Sir

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My confidence had been nearly obliterated by now. With the way Vic was gently dragging his hands along my clothed chest, all the way up to my the collar of my shirt, I couldn't think rationally.

He made sure to lock eyes with me and smirk evilly, making me feel slightly intimidated. I watched him trail his hands down once again, then from the sides of my hips up to my chest, his eyes still burning holes into mine. My heartbeat quickened once his hands had reached the top button of my shirt, his nimble fingers working to release it from its confinement. I quickly glanced down to see what he was doing, my hands still cuffed, leaving me helpless.

If I didn't feel this odd pang of attraction to him right now, it could be considered rape. But, technically, I never told him "no", so he still had my consent. And even if I did decide to listen to the dominant part of my brain and back out, I couldn't. We still had some sort of deal in place, and I still couldn't risk him telling the world about my secret career.

Once he had successfully unbuttoned the top one, he also looked down to watch himself, proceeding to unsecure the following buttons until finally reaching the last one. My breathing was beyond shaky as he pushed the fabric of my shirt aside, revealing the lightly-toned skin underneath.

"So pale," he whispered. He ogled at my nearly-white chest, tracing his fingers along it, starting from my collarbones. I anxiously stood there, my "dominance" tactic rapidly diminishing when his hands stopped to rest on my bare hips. He then looked up at me, locking his eyes with mine once again.

All of a sudden, I noticed that all-too-familiar spark emerge from his deep brown eyes as he smirked at me. I knew it too well. The twinks who would top me almost always displayed that spark directly before fucking me.

Lust.

"Come here," he said, taking a few steps back until he reached his bed.

I hesitantly obliged. My conscience wanted me to disobey him, but the tingly sensation in my stomach thought differently. I didn't know what was wrong with me. It was like my motives were clouded by lust, but it wasn't lust. It wasn't "love" either, considering that I had just formally met him the day before. It was something entirely different and I had no idea what it was.

"Lay down there. On your stomach," he sternly added, pointing towards the empty space in the center of the bed.

I didn't know what made me do it, but I listened. It was hard to maneuver around with my hands cuffed behind my back, but I was eventually able to manage. There was no other way to do it, so I let my body flop face-first onto the plush surface.

Vic must've noticed how uncomfortable I looked with my face buried in his pillow, because a few seconds later I felt myself being pulled back so that my face was pressed into the pillow, my ass sticking up in the air. My upper body felt a slight chill due to my shirt's unbuttoned state, but I stayed silent. It wasn't like I wanted it buttoned up again, that was for sure.

As if Vic knew what I had been thinking about, he began trailing his hands along my back, bunching up the fabric of my shirt and pushing it towards my neck and shoulders, leaving me nearly bare from the waist up.

"Don't speak unless I tell you to," he ordered. I peeked behind me to see him inconspicuously gazing at my ass.

He looked completely infatuated. All of a sudden, his hands were at the hem of my jeans, pulling to get them off.

Now I was nervous. I had just had sex an hour before this, which meant that my ass wouldn't really be in the best condition.

"Vic, I don't thin-"

"Did I tell you to speak?" he interrupted me. His eyes met mine and showed a stern, sultry expression.

"No," I said, somehow willing to surrender myself.

Chemistry ж Kellic (BoyxBoy)Where stories live. Discover now