The urgency of our desire propelled us into a flurry of movement. Clothes seemed to vanish in a breathless rush. One moment I was clothed, the next the cool night air kissed my bare skin. Beside me, Levi wrestled with the fastenings of his trousers, a hint of a frustrated growl escaping his lips. My gaze, already drawn to the lean lines of his body revealed in the moonlight, snagged on a dark discoloration just above his ankle – a distinct, purplish bruise marring the otherwise pale skin.

The urgency of the moment faltered. "Levi, what happened there?" I asked, my voice laced with a sudden concern that cut through the haze of desire.

He glanced down at his ankle, a dismissive wave of his hand accompanying his reply. "Oh, this? Nothing of importance, pulla." His tone was casual, almost flippant, but the tightness around his jaw suggested otherwise.

Do I dwell on it? Do I keep pressing him to explain?

"Please, do not let anything distract us now," Levi murmured, his voice a low, husky plea against my ear, his hands gently but firmly guiding me towards the bed. My curiosity, however, remained piqued by the unexplained bruise, a small knot of concern tightening in my chest. Yet, the magnetic pull of his presence, the undeniable anticipation of his touch, made it difficult to resist.

As I settled onto the soft mattress, he followed. Then, with a deliberate slowness that heightened the anticipation, he knelt between my parted legs. A low groan escaped his lips as he began to explore the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate patterns, the warmth of his breath sending shivers through me. Gentle nibbles followed, each soft pressure a spark igniting a fire within me.

Then, with a deliberate reverence, he finally lowered his head. The anticipation stretched taut before the first delicate flick of his tongue grazed the sensitive tip of my cock. A low groan escaped my lips, involuntary and immediate.

Oh, fuck.

He wasn’t an expert, no. There was a tentative quality to his ministrations, a slight hesitation in his rhythm. Yet, compared to the awkward fumblings of our past encounters, this felt… different. More assured. More focused on my pleasure. A subtle shift, a newfound confidence in his touch. Wait.

Had he… practiced?

My hand shot out, gripping the back of his head, halting his ministrations with a sudden, decisive tug. "You," I demanded, my voice a low growl, "did you practice or what?"

He recoiled slightly, pulling back with a look of genuine offense clouding his features. "Truly, Raphael? My loyalty to you has never once wavered.”

"But you are better than the last time, Levi," I countered, my voice softening slightly but still holding a note of genuine confusion. I released his head, my fingers now tracing the sharp line of his jaw, my gaze searching his eyes for an explanation beyond wounded pride. "Significantly better. There's a... confidence, a focus I didn't sense before. And while I appreciate it, it also makes me wonder." My thumb brushed his lower lip. "Did you... think about it? Did you... perhaps read something?"

A slow, deliberate smile spread across Levi's face, chasing away the wounded look and replacing it with a quiet intensity. His hand reached up, covering mine on his jaw, his thumb tracing the line of my knuckles.

"No, Raphael," he said, his voice low and husky, his gaze unwavering. "I never once stopped thinking about it." He leaned in, his breath warm against my lips. "Every touch, every sensation from before... they were etched in my memory. I may not have had... extensive experience," a hint of a self-deprecating smile flickered across his lips, "but I am a quick study when the subject matter is this... compelling."

Damn his poetic mouth.

He shifted, crawling back with a newfound assurance that sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. Leaning in close, he exhaled a warm, tantalizing breath against the tip of my cock, a prelude that made my breath catch in my throat. Then, with a confident glide, his tongue traced the entire length of me, a slow, deliberate exploration that left a trail of fire in its wake. Soft kisses followed, interspersed with the wet heat of his licks, a masterful blend of tenderness and raw desire that had me arching against him almost immediately.

Oh, fuck yes. This was a different Levi, a Levi unleashed.

There is an undeniable thrill, a primal stirring that resonates deep within your core, when a man who commands nations, whose words carry the weight of law, is kneeling before you, his focus entirely consumed by the task of pleasuring you. To witness that complete surrender of power in such an intimate act, sends a delicious shiver of control and desire coursing through your veins, making your toes curl in anticipation.

The feather-light touch of his kisses gradually intensified, his lips parting. A soft, wet heat enveloped me as his tongue danced delicately against the tip, a teasing exploration that sent jolts of pleasure radiating outwards. Then, with a slow, deliberate slide, he took more of me into his mouth, the pressure building, a delicious friction igniting a fire in my loins. Each inch he took felt like a complete surrender to the moment, and I found myself instinctively thrusting forward, eager for more of his captivating attention.

His tongue worked its magic, flicking and swirling, teasing and tantalizing, driving me closer and closer to the edge. A low groan rumbled in my chest, my hands tangling in his hair as I surrendered completely to the sensations he was so expertly orchestrating. Every nerve ending screamed for release, and I knew it wouldn't be long before I shattered completely in his mouth.

"Levi," I gasped, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts, my body arching against his mouth, "I'm close..."

