After nibbling at his earlobe for a long time, Muheon’s lips slowly descended, a deliberate, sensual exploration that promised deeper intimacy.
He meticulously licked Hakyung’s slender nape, a delicate landscape of skin that seemed as if it could be held in one hand, a stark and captivating contrast to the powerful strength contained within Muheon’s own grip.
Since Hakyung was inherently sensitive to cold, it was both pitiful and exquisitely adorable how he would flinch, a tiny, involuntary shiver, whenever Muheon’s tongue made contact with his skin.
Each subtle shiver that ran through Hakyung’s frame, a testament to his heightened sensitivity, only spurred Muheon to lick him even more carefully, more patiently, with an almost reverent tenderness, until Hakyung was no longer surprised by the feel and the gentle warmth of his tongue.
Muheon desired for Hakyung to grow utterly accustomed to his touch, to welcome it without reservation, to yearn for it as a natural extension of their burgeoning connection.
“Ah…!”
The sound was a soft gasp, a breath caught in his throat, a whisper of burgeoning pleasure.
It was impossible for Hakyung to see the faint, glistening marks Muheon was leaving on his neck, small, tell-tale proofs of his burgeoning affection and possessiveness.
Amidst his daze, a pleasant, all-encompassing haze that settled over his senses, blurring the edges of reality, Hakyung let out a hollow laugh, a sound of pure, unadulterated contentment.
Looking closely, it seemed even his boss, usually so composed and impeccably rational in every situation, wasn’t entirely in control of himself when they were alone like this, stripped bare of their usual facades.
Though for Hakyung himself, his emotions, a tumultuous sea of feeling, usually overtook his reason when it came to his boss, even when it wasn’t a moment as profoundly intimate as this.
He was hopelessly, delightfully, irrevocably smitten, lost in the gravitational pull of Muheon’s presence.
Anyway, it was undeniably enjoyable, a deep, satisfying pleasure, to see his boss’s rather proud face, a subtle smirk playing on his lips, a silent declaration of his absolute satisfaction with his handiwork.
So, Hakyung gently tapped Muheon’s thigh with his heel, a small, encouraging gesture, a playful nudge.
It was the best compliment he could possibly give with his hands held, bound by Muheon’s gentle but firm grip, a secret language only they truly understood, a silent communication of desire and approval.
“Boss, now my chest, huff, please suck on it a bit.”
The request, though undeniably bold, was delivered with a hint of a plea, a vulnerable undertone that made it all the more compelling.
“Mmm.”
Muheon’s response was a low hum, a deep, resonant sound, an immediate affirmation that sent a thrilling shiver of anticipation through Hakyung’s entire being.
“Don’t just… answer!”
Hakyung’s voice held a playful admonishment, a feigned irritation that barely masked his underlying impatience.
He thrust out his chest, which had been throbbing and tingling with a pleasant ache for a while, yearning desperately for Muheon’s touch, for the promise of relief.
Since he was told to stay absolutely still, a delightful torture, he simply lay there, only his lips moving, articulating his desires with an almost childlike honesty.
Even with the “strong dolphin’s” bold request, Muheon nodded without showing any sign of displeasure, a silent promise of immediate gratification.
He found Hakyung’s forthrightness utterly charming, a refreshing contrast to the usual subtleties and unspoken desires of their interactions.
It was a testament to the deepening comfort and trust between them.
He leaned down, his mouth closing over Hakyung’s round, cute chest, a gentle suction drawing a soft, breathy moan from Hakyung, a sound that resonated deep within Muheon.
While his mouth worked its magic, a sensual dance of tongue and lips, his hand, ever restless, ever seeking, began to touch Hakyung’s penis.
It was utterly adorable, a sight that warmed Muheon’s ancient heart, how it had already stiffened, a vibrant testament to Hakyung’s overflowing arousal, peeking up, eager for attention, a flag of desire raised high.
Hakyung had whined earlier about being tired and unable to do anything, a charming protest, yet just a light touch would make it stand up with enthusiastic readiness, proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was still remarkably young, full of vibrant, boundless energy and unadulterated desire.
Muheon rolled his thumb around the sensitive tip of the glans, a slow, deliberate motion that sent exquisite shivers through Hakyung.
As his fingers moved with practiced ease, a knowing choreography, Hakyung’s voice changed its tone, escalating into a series of breathless gasps and soft, yearning whimpers, each one a spur to Muheon’s own escalating desire.
Muheon moved his hands even more busily, a flurry of motion, taking Hakyung’s moans not just as sounds, but as a beautiful, captivating song, a symphony of pleasure, a melody that fueled his own desire, pushing him further.
Hakyung, too, breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling, accepting everything Muheon did for him sweetly, surrendering completely to the exquisite sensations that coursed through his body.
