HIS REQUEST (ZHANYI[ZSWW]FANFIC)

CHAPTER TWO

With gentle hands, Zhan probed Yibo’s belly.

Pressing carefully, moving right to left. There was absolutely nothing sensual or even mildly erotic in his touch, but by the time he reached the waistband, Yibo’s erection was tenting the placket of his trousers.

Impossible not to notice, yet aside from a slight furrow on his brow, Zhan’s features remained wiped clean of emotion.

“I will need to unbutton your trousers to finish the examination.”

Zhan followed words with action.

Yibo’s breaths stuttered as the top button was tugged from its mooring. Then the next button and the next. The arch of his erection was the only thing keeping his trousers from falling down his hips. Warm fingers continued their exploration, probing gently, stopping just before they encountered the dark thatch of hair on his groin.

Arms locked at his sides, Yibo stood perfectly still.

Resisted the urge to thrust his hips forward, to grab Zhan's hand and press it over his hard cock, to get some sort of friction.

Leaning back in the chair, Zhan’s hands left Yibo’s body.

“I did not encounter anything to cause concern. Did you experience any pains during the examination?”

“It didn’t hurt, but it made my insides go into knots.”

“And your arse, does it ache?”

Zhan asked, all seriousness, looking up at Yibo.

Yibo nodded.

He marveled at Zhan’s ability to ask such a question and keep even a hint of a smirk from touching his lips. It was all Yibo could do to stay in character, to not beg Zhan to bend him over the desk and bugger him senseless. To not grab Zhan, crush his mouth over Zhan’s, and have the man in his arms.

Zhan went back behind the desk and pulled a wooden box from a drawer. Yibo recognized the box—it had been on one of the bookshelves when he’d purchased a house a year ago and there it had stayed until now. How could stray pencils and bits of string play into their game?

“Mr. Wen was correct in referring you to me. I am going to prescribe a remedy which should alleviate your aches and allow you to relax enough to sleep soundly.”

Zhan came back around the desk and set the box near the edge, within easy distance of the chair.

He lifted the lid.

Inside were not bits of string or pencils, but a bottle of oil and three dildos.

Two in marble—one slim and short and one slightly larger—and a third in steel that rivaled Zhan’s cock in length and width. All of which had come from Yibo’s bedside table drawer.