He paused, his lips still firmly around me, and lifted his gaze to meet mine. A small, almost imperceptible nod, a flicker of permission in the depths of his eyes, was all the confirmation I needed. And with that unspoken consent, the dam broke.

Damn it. Was I truly that skittish, that easily overwhelmed? Less than ten minutes and the building pressure had detonated. A strangled cry escaped my lips, the intensity of the orgasm momentarily blinding. My thighs trembled, my grip on his hair tightening as the last pulsing waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me breathless and utterly spent.

Ten minutes. Pathetic. Yet, even in my self-deprecating thoughts, there was a kernel of satisfaction.

Then, this devil, this seductive devil, slowly opened his mouth, my cum still glistening on his lips and tongue. His dark eyes, now even more intense, locked onto mine, a silent, knowing smirk playing on his lips. It was a blatant display that sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in my belly despite my spent state. Damn him.

Slowly, deliberately he tilted his head back and swallowed. Every single drop. A fresh wave of heat pulsed through me, a confusing mix of arousal and a strange sense of possessiveness. The smirk on his lips deepened.

He is the Devil, truly.

Ten minutes...

That infuriatingly seductive smirk still etched on his face, Levi's hands moved with a sudden, possessive strength, gripping my thighs and effortlessly lifting me. The shift in position brought me closer, intimately so, his deep blue eyes never leaving mine. Then, with a deliberate slowness that made my breath hitch, his tongue dipped low, finding the slick heat of my entrance. A gasp escaped my lips.

His tongue traced the delicate folds, each slow, deliberate lick sending shivers of anticipation through my body. He explored the sensitive skin, his warm breath ghosting over me, building the pressure with agonizing slowness. Then, with a deeper thrust of his tongue, he breached my entrance, the unexpected sensantion sending a jolt of pure sensation. He lapped and swirled, his focus absolute, his hands gripping my thighs to keep me firmly in place. The intensity built with each insistent stroke, a primal rhythm that threatened to unravel my control. I groaned, my fingers tangling in his hair, my body arching instinctively towards his relentless ministrations.

His head moved with a deliberate rhythm, his tongue a relentless instrument of pleasure, exploring every inch of me. I could feel the heat of his breath, the subtle flex of his jaw with each thrust of his tongue. He wasn't rushing, wasn't frantic, but utterly absorbed in the act, his focus unwavering. A low growl rumbled in his throat with each deeper penetration, a primal sound that resonated deep within me, fueling the fire of my arousal. His dark hair fell forward, partially obscuring his face. It was a performance of complete surrender to the act of pleasuring me, and it was driving me wild.

My hips began to buck involuntarily. His grip on my thighs tightened in response, a silent command to remain still, to let him dictate the pace. I could feel the wetness of his mouth, the insistent pressure, the way he seemed to savor every intimate touch. My breath came in short, ragged gasps, my head lolling back.

He was a master, a devilish maestro conducting a symphony of lust.

Maybe Levi finally understood what I meant by two pigs, in wallowing in filth.

“Levi, don’t make me cum again…”

A low growl rumbled in Levi's throat, a sound that vibrated against my skin. He paused for a fleeting moment, his lips still intimately pressed against me.

"And why not?" he murmured, his voice thick with a mixture of amusement and desire. "Are you afraid of a little... repetition? Or perhaps," his tongue flicked out, tracing a searing line along my sensitive skin, "you simply underestimate my stamina?"

The deliberate taunt, the blatant challenge in his tone, only served to heighten the exquisite torture.

"Levi..." I gasped, my hips bucking again despite my plea, the insistent throbbing building once more. "Don't tease..."

His only response was a deeper, more insistent thrust of his tongue, a silent promise that he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

My breath hitched, my muscles clenching involuntarily as the familiar pressure began to build once more, hotter and faster this time. The world swam into a hazy focus, the only sensation that truly registered was the insistent, masterful work of his mouth. I could feel the tightening in my core, the telltale signs of another orgasm cresting on the horizon.

"Levi..." I moaned again, a desperate sound torn from my throat, my hands gripping his hair, my body arching uncontrollably. The edge was closer now, the precipice of release looming.

“You are going to make me cum, again…”

A low chuckle rumbled against my skin, a sound that was both possessive and triumphant. He paused his ministrations for a heartbeat, just long enough to meet my gaze, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"And isn't that the point, Pulla?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "To bring you to the edge, again and again?"

Then, without waiting for a response, his tongue plunged deeper, the rhythmic lapping resuming with a fierce intensity. My breath hitched, a strangled cry escaping my lips as the first violent tremors of another orgasm ripped through me, seizing my muscles in their relentless grip. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen glorious, torturous minutes of nothing but his mouth and the unwavering pressure of his hands on my thighs. Fifteen minutes of pure, unadulterated sensation orchestrated by this devilish man. Fuck. Fifteen minutes. Just his mouth, his focused attention. Fuck.

