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Perfect Moment

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He looks so beautiful naked. If it were up to me he would be naked all the time. Such beauty shouldn't be covered.

I kept him on the verge of orgasm for the last hour, reducing him to incoherent begging and gasping moans. When I let him come, he almost passed out from the intensity of pleasure.

He's sleeping now, my tired beauty, his arms still tied to the bedpost with the soft silk scarves bought especially for that occasion. His body spread before me like a feast. Mine. Only mine. Nobody touches him but me. He can break all the rules and I'll forgive him. I forgave him so much already. But that one rule in unbreakable and not the subject of any discussion. He has the scars on his back to prove it.

It was painful to mar that perfect body, but I had to teach him who he belongs to. He thought he could come to me with his lips swollen from kisses and the scent of another on his skin. He was crying softly, spread-eagled on my bed, as my belt marked his back with red welts. I had to do it, I had to make him understand that he's mine. I knew no words could convince him, he doesn't believe words, he lied and was lied to too many times.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered embracing me tightly when I freed his hands and legs, his eyes wet with tears begging me to believe and to forget. I hushed him with a kiss and made him sob again this time from pleasure as he came in my mouth.

My hand slowly falls on my half-erect cock stroking it to a full hardness. I fucked him twice tonight. I want to do it again.

First time was fast and hard. I tore the clothes from his body, impatient, hungry, trembling with lust, pushing fingers, wet with my saliva, through the tight ring of muscle, forcing the entry, stretching and probing, until he was crying from pain and pleasure.

I sank into him, his hot channel enclosing me in a way so familiar and yet so thrilling and new each time. I came deep within him soon, too soon, feeling his body shuddering beneath me as his come coated my hand.

"Love you," he said turning on his back. His eyes, huge and green, beautiful, questioning, searching my face. He needed confirmation and I gave it to him, worshipping him with my lips, my tongue and my hands.

He tried to protest when I was tying his arms to the bedpost, but I silenced him with a kiss again, ravaging his mouth and stealing his breath until he was gasping for air. He wasn't protesting after that, only writhed and asked for more.

And then the teasing started. Bringing him to madness with caress and touch and kiss.

When I got bored with kissing his eyes, I moved to his neck sucking on the tender skin leaving tiny marks of my possession there. And then to his chest, torturing his nipples with my teeth, eliciting whimpers and pleas, which were becoming more and more desperate when my mouth traveled lower on his body.

I licked his thighs, avoiding his stiff organ. I kissed my way down his legs to his feet and then again up. My hands were keeping his legs spread wide and open for me. I could see my come seeping from between his buttocks and my cock twitched, wanting to be there again, wanting to plunge into the welcoming heat of his body.

I rose above him, his legs already on my arms, my hard organ pressing against his opening. His body tensed with expectation.

"Do you want it, Alex?" I asked, with perverse pleasure observing his struggle to speak as my fingers teased his rigid cock with feather-like touches.

"Yes..." he gasped. "Please...Mulder..."

Oh, I could give him anything when he says my name in that husky, bedroom voice, ready to take me in and I see love shining in his eyes.

I moved slowly, inch by inch, filling him, possessing him, loving him. His hands clenched in fists, black silk squeezing his wrists, his inner muscles squeezing me and I came again, pushing deep into him until the last drops of my seed spilled into his body.

Now my cock is hard and leaking. I can't wait anymore. I want to be inside him so badly that I can taste it. I want his body to surround me, to let me in, I want to loose myself in him.

Love can be like bondage. I can't get him off my mind. I never could.

I bend above him and capture his lips in a hard, possessive kiss. His lips part for me, hot mouth open to my claiming.

Sleepy, heavy lidded eyes glaze over as I push my knees between his legs and lift his hips onto my lap. My cock slips easily into his wet and slick passage. I start to move and I'm not gentle. His moans are getting louder, the silk scarves tighten as I jerk his ass violently, impaling him on my cock with punishing force. It's all there, lust and longing, blinding desire, the protectiveness and the possessiveness. A heady mixture.

He cries hoarsely, his arm muscles tense painfully, but I don't stop. I want him to remember when he'll leave at dawn. I want to leave a space in him so he can feel me every day he won't be here. And I know he will. And I know he'll come back for more.

And when I come deep inside him, my sperm splashing his inner channel, I experience it again. My moment. My perfect moment with him.