismouth traces up along the line of my jaw, then finds the shell of my ear, his breath fanning hot against it as he starts to move in deep, grinding rolls that press his cock against every nerve ending inside me.
His mouth moves lower, lips dragging down my chest until they close over one of my nipples. He sucks hard, tongue flicking the peak, and then his teeth graze it and I cry out, my back bowing up into his mouth as I come again, my hole squeezing around his cock in pulses. The overstimulation is blinding, my body wrung out and shaking, tears pricking the corners of my eyes and sliding down my temples into my hair as I gasp through it. Hongjoong groans against my chest at the clench and doesn’t stop, fucking me through the orgasm with a pace that builds steadily, his hips snapping harder until each thrust rocks the headboard against the wall with a dull thud.
When his knot starts to swell I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him deeper, too fucked out to do anything else, my body operating on instinct now. The knot catches at my rim, stretching me wider with each thrust until it locks inside me with a pressure that makes me sob, a broken sound that I muffle against his shoulder. Hongjoong’s cock pulses as he comes, filling me with heat, and his arms tighten around me, holding me against his chest as we both shake through it.
We end up forehead to forehead, faces inches apart, breathing each other’s air. His eyes are open and so are mine. Hongjoong’s thumb traces a slow line along my cheekbone, wiping away the dampness there, and his mouth parts like he’s about to say something.
I close my eyes before he can.
The balcony off Hongjoong’s bedroom is narrow, barely wide enough for two people to stand side by side, but the view stretches across the entire southern half of the city in a sprawl of lights and dark patches where the parks and the river cut through the grid. I lean my forearms against the railing and let the cool night air wash over my bare skin, goosebumps rising along my arms and across my chest as the breeze hits the thin sheen of sweat I haven’t bothered to shower off yet. Hongjoong’s boxers sit low on my hips, the waistband too loose, the fabric bunching where I’ve rolled it once to keep them from sliding down entirely. My own clothes are somewhere on the bedroom floor in a pile I’ll deal with later.
I fish my cigarettes out of the pocket where I’d tucked them before coming outside, tap one free, and bring it to my lips. The lighter takes two flicks before the flame catches, and I cup my hand around it against the wind and inhale deep, holding the smoke in my lungs until the nicotine hits and my shoulders drop a full inch. I exhale slowly, watching the smoke curl and scatter into the dark, and take another drag.
My body is still humming. Not just the ache, though that’s there too, a deep soreness settled into my hips and lower back and the insides of my thighs that I know from experience will be worse tomorrow morning. It’s the other thing, the buzzing warmth that lingers after good sex that loosens your joints and makes your thoughts go soft and slow. I don’t usually feel it after work. Most of the time when I leave a client’s bed I feel hollowed out, scraped clean, ready to shower and sleep and forget. ButHongjoong’s hands and mouth and the relentless way he keeps dragging genuine responses out of me have left me in a state I don’t know how to come down from, so I smoke and watch the city lights blink and shift below and try to let the night air do the work.
I hear the glass door slide open behind me and glance over my shoulder. Hongjoong steps out onto the balcony barefoot, wearing only a pair of black joggers slung low enough that the V of muscle at his hips is visible above the waistband, the tattoo on his right side dark against his skin in the dim light filtering from the bedroom. His hair is mussed, the blonde strands falling across his forehead instead of styled back, and he looks relaxed in a way that softens the sharp angles of his face. He leans against the railing beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off his arm, and without a word he reaches over and plucks a cigarette from the open pack still in my hand.
I don’t say anything. I just flick the lighter and cup the flame with my palm as he bends down toward it, the tip of the cigarette glowing orange as he inhales. The brief closeness puts his face inches from mine, the lighter flame catching in his eyes for a second before he straightens and blows smoke out over the railing.