The aftershocks of my second orgasm rippled through me, leaving me limp and breathless. My grip on his hair loosened, my head lolling back against the pillow. Levi finally lifted his head, his lips glistening, his deep blue eyes hooded with a satisfied intensity. He didn't say a word, just watched me, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. Fifteen minutes. He had brought me to the edge twice with nothing but his mouth and hands. He truly was a master of his own brand of seduction.

Then, with a fluid grace that belied his imposing stature, Levi rose onto his knees on the bed. His shadow stretched long and dark, a powerful silhouette that loomed over me, eclipsing the soft moonlight filtering through the window. I was pinned beneath his gaze, caught once more in the gravitational pull of his presence. Less than thirty minutes had passed since our hesitant reunion, and already, the walls I had built during our separation had crumbled. I was orbiting him again, completely and utterly succumbed to his power.

"Ready, Pulla?" Levi murmured, his voice a low, husky drawl that sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. The darkness of his shadow intensified the predatory gleam in his eyes, and that knowing, devilish grin plastered across his face spoke volumes of the pleasure he intended to inflict – and receive.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, deliberately licking each one, the wet sounds echoing in the quiet room. A bead of his saliva glistened on his fingertip as he positioned himself, then slowly, with excruciating gentleness, he pressed the tip of his middle finger against my tight entrance. A sharp intake of breath escaped my lips, the pressure both a shock and a spark of burgeoning desire.

Once his middle finger had slid inside, stretching me open with surprising ease and a welcome lack of discomfort, a subtle shift occurred in his demeanor. The intensity in his eyes softened ever so slightly, replaced by an almost reverent focus. He paused, allowing me to adjust to the deeper intrusion, before slowly, with painstaking care, he guided the tip of his ring finger to my entrance. It was a deliberate, almost hesitant pressure.

Despite Levi's commendable care and deliberate pace, the fundamental issue remained. His length and considerable girth were a reality that no amount of careful fingering could fully address.

My voice, though soft, cut through the charged silence. "Levi," I said, my gaze locked on his, trying to convey the mixture of desire and concern swirling within me, "there is no lube. You can't just keep going like this."

The thought of him trying to enter me dry was enough to make me tense.

Levi paused his slow stretching, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered my words. "You're right. I was... perhaps overly eager. Hoping the natural lubrication would suffice. Hm..." He withdrew his fingers slowly, his gaze still locked on mine, a thoughtful expression replacing the earlier intensity. "You're not uncomfortable, are you? Just... anticipating potential issues?"

"Exactly," I affirmed, my gaze dropping pointedly to his visibly aroused cock, which pulsed with a palpable energy. "Your enthusiasm is... appreciated, Levi," I continued, my eyes flicking back up to meet his, a hint of a wry smile playing on my lips, "but that 'angry looking' friend of yours is not going to slide in easily without some assistance. A little stretching is helpful, but it's not a miracle cure for... well, that." I gestured again.

Levi's gaze drifted away, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow as he visibly began to strategize. A moment of silence stretched between us, punctuated only by the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Then, his eyes snapped back to mine, a spark of an idea igniting within them. "Do you have any coconut oil here?" he asked. "Or perhaps an aloe vera-based gel?"

Look at me, using this man’s brain for this. A chuckle escaped my lips. "I believe there's aloe vera gel in the shower," I clarified, nodding towards the bathroom.

He nodded decisively, a man on a mission, and strode towards the bathroom to procure our makeshift lubricant. Another soft chuckle escaped my lips as I watched him disappear through the doorway. His commitment to safe sex, rightfully so, felt comical in this context.

Then he returned, holding two bottles aloft like trophies: a bottle of body lotion and a tube of clear aloe vera gel. A small smile played on his lips, a hint of triumph in his eyes. "A veritable arsenal," he murmured, placing them on the bedside table.

Levi picked up the bottle of body lotion, his brow furrowed in concentration as he squinted at the list of ingredients. After a moment, he looked up, his gaze serious. "Given the inclusion of added fragrances and other perfumery agents," he stated, his voice firm, "I do not believe it would be prudent to utilize this for lubrication. Such substances could potentially cause dermal irritation or an adverse reaction."

My patience, already thin with desire, finally snapped. "Oh my god, Levi," I exclaimed, rolling my eyes heavenward. "Just shut up and fuck me."

The aloe vera was right there!

A slow, knowing smirk spread across Levi's face. "I will," he stated simply, his voice a low rumble.

He deposited the offending body lotion back onto the bedside table with a decisive click. He squeezed a generous amount of the cool, clear aloe vera gel onto his fingers.

He slid two of his gel-coated fingers inside with a slow, deliberate ease. There was a subtle probing quality to his touch, a gentle widening that suggested he was indeed assessing the efficacy of our makeshift lubricant. A soft sigh escaped my lips. Trust this man to treat even this intimate act with a degree of scientific inquiry.

"Levi, are you experimenting again?" I exclaimed, my voice a mixture of exasperation and barely suppressed arousal. "Just shove your dick in me, c'mon."

I wanted him, wanted him now, and the delicate dance of his fingers was no longer enough.

