Tseng gives Rufus a few hard thrusts in response, his fingers rough, purposefully avoiding spearing upon the places Tseng knows Rufus wants it most. And then they withdraw; he holds them away and brings them down again as a stinging slap across Rufus's cheeks.

"If I am to do these things for you," he says, eyes on Rufus and his icey blue eyes even as he drags his teeth across his skin, "then it shall be on my terms. I need complete control if I am to guarantee your safety, Mr. President."

His fingers slide within him once more, and his touches are fleeting, teasing, just enough to keep him on edge while he awaits his response.