There was a profound, unspoken trust between them, an understanding so deep it transcended words, an intimacy that deepened with every touch, every shared breath, every silent communication.
“Does it hurt?”
Muheon asked, his voice a low rumble, a note of concern woven into its husky depth, as he stroked Hakyung’s wrist, which was still clasped gently in his powerful hand.
Hakyung shook his head, a slight, almost imperceptible movement against the pillow, and wiggled his fingers, playfully tickling the back of Muheon’s hand, a small act of defiance.
Although his wrist was held, the grip was so light, so tender, that it didn’t cut off circulation or cause any pain or soreness whatsoever.
Rather than his wrist hurting, it was his shoulder that ached slightly, a dull, persistent throb from holding his arm up as if he were being punished, a minor discomfort in the grand scheme of things.
Yet, even that fleeting discomfort was a small price to pay, a negligible cost for the profound pleasure he was experiencing.
Still, if not now, when would he get to make his boss move with just his mouth?
The thought brought a mischievous glint to his eyes, a spark of playful rebellion.
Thinking that good things were good, and this was undeniably a very, very good thing, Hakyung lifted his lips until his cheeks puffed out in a silent, playful challenge, an unspoken dare.
“It’s okay. Mmm, but how long are we going to be like this?”
He wanted more, much more, but the small ache in his shoulder was a gentle, insistent reminder of their current, slightly awkward position.
“Well… how long should we do it…?”
Muheon, with a mischievous smile that played on his lips, didn’t give a definitive answer, choosing instead to prolong Hakyung’s delightful anticipation, to draw out this exquisite moment.
He focused intently on what he was doing, his attention unwavering.
Because of that deliberate evasiveness, Hakyung had to squirm beneath him, a playful, frustrated struggle, without being able to voice his opinion that his shoulder ached, that he longed for a different position.
Well, as long as his shoulder didn’t dislocate, a little muscle soreness was perfectly bearable, a small cost for such immense pleasure.
Hakyung had already returned to his spirited state, his earlier fatigue completely forgotten amidst the surging waves of passion.
Chomp, chomp.
A squelching sound echoed from his chest, a wet, rhythmic cadence, a testament to how long and thoroughly Muheon’s mouth had been there, leaving its warm, undeniable mark.
Hakyung groaned, a low, guttural sound of deep satisfaction, gazing at his boss’s beautiful black hair, which now filled his vision, obscuring everything else, a captivating curtain.
It hadn’t been long since he’d said he was okay, since he’d dismissed the discomfort, but already, an irresistible urge to reach out and touch that pretty hair, to run his fingers through its silken softness, overwhelmed him, an almost primal longing.
Hakyung stared intently at the crown of Muheon’s head, his gaze filled with a longing so deep it was almost tangible, a raw, undeniable desire.
If Muheon had a soft spot on his crown, a vulnerable point, it would have surely fluttered with the sheer intensity of Hakyung’s persistent, burning gaze.
Of course, Muheon was an Imoogi, an ancient, powerful, mythical being, not a mere “strong dolphin,” so he didn’t notice Hakyung’s intense scrutiny at all, lost in his own actions, in the captivating rhythm of their shared pleasure.
“Euuugh, mm!”
As Muheon’s hand swept broadly down the shaft, a deliberate, sensual stroke that promised further delights, Hakyung trembled uncontrollably and let out a long, drawn-out moan, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
He knew, with a certainty born of shared experience and deepening intimacy, that after sweeping down, Muheon would inevitably move to touch his testicles.
The time Hakyung had spent with Muheon, every stolen moment, had significantly improved his learning ability, making him anticipate every next move, every subtle shift in Muheon’s touch.
When his “bells” were gently rolled by his boss’s cool hand, a delightful contrast to the heat building within him, his churning mind would magically calm down, the chaotic thoughts settling, and he would also get equally aroused, a delicious paradox of sensation that left him breathless.
As Hakyung expected, Muheon carefully touched the shaft before expertly cupping Hakyung’s small testicles in his palm, the cool sensation spreading below, sending delicious shivers through his core and making Hakyung’s gluteal muscles clench involuntarily, a testament to the intense pleasure.
“Hmph…!”
It was always fascinating to Muheon, a small source of quiet amusement, to see that Hakyung’s small buttocks had such surprisingly defined muscles, even if they were hidden beneath layers of soft, inviting skin.
Muheon spread his fingers and gently tapped Hakyung’s buttocks, a light, teasing touch that sent sparks through Hakyung’s body.
His touch, though light, loosened the tense muscles, making them soft and pliant again quickly, like warm, yielding dough.
Muheon’s handprints, faint but visible, temporary imprints of his touch, were left on his soft, beautiful mochi-like cheeks, a testament to the pressure he applied.