"As you wish," Levi murmured, a low, husky growl that sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. The playful smirk returned to his lips, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. He withdrew his fingers, then deliberately coated his thick length with a generous amount of the gel. Oh, yes. This was it. Three long months of longing, was finally culminating in this moment. My breath hitched as he positioned himself. Yes. Finally.

He paused for a heartbeat, the air thick with anticipation, then slowly, deliberately, he pressed the head of his slick cock against my entrance. A gasp escaped my lips, a mixture of anticipation and a slight, delicious discomfort. Then, with a slow, steady pressure, he began to slide inside. The sensation was exquisite, a stretching fullness that filled me completely, the heat of his body radiating outwards. I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as he filled me, inch by inch. Three months of longing were being unleashed in this single, powerful act. He remained still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to him, the sheer fullness almost overwhelming. Then, with a low groan, he began to move, a slow, deliberate thrust that sent shivers of sensation through my core.

He pressed his cold palm against my stomach, his fingers splaying out against my skin. "It's so tight, Pulla," he murmured, his voice thick with a mixture of awe and desire. "Breathe for me."

I focused on his words, drawing in slow, steady breaths, trying to find a rhythm that would allow me to relax and fully embrace him.

As I began to relax, he started to move again, a slow, deliberate thrust that stretched me to my limits. Each inch he gained was a delicious torture, a push and pull that intensified the burning ache in my core. I could feel the slickness of the gel, the way it eased his movements, but it couldn't fully mask the sheer fullness, the delicious pressure that threatened to overwhelm me. My hips began to buck involuntarily, my nails digging into his shoulders, a silent plea for him to go faster, harder.

"Eager, Pulla?" he murmured, his voice a low, husky drawl. "No, no. I will savor every second of it."

Yes. That was Levi. The master strategist, the meticulous planner, even in the throes of passion. He thrived on the slow burn, the torture of built anticipation. He wanted to draw out every sigh, every gasp, every involuntary twitch.

And he was agonizingly true to his word. Each deliberate thrust was a masterful stroke, plunging deep enough to ignite a searing heat within my core. Yet, it was a carefully calibrated torment. Every movement grazed that sensitive point, teasing it relentlessly, bringing me tantalizingly close to the edge, but never quite pushing me over.

"Stop edging me and move faster, Levi," I begged, my voice raw with need, my head thrashing against the pillow in a frantic rhythm.

A slow smirk spread across Levi's face, his eyes gleaming with a predatory satisfaction as he watched my increasingly frantic movements. "Why should I?" he murmured, his voice a low, husky caress. "The view from here, Pulla," he continued, his gaze sweeping over my flushed skin, the frantic rise and fall of my chest, "your whimpers, each desperate gasp for air... every single one of them is a trophy.”

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Fuck his poetic mouth and his maddening control. Fueled by a surge of desperate need and a healthy dose of defiance, I surged upwards from the bed. Before he could fully register my intent, I was straddling him, pushing him back against the mattress with a determined force. Then, with a guttural cry, I lowered myself onto his still-slick cock, taking him fully inside in one swift, decisive movement. The stretching fullness was immediate and intense, and it was in that moment of complete connection that a startling realization hit me with the force of a physical blow: he wasn’t even fully inside. That slow pace had kept the very base of his cock teasing just outside.

The manipulative bastard.

"You... you infuriating devil," I gasped, the words torn from my throat as the sheer depth of his penetration finally registered. The stretch was undeniably intense, a sharp intake of breath escaping my lips as my body struggled to accommodate to him after three long months. Every nerve ending screamed in protest and pleasure.

As I gritted my teeth, trying to ease my body around his impressive length, Levi remained utterly still beneath me, his gaze fixed on my face. That infuriatingly smug smirk still played on his lips. It was as if he were a puppet master, finally revealing the strings he'd been subtly pulling all along. The nerve of this man. The audacity.

"Need any help?" he purred, his voice laced with amusement. He rested his hand on his cheek, his fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw.

He was enjoying this far too much.

One part of my body, still reeling from months of deprivation and now acutely aware of the potent fullness stretching within me, throbbed with an almost violent urge to take control, to ride him hard and fast. But the other part, the part that recognized the deliberate manipulation, the drawn-out torment he had so expertly orchestrated, burned with a white-hot fury. My fists clenched at my sides, the urge to wipe that smug look off his face with a well-aimed punch almost overwhelming the desire that still pulsed between my legs.

A hazy memory flickered through the intensity of the moment. Breathe... yes, he often said that. But there was something else, a specific instruction he'd often give right before he began to move, a cue to prepare my body. It wasn't just about breathing... it was about engaging my core. Relaxing the inner muscles... "Squeeze your abs," that was it. He always told me to squeeze my abs.

So I did. I squeezed my abs, just enough to create a subtle clench around his thick length. And just as I remembered, that bracing of my core served a dual purpose.

A frustrated growl rumbled in my chest. Fuck him and his infuriating control. Even with me straddling him, dictating the pace (or so I thought), his influence permeated every moment. I was the one on top, the one with the experience, yet I was the one instinctively recalling and relying on his instructions. He had ingrained these cues so deeply that my body responded automatically.

