If Tiefedorf was ever inclined to paint himself as a tragic figure, he’d tell the story of a young, naïve god who was seduced by the King of Darkness and who fell so deep into the Umbra Forest that he was unable to pull himself out. But the truth was, he’d been appallingly attracted to the dangerous and the forbidden for as long as he could remember — it was how the King of Darkness had gotten to him, back when he still was a full fledged god, and it was how right after their first meeting, he had been absolutely certain that regardless of how their business endeavors turned out, he’d find a way to lure Shuraomaru into his bed.
It had taken longer than he expected, given that Shuraomaru had always seemed quite receptive to his flirting, but finally, after so many tries, they found themselves sharing a room in a small inn at the outskirts of Hokkaido, the kind where the owners knew the importance of good service, but more importantly, of discretion.
Not that either of them cared whether anyone knew what they were doing, but it would be a shame to have to stop to deal with an interruption.
“How do you like it?” Tiefedorf felt a shiver run down his spine as Shuraomaru leaned forward and talked right into his ear, using a finger to trace the group of knots on his chest that had resulted from all his meticulous work. As soon as they walked through the door, Shuraomaru had ordered him to strip from the waist up before revealing a bright, red rope that oozed with the feeling of black magic, then proceeded to spend the next thirty minutes wrapping it in an intricate diamond-shaped pattern around his torso. “It’s enchanted with the same spell as the ancient relic that you used on Zeal.”
“Could it be that helping me out then made you realize that you like having gods at your mercy?”
Shuraomaru laughed as he pulled on the rope by one of the knots, hard enough for it to dig into his skin, and Tiefedorf struggled to hold back a moan when he felt Shuraomaru’s chilly breath against his neck.
It’s not that he trusted Shuraomaru enough to let him grab him by the waist, make him turn around, and bend his arms back until his wrists were touching, after all, blind trust was for mortals and fools. But Tiefedorf could weight risk and reward, and he had long decided that even if Shuraomaru was actually trying to trick him into letting himself be magically bound, it felt so good that it would be worth the hassle.
“You’re awfully quiet all of the sudden, Tiefedorf.”
He was about to answer when he felt Shuraomaru’s other hand brush against his crotch, and the words got stuck in his throat. By the time Shuraomaru was done with the first set of ropes, he had been turned on enough to feel his erection rub against the interior of his briefs, but now he was so hard that the friction was starting to straddle the line between pleasurable and unpleasant.
When Shuraomaru unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his cock out, the sensation alone made him bite his lip in such a way that he drew blood.
Shuraomaru’s pace as he moved his hand up and down the shaft was as slow as he could manage without stopping, constant enough to keep him chasing an orgasm, but too little to actually push him over the edge.
“Please—” He closed his eyes and tried moving his hips to make Shuraomaru go faster, touch him more, do something, but all that got him was another pull of the rope, this time so hard that he actually had to make a conscious effort to keep his footing. “I want you inside me, Shuraomaru, I want you to fuck me.”
“Hmh? What makes you think that I came here to fuck you?”
“But isn’t that what you like about me, Tiefedorf?”
Oh, it definitely was.