No matter how much he tried to relax his grip, to lessen the pressure, seeing Hakyung’s pristine white buttocks made him instinctively apply more pressure, a primal urge wanting to leave his indelible mark, a temporary testament to his profound possession.
Hakyung, who already knew even that subtle desire in Muheon, that quiet urge to claim, bounced playfully on Muheon’s palm and chuckled softly, a light, airy sound that was pure joy.
A mixture of nasal sounds and laughter, a delightful symphony, reached Muheon’s ears, causing him to look up, his gaze, deep and knowing, meeting Hakyung’s.
“Why are you laughing?”
Muheon asked, a hint of curiosity mingling with amusement in his voice.
“Heh, Boss, you make a certain face every time you look at my butt.”
Hakyung’s eyes sparkled with mischievous amusement, a playful accusation.
“I do?”
Muheon feigned surprise, a practiced innocence, though a small, knowing smile played on his lips, betraying his true feelings.
“Hnnn, yeah!”
Hakyung nodded emphatically, a vigorous affirmation, then gently tapped Muheon’s thigh with his heel, a silent command for him to continue what he was doing, to prolong this exquisite torture.
A sigh-like laugh, a sound of deep contentment, escaped Muheon’s lips as he listened to Hakyung’s words, a soft sound of amusement and profound contentment.
Just as the boy had been tamed by him, willingly yielding to his desires, surrendering to his will, he too was slowly, delightfully, being tamed by the boy’s touch, by the boy’s vibrant body, by his playful spirit and his unwavering affection.
But that fact wasn’t embarrassing or unpleasant in the slightest; on the contrary, it was a source of immense pride.
He was filled with a profound delight and overwhelming amazement that Kang Hakyung, in all his captivating essence, existed in his subconscious, a constant, beautiful, and utterly irresistible presence.
Muheon, feeling even better, feeling an almost unbearable lightness, moved his upper body, his gaze fixed on Hakyung, leaning in to kiss his beautiful husband, a kiss filled with burgeoning love and overwhelming desire, a promise of everything to come.
While his mouth gave sweet and tender kisses, lingering on Hakyung’s lips, drawing out the delicious anticipation, his hand below relentlessly tormented Hakyung’s core and buttocks, a delightful duality of sensation that left Hakyung writhing with pleasure.
“Ah, ugh! Boss, huff…!”
Hakyung’s breath hitched, a soft, involuntary gasp escaping his lips.
He realized his own position was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, a slight strain in his shoulders, a dull ache beginning to set in.
He wondered momentarily if his boss was also very uncomfortable, given their intimately entwined position, their bodies pressed close.
But after examining Muheon, who seemed perfectly at ease, his powerful limbs effortlessly arranged, he quickly concluded that he needn’t worry about his boss.
Muheon’s limbs were so long and extended, so effortlessly graceful, so perfectly proportioned, that he didn’t seem at all uncomfortable in this demanding situation.
Hakyung should worry about his own shoulders, which were beginning to protest more vehemently.
Muheon kissed Hakyung’s lips a few more times, a leisurely, deeply satisfying series of pecks, each one a testament to his affection, before finally releasing his arms.
As his lightly held wrists were freed, Hakyung subtly glanced around, as if checking for unseen observers, a playful, almost mischievous gesture, before lowering his arms with a sigh of relief.
His arm muscles ached stiffly, a pleasant soreness that bespoke of their exertions, but not enough to make him frown or complain.
“Boss, can I move around freely now?” he asked, his voice eager, filled with a renewed sense of energy.
“Hmm, has your stamina come back yet?”
Muheon teased, a knowing glint in his eyes, a playful challenge in his tone.
“It came back a while ago! Look at my dick!”
Hakyung pushed his hips out with an enthusiastic “eung-cha,” a sudden, energetic thrust, and his dick, now fully engorged and dangling vibrantly from his center, wiggled a playful greeting to Muheon, a bold, undeniable salutation.
Muheon, letting out an unintentional laugh, a genuine burst of amusement that surprised even himself, hugged Hakyung tightly and rolled once around the bed, their bodies intimately entwined, a seamless blend of limbs and desire.
Hakyung, finding himself rolling in Muheon’s powerful arms, looked bewildered for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise at the sudden movement, before joining his boss in a small, shared laugh, the sound filling the room with their joy.
Muheon was doing such cute things, such spontaneous, joyful actions, because he liked Hakyung, right?
The thought filled Hakyung with a warm, expansive feeling, a sense of profound happiness.
Hakyung reached out and happily stroked Muheon’s black hair, which he hadn’t been able to touch before, reveling in its soft texture, its silken feel against his fingers.
He also didn’t forget to spread his legs and wrap them securely around his boss’s waist, clinging to him like a cicada clinging to an old, sturdy tree, utterly content and utterly secure.