Lost in my internal tirade against his maddening control, I hadn't fully registered the subtle shift within my body. The initial sharp discomfort had completely receded, replaced by a deep, stretching fullness. He was completely sheathed within me, every inch of his length filling me completely. And without conscious thought, my hips began to move, a slow, deliberate slide up and down his rigid length.

Finally.

With each slow slide, a delicious friction ignited deep within my core, the heat spreading like wildfire through my veins. I could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my most sensitive spot with every downward movement. The tightness of my muscles around him was exquisite, a reciprocal embrace that drew a low groan from his throat. I reveled in the feeling of being in control, of dictating the pace and depth, even as the memory of his earlier manipulation lingered. This was my rhythm now, my tempo, and with each deliberate descent, I felt the power shift, the balance of control tilting ever so slightly in my favor.

A wicked grin spread across my face as another memory surfaced, a delicious weakness in his seemingly impenetrable armor. His nipples. Yes. They were exquisitely sensitive, tightening and beading at the slightest touch. A potent weapon in my newly acquired arsenal.

Leaning forward, I braced my hands on his chest, my gaze locking with his. A glint flickered in my eyes as I lowered my head, my lips brushing lightly against the taut peak of his nipple. He sucked in a sharp breath, a flicker of surprise – and something else, something akin to pleasure – crossing his face. I lingered there for a moment, teasing him with the barest contact, before finally closing my mouth around it, gently sucking and swirling my tongue. His hands, which had been resting loosely at his sides, clenched into fists against the sheets. Emboldened by his reaction, I moved to his other nipple, lavishing the same slow, deliberate attention. His earlier control seemed to be slipping, replaced by a raw, visceral response to my touch. A low groan rumbled in his chest, and the smirk that had been plastered on his face finally began to melt away, replaced by a look of sensation. Yes.

A slow, triumphant smile spread across my face. Of course. His ears. He always mentioned how sensitive they were, a low murmur against his earlobe often enough to send shivers down his spine. Another chink in his armor. As I continued to ride him, my hips now moving with a more confident rhythm, I leaned down once more, my breath warm against his ear. I could feel the subtle tremor that ran through his body, a telltale sign of his heightened sensitivity. This was it. The perfect counter to his earlier torment.

My teeth grazed his earlobe with deliberate slowness, sending another visible shudder through his frame. "Levi," I murmured, my breath ghosting over the sensitive skin, "look at you. Hiding... that tremor in your jaw, that desperate clench of your hands..." I paused, my lips hovering just above his ear. "Over what, devil? A warm breath?"

A wry chuckle rumbled in Levi's chest, a hint of a familiar glint returning to his eyes despite his current position. "And you, Pulla," he whispered back, his voice a low, husky murmur that vibrated against my skin, "are clearly enjoying this newfound power."

"Of course," I murmured, my teeth gently grazing his earlobe, eliciting another involuntary shiver. "There is a distinct satisfaction in witnessing that ever-present smirk finally... dissipate."

"You make it sound as if my smiles aren't... appreciated," he whispered back, his breath warm against my neck.

"Damn this devil," I muttered under my breath, a frustrated huff escaping my lips. Even in this position of apparent control, he managed to weave his way back into the dynamic with those infuriatingly seductive whispers.

A low growl rumbled in Levi's chest as his teeth gently grazed the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine despite my lingering frustration. "Pulla," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that vibrated against my skin, "do you understand now? Why I never, ever rush?"

A part of me, the part that still ached from his earlier teasing and now thrilled at the sensation of his teeth on my neck, had to grudgingly admit he might just have a point.

"Pulla," he murmured, "still no bruises and very little pain?"

“Some bruises, perhaps," I conceded, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "And yes very little pain."

His teeth grazed my neck again, this time with a sharper edge, a possessive nip that sent a jolt of pure sensation through me. A cry, a surprised gasp that was equal parts pleasure and a delicious sting, escaped my lips.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I deepened my grip on his shoulders and began to move again, my hips rocking against his with a more urgent rhythm. The slow, teasing pace was gone, replaced by a more demanding slide up and down his length.

Just as I was teetering on the precipice, a sudden, sharp sensation jolted me back to the present. His hands, which had been resting on my hips, suddenly clenched, his fingernails digging into the flesh of my buttocks. A gasp, sharp and involuntary, escaped my lips.

His grip shifted, the sharp pressure of his fingernails dragging from my rear, across the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, leaving fiery trails of protest in their wake. A gasp escaped my lips with each searing line. Then, his hands moved higher, his fingers digging into my waist, leaving fainter, but still noticeable, red marks blooming on my skin.

It felt as though he were testing the waters, gauging my reaction to the sharp sting of his touch, assessing how much I would willingly yield. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he lifted his chest from the mattress, closing the distance between us until our faces were mere inches apart.

