Tseng is a patient man, and both of them are very bad at taking no for an answer. It is that very reason why their agendas align so smoothly; they are as a pair so ruthlessly ambitious.
The corners of Tseng's lips curl when Rufus does say the words. He leans in, close enough to kiss, but not yet. He wants to watch the look in Rufus's eyes when he sinks him down on to his waiting cock, while he spears deeply into his insides, his breath freezing in his throat. It always feels better than the last time, somehow, and Rufus is not the only one who has been kept waiting.
He lets Rufus rest for a moment, thoroughly impaled, as his fingers skitter across his president's throat.
"Do not lean into my hand," he commands as his fingers pinch Rufus's throat shut, cutting off his air supply. He knows exactly how to do this without leaving so much as a faded bruise, but there is still more room for error than he would like. And then he moves again, thrusting hard into Rufus's heat, rubbing his thumb over the rising beat of his pulse, with no intention of letting him breathe until it is pounding.
no subject
The corners of Tseng's lips curl when Rufus does say the words. He leans in, close enough to kiss, but not yet. He wants to watch the look in Rufus's eyes when he sinks him down on to his waiting cock, while he spears deeply into his insides, his breath freezing in his throat. It always feels better than the last time, somehow, and Rufus is not the only one who has been kept waiting.
He lets Rufus rest for a moment, thoroughly impaled, as his fingers skitter across his president's throat.
"Do not lean into my hand," he commands as his fingers pinch Rufus's throat shut, cutting off his air supply. He knows exactly how to do this without leaving so much as a faded bruise, but there is still more room for error than he would like. And then he moves again, thrusting hard into Rufus's heat, rubbing his thumb over the rising beat of his pulse, with no intention of letting him breathe until it is pounding.