Muheon lightly lifted and lowered Hakyung, adjusting their positions slightly, and rolled once more, a fluid, sensual movement that seemed effortless.
Even Muheon’s bird’s nest hair, usually a testament to his disheveled charm and casual indifference, looked perfectly decent, even appealing, with Hakyung’s soft, caressing touch, a transformation wrought by affection, making Hakyung fall for Muheon all over again, deeper than ever before, his heart swelling with love.
“Still, just stay still for now. This time, I’ll do everything.”
Muheon’s voice was a soft command, a profound promise of exquisite pleasure to come.
“Okay!”
Even though he was a “strong dolphin” with newly renewed energy, a playful nickname that suited his spirited nature and boundless vitality, he relaxed his body, yielding completely as his partner instructed, trusting Muheon implicitly, surrendering entirely to his desires.
Then, he suddenly lifted his head, a mischievous thought striking him, and made a playful suggestion, his eyes sparkling.
“Shouldn’t I touch Boss’s dick too?”
Hakyung wiggled his fingers, a silent, enticing invitation, and smacked his lips, anticipating the feel of Muheon’s formidable member.
It wasn’t cute like Kang Hakyung’s dick, nor was its number ordinary, a sly reference to Muheon’s legendary stamina and virility, his almost supernatural prowess, but he didn’t know why he was so eager to touch it every time, as if it were something truly amazing, a marvel of nature, a wonder to behold.
Muheon found Hakyung’s unique taste, his boundless fascination, difficult to understand at times, a charming enigma, but he didn’t stop him, not when Hakyung wanted to touch him so badly, when his desire was so palpable.
Muheon, with a gentle, guiding hand, led Hakyung’s small hand to his own center, guiding it with deliberate slowness, an act of intimate connection.
Hakyung inhaled sharply with a “Hee-ik!”, a sound of delighted surprise, a small gasp of wonder, and then happily, confidently, began to massage Muheon’s dick, his fingers exploring with enthusiastic curiosity.
It was hard to tell if Kang Hakyung was a natural, instinctively gifted in the art of pleasure, a true prodigy, or if Muheon’s dick was just too sensitive, getting hard so easily even without any particular technique, without any special skill.
It was probably the latter. When it came to Kang Hakyung, Muheon was too sensitive, too easy, too utterly captivated, too hopelessly smitten.
He was profoundly glad Hakyung cherished him, that he held such genuine affection for him; if Hakyung had harbored any ill intentions, any malicious thoughts, any manipulative desires, Muheon would have lost everything, his immense power, his very existence, and turned into sea foam, a mere wisp of memory, like some other unfortunate Imoogi who had succumbed to love’s treacherous currents.
It was inevitable that a profound gratitude and overwhelming affection would well up for Kang Hakyung, whom he had chosen, and who, in turn, had so willingly chosen him, a perfect, beautiful symbiosis of souls, a destined pairing.
“Oh, wow, it’s so substantial. How much trouble did our Boss go through to save this?” H
akyung murmured, his voice filled with a genuine awe and a touch of playful concern as he continued his ministrations, his fingers moving with knowing intent.
“What…?”
Muheon’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion, a small frown marring his perfect features, caught off guard by the unexpected question.
“Don’t tell me… you didn’t save it? You used it freely?!”
Hakyung, who had been happily touching Muheon’s dick just moments before, suddenly got angry again, a playful indignation flaring in his eyes, his voice rising in mock outrage.
He hadn’t even answered yet, so why was Hakyung getting mad first…?
But it was so undeniably cute, so utterly charming, so perfectly Hakyung, that Muheon couldn’t bring himself to be anything but amused, a quiet chuckle rumbling in his chest.
So, it was fine, more than fine.
Muheon, explaining patiently that he had never done that, that he had indeed “saved” it, a precious treasure, a sacred trust, buried his nose in Hakyung’s hair, which was now dry and fragrant, smelling faintly of their shared passion.
The soft spot on the crown of Hakyung’s head twitched, a delicate protest against Muheon’s playful nuzzle.
Even the soft spot on his crown was charmingly defiant, full of a spirited life.
Muheon carefully covered it with his palm, a protective gesture, a silent promise of care, then opened his mouth and playfully bit Hakyung’s cute head, a gentle, teasing nip that sent a shiver of delight through Hakyung.
“Ow! First it was my forehead! Boss, are you really a puppy?!”
Hakyung shrieked briefly, genuinely surprised, bitten in an unexpected place, his voice filled with playful indignation.
Muheon chuckled, a rich, deep sound that resonated through the room, at Hakyung’s dramatic reaction, finding endless amusement in his beloved’s theatricality and vibrant personality.
Even the time spent catching his breath before finally inserting himself felt incredibly sweet, deliciously prolonged by Hakyung’s delightful presence, every moment a cherished memory in the making.