The tangle of our locked legs, a consequence of my earlier assertive move, now served as a delicious constraint, amplifying the sensations he was so expertly orchestrating. While my lower body was somewhat restricted, his hands were free to roam, and they did so. His sharp fingernails raked down my back, grazing the surface of my skin, tearing just enough to ignite a searing trail of pain that mingled exquisitely with the pleasure surging through me. Simultaneously, his teeth were on my neck, nipping, biting, and sucking the tender flesh.

The subtle exploration was over. Levi was ready to push past the gentle torment and elicit a more visceral response. His fingernails dug deeper into the muscles of my back, the sharp sting more pronounced this time, a definite edge of pain slicing through the pleasure. His teeth clamped down on my shoulder with a surprising strength.

A gasp hitched in my throat, a mixture of sharp pain and a thrill that shot straight to my core. His fingernails, digging in with a deliberate pressure, raked across the expanse of my back. The sensation was intense, a raw, stinging burn that resonated with a strange, dark pleasure I couldn't deny. Yes, this was it. This was the edge I craved.

He wasn't gentle. The pain was significant enough to make me gasp, to tighten my grip on his shoulders, a raw sensation that amplified the already intense pleasure.

"A little more," I rasped, my voice thick with a mixture of breathlessness and a desperate craving for the edge.

Levi's dark eyes, inches from mine, gleamed with a knowing intensity. "Pain or pleasure?" he murmured.

"Both," I breathed, the single word a raw admission of the complex tapestry of my desires.

I wanted the push and pull, the delicate balance between agony and ecstasy that only he could deliver.

Levi's arms wrapped tightly around my back, his grip firm and possessive. The shift was swift and purposeful, guiding me as he rolled us over, rearranging our tangled limbs until I found myself on my hands and knees, my back arched, presenting myself to him.

He slid back inside me, the familiar stretching sensation now accompanied by a heightened awareness of my vulnerable position. The slow entry was a deliberate contrast to the earlier urgency, a subtle power play that held me in a state of heightened anticipation. Instead of settling against my back, I felt him rise behind me, the shift in his stance indicating a deeper, more forceful entry was imminent.

"Do you remember the safe words, Pulla?"

"Yeah... Saint," I replied, my voice a little breathless, the anticipation coiling tight in my belly. "And... Lu-" I trailed off, a flicker of uncertainty crossing my face. "I don't remember yours."

"Lucent," he corrected, his voice a low rumble right behind me. And then, there was no more hesitation. He plunged into me with a sudden, breathtaking force, filling me completely in one powerful thrust. Yes

A sharp crack echoed in the room, the force of his open palm connecting with my ass sending a jolt of stinging heat through my flesh. My head snapped up from the pillow involuntarily, a gasp escaping my lips. Yes, Levi was clearly making a point about my forgetfulness.

The second impact was brutal, the flat of his palm connecting with my already stinging flesh with a resounding thwack. Instead of recoiling, a guttural gasp escaped my lips, laced with a surprising thrill. My grip on the pillow tightened, my hips instinctively arching slightly towards him. The sting was intense, almost breathtaking, but beneath it, a dark, undeniable pleasure bloomed. Tears might have pricked my eyes, but they weren't tears of distress.

Yes. More.

A relentless series of spanks followed, each one landing with a sharp, stinging impact that resonated through my already throbbing backside. They weren't as brutal as the second, but they were firm, insistent, a rhythmic percussion of pain that danced on the edge of pleasure. The sensations began to blur, the sharp stings intertwining with the deep, stretching fullness of Levi inside me, creating a dizzying vortex of feeling. And then, he began to move in earnest. Each thrust was deep and powerful, a primal surge that stole my breath, a gasp that was part involuntary pain, part pleasure.

Despite the exhilarating blend of intense pleasure and the lingering sting on my ass, a deeper craving began to gnaw at me. A low moan escaped my lips, a silent plea for a little more… fire.

With a low growl that vibrated against my ear, Levi accepted my unspoken challenge. The series of spanks intensified, each one landing with a sharp, stinging crack that made me gasp. But this time, he synchronized the impacts with his thrusts, the rhythm of pain and pleasure becoming inextricably linked. My breath hitched, a mixture of ragged moans and sharp intakes, as the two sensations collided, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

But as the intensity of his thrusts built, driving me closer to the edge, a deeper, more primal craving took hold. The surface sensations weren't enough. I needed something more visceral, something that would truly push me over the brink.

Levi's gaze dropped, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight of my throbbing cock. His eyes then roamed my bedroom seemingly searching for something to amplify the already heightened sensations.

His fingers closed around the thick leather of his belt, the buckle glinting ominously. He held it aloft, the weight of it evident in his grip. "Now, Pulla," he purred, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. "You have two choices. I can tie your arms above your head with this," he gestured with the belt, "and it will hurt... a little, with the friction." His eyes locked with mine, a predatory glint in their depths. "Or," he continued, the leather whispering as he shifted it in his hand, "I can hit you with it. And that, I promise you, will

hurt."

"Belt is an overkill right now, I think," I managed, my voice a little breathless. The idea of being bound, however... that held a different kind of appeal.

