Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)-Chapter 668: NSFW 2

Han Xin’s lips curled into a feral smile of his own. He leaned down, crashing his mouth onto Xiang Yu’s. The kiss was deep and desperate from the first second.

Xiang Yu’s mouth opened for him without hesitation, and Han Xin’s tongue plunged in, tasting the familiar, addictive flavor that was uniquely Xiang Yu. It was wet, it was hot, and the slick, filthy sounds of their kissing seemed to echo off the walls, a lewd soundtrack to their hunger.

Han Xin’s free hand came up, tangling in the hair at the nape of Xiang Yu’s neck, holding him steady as he plundered his mouth. He could feel Xiang Yu’s hardness against his own stomach, a firm, insistent pressure. He needed more.

He ground his hips forward, a rough, unsubtle roll of his pelvis that made the silk of their pants rub together. A dampness, his own pre-cum, bloomed on the fabric, a sticky confession of his need.

When they finally broke apart, gasping, they stayed close, foreheads pressed together. Their warm, ragged breaths mingled, washing over each other’s lips and cheeks, a sensation so intimate it was almost maddening. Han Xin could feel the sharp desire coiling tighter in his gut.

"Up," Han Xin commanded, his voice a husky rasp. He pulled Xiang Yu to his feet, his hands roaming over the solid warmth of his abs, admiring the play of muscle and ink under the red light. "Fuck, you are perfect. I want to see this rope on you. I want to mark every part of you."

He began with Xiang Yu’s wrists, his movements practiced and sure. He had spent nights learning these knots, perfecting the patterns, all for this moment. The rope was soft but firm.

As he wrapped it around one wrist, his fingers deliberately caressed the sensitive skin of the inner arm, tracing the patterns there. He pulled the first knot snug, not tight, just enough to feel its presence.

Xiang Yu gasped, a sharp, sweet intake of air.

Han Xin’s cock jerked in response. He moved to the other wrist, tying it with the same deliberate care, his knuckles brushing against Xiang Yu’s hip bone.

Each loop, each twist of the rope was a promise. Each knot was a claim. The crimson cord stood out starkly against Xiang Yu’s skin, making him look both bound and divine.

The rough, natural fiber of the rope whispered against Xiang Yu’s skin as Han Xin drew the first length across his forearms. He stood, a solid and warm presence at Xiang Yu’s back, his focus absolute.

He crossed Xiang Yu’s wrists, one over the other, pulling them into a firm, horizontal line. The first wrap of the single column tie was a promise, a gentle pressure that quickly built into a secure, undeniable hold.

"Is it too tight?" Han Xin’s breath was a hot, damp ghost against the shell of Xiang Yu’s ear. The sensation was a spark on dry tinder, a maddening little itch that spiraled straight down his spine, making the fine hairs on his neck stand up.

Xiang Yu let out a soft, controlled breath. "It’s perfect."

Han Xin worked with a quiet efficiency, his fingers brushing against Xiang Yu’s skin as he wove the ropes. Each pass around his torso was a new claim, the hemp biting just enough to remind Xiang Yu of its strength, of Han Xin’s control.

The pattern grew across his chest, a complex web that fixed his arms firmly in place, the final knots secured at the small of his back. But Han Xin wasn’t finished. Not nearly.

He guided Xiang Yu toward a sturdy beam, his movements sure. With a series of practiced loops and pulls, he hoisted one of Xiang Yu’s legs, bending it at the knee and securing it high, leaving the other foot flat on the cool floor.

He was suspended in a vulnerable, beautiful arc, his weight balanced precariously between the ground and the air. Han Xin took a step back, his eyes dark with intent as they roamed over his work. "Yu Yu, you are a masterpiece."

He moved in close again, his chest pressing against Xiang Yu’s bound back. His hand came up, not with force, but with a terrifying gentleness, and wrapped around Xiang Yu’s throat, tilting his head back until it rested on Han Xin’s shoulder. "Do you like it, baby?"

Xiang Yu’s head spun, a dizzy cocktail of submission and raw desire. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving against the firm pressure of Han Xin’s palm. "I like it, Xin-ge. You can do as you please with me." The permission was a key turning in a lock, releasing something hungry in the air between them.

Han Xin’s answer was a low growl, his teeth finding the soft lobe of Xiang Yu’s ear and biting down just enough to make him gasp. "You are