A slow, knowing smirk spread across Levi's face. "Be not worried, Pulla," he murmured, his voice a low caress that sent shivers down my spine. "The next time... the next time, we will not be worried about mere paraphernalia."

With a firm hand on the small of my back, Levi pressed me further down, deepening the angle of the position until my knees were drawn high towards my chest, stretching me open and rendering me utterly vulnerable. Then, before I could fully register the shift, he swiftly grabbed my wrists, pulling them together above my head. The thick leather of his belt snaked around them, cinching tight with a decisive pull. The friction against my skin was immediate, a rough rasp. With another sharp tug, the belt was secured, binding my arms firmly in place.

"I still have patience, Pulla, to use whatever I can find around the house to enhance our... experience," Levi stated, his voice a low purr that held a distinct edge of playful menace.

"I don't," I gasped out, the word torn from my throat.

A dark chuckle rumbled in Levi's chest. "Impatient, are we, pulla?" he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. He continued his relentless rhythm, each thrust deep and powerful, driving me further into the mattress. The feeling of being utterly bound, my arms stretched above me, amplified every sensation. The edge was so close now, a tantalizing precipice of release, and the lack of control only intensified the desperate need to fall.

Just as the first tremors of release began to ripple through my body, that tightening deep within, Levi leaned in with a sudden, fierce intensity. His teeth clamped down on the sensitive nape of my neck, a brutal bite that sent a searing jolt of pain through me. The unexpected shock, the raw sensation, was so overwhelming, so intense, that it shattered the barrier. A strangled cry tore from my throat as a powerful orgasm ripped through me, convulsing my body.

"So, so cruel, pulla," Levi murmured against my ear, his breath hot and ragged. The possessive bite on my nape still throbbed. He punctuated his words by gently tugging on my earlobe with his teeth, a playful yet possessive nibble. "Three times you've found release without me. Now, now," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "tell me... what shall I do for retaliation?"

"Retaliation?" I breathed, a hint of a smirk returning despite the lingering throb on my neck and the ache in my wrists. "Or are you just looking for an excuse to be rougher?"

While I was undeniably at his mercy, bound and still trembling from my release, the thrill of the intensity had emboldened me. I knew his possessiveness often manifested in a desire for more... forceful interactions, and I wasn't entirely unwilling to indulge him.

"Ah, Pulla," he murmured, his tone deceptively casual. "I was simply thinking of taking a stroll at the beach. Nothing too elaborate."

"What, what do you mean by that?" I asked, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. "Like... holding hands on the beach?"

"No," he corrected, his voice now laced with a playful possessiveness. "I was thinking about how I could take a stroll at the beach... while you are still in my arms."

"What, no," I protested, a flicker of genuine alarm mixing with the lingering arousal. The image of being carried, bound across a public beach was a step too far, even for me. "There might be people outside!"

"Your defiance only makes me want to push you harder," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "But tell me," he continued, his breath warm against my ear, "what is there to stop me?"

I was bound, exhausted, and still reeling from the intensity of our encounter. Legally, socially... practically, in this moment, there was nothing stopping him.

"Let us... test the waters... if you will," Levi purred, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He released my bound wrists, and in one swift motion, his hands gripped my waist, lifting me effortlessly. "Put your arms around my shoulders, pulla," he instructed, his voice a low command. "And your legs... around my waist. Tightly, my dear."

The lingering ache in my wrists, the throbbing bite on my neck, were potent reminders of my earlier vulnerability. Now, wrapped around him, I was still captive.

"There is one final thing, Pulla," Levi murmured, his voice a low command that sent a shiver down my spine despite the warmth of his body against mine. He tightened his grip on my waist, his thumbs digging possessively into my hips. "You will count the steps."

Before I could fully process his words, he shifted slightly, and with a slow, deliberate slide, re-entered me. The sensation, after the brief respite, was intense, a deep, stretching fullness that anchored me to him.

Then he began to walk, each step deliberate and excruciatingly slow. With every measured pace, I could feel the intimate friction of him deep inside me. I counted, my breath catching with each agonizingly drawn-out stride. One... two... the world outside the bedroom walls began to bleed into my awareness. We moved through the familiar space of the living room, the early morning light filtering through the curtains, illuminating the grip he had on my body. Finally, we reached the porch, the cool morning air kissing my exposed skin. The scent of salt and the distant sound of the waves filled my senses. Fifteen steps. We stood there, precariously balanced on the edge of the porch, the vast expanse of the beach stretching out before us, the gentle murmur of the sea just a short distance away.

His breath warm against my ear, Levi's voice was a low rumble, laced with a hint of triumph. "Did you count, Pulla?"

"Y-Yeah, why?" I stammered, my mind still reeling from the audacity of our porch-side tableau.

"How many?"

"Fifteen steps."

"Excellent," he purred, a satisfaction in his tone. Before I could fully register his intent, he released my waist, his hands moving swiftly to my shoulders. He turned me with a deliberate force, my bare chest pressing against the rough wood of the porch railing, my back now flush against his hard body.

He pressed against my back, forcing my chest more firmly against the weathered wood of the railing, my bare feet still grounded on the cool porch. With a decisive movement, his hand shot forward, grabbing my wrists. He pulled them upwards and slightly backwards, the angle causing a strain across my shoulders and forcing my head to tilt back, exposing the vulnerable curve of my neck.

He began to move again, the slow, deliberate thrusts echoing the rhythmic crash of the waves against the nearby shore.

He wasn't resorting to brute force. Instead, this was a different kind of mastery, a more nuanced and perhaps even crueler form of control. Each movement was calculated, precise, expertly designed to build the tension within me, drawing me inexorably towards the precipice of release. There was just enough friction, just enough pressure against that exquisitely sensitive spot deep inside me. The bastard.

My toes curled involuntarily against the cool wood of the porch, a tell-tale sign of my body teetering on the edge of another shattering release. He was doing it again, that masterful manipulation, drawing me closer and closer to the brink with a maddeningly controlled pace.

Just as that familiar tightening began to clench deep within me, the world tilting on its axis as the first tremors of release threatened to consume me, Levi's sharp command cut through the haze of sensation. "Count, Pulla."

Then, the sharp crack of his hand against my bare buttocks punctuated his order, a stinging jolt of pain refocused my scattered senses on his demand. The bastard knew exactly how to keep me teetering on the brink.

The second spank landed with a brutal force, the stinging heat blooming across my backside like a physical reprimand. My breath hitched, the pleasure of the near-release instantly replaced by a sharp, undeniable pain. "I said, count," Levi commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. The possessiveness in his tone, the raw power in his touch, snapped me to attention.

"T-two..." I gasped out, the sting of the spank still echoing across my backside.

Another sharp crack echoed, the force of this spank slightly less brutal than the last, yet still carrying a significant sting that mingled with an undeniable heat blossoming within me. "T-Three..." I managed, my voice still a little shaky.

The slow, teasing rhythm from before was gone, replaced by deep, powerful thrusts that stole my breath and amplified the burning sensation on my skin. The counting became a fractured litany, each number punctuated by a gasp of pain or a choked moan of pleasure as he drove deeper.

Then, the trembling in my legs intensified, my toes curling with that familiar, desperate clench. Just as the wave of release threatened to crest, a final, brutal spank landed with a resounding crack, the sharp sting shooting through my already overloaded senses. "Fifteen..." I gasped, the word torn from my throat, and then the dam broke. A powerful, shuddering orgasm ripped through me, my body convulsing as my release spilled forth.

"Fifteen," I repeated, the word thick with a mixture of spent pleasure and lingering shock. Fifteen steps, fifteen spanks? The audacity of it, the raw, possessive display on the porch, left me breathless and trembling. "That bastard," I muttered, a grudging admiration lacing my voice.

Levi finally released my aching wrists, allowing a gasp of air to fill my lungs. The cool breeze against my sweat-slicked skin was a welcome relief, yet my body still throbbed with the aftermath of the intense encounter. "You took it so well, pulla," he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rumble.

Then, his hands settled on my twitching cock. A possessive warmth spread through me at his touch. "Four times you've found release, Pulla," he continued, his fingers gently circling the sensitive head. "Want to see just how much more we can go?"

"What even is your stamina, Levi?" I asked, my voice still a little shaky, the exhaustion finally starting to creep in despite the lingering buzz of arousal.

"Oh," Levi murmured, his breath warm against my ear, sending a fresh shiver down my spine. "It is simply because you are cruel. Always rushing, leaving me behind, never waiting for me. Tch." He made a soft, clicking sound with his tongue, a theatrical display of exasperation. "What can I do?"

"I am really, really tired and dehydrated, you know," I mumbled, my voice raspy, the exhaustion finally outweighing the lingering embers of arousal. “I don't think anything will come out anymore."

"Without helping me find release even once? Always so, so cruel," Levi murmured, his voice a low, mockingly wounded tone. His fingers still circled my softening cock.

"You... you could have cum anytime you wanted," I countered, my voice still raspy with exhaustion. "You had the entire night. But you waited, waited..."

"Of course I waited," Levi purred, his voice regaining its earlier seductive edge. His fingers continued their slow dance on my softening flesh. "So that I could taste your skin as it flushed with pleasure, hear every ragged moan that escaped your lips, watch the torment and the eventual surrender in your eyes, the way your body trembled and arched beneath my touch. Your reactions, are a symphony, and I wanted to conduct every note before the final crescendo."

Damn his poetic mouth. He almost made me forget the relentless pounding I had endured throughout the night. The nerve of him, waxing lyrical about my moans while my body still throbbed.

"Let me drink some water first," I pleaded, my voice hoarse."And stop touching my dick, it actually hurts now."

He finally released my throbbing cock, taking a deliberate step back. A thoughtful expression crossed his face, a hint of amusement still lingering in his eyes. "Hm... Well," he said, his voice a low murmur, "I will be waiting in the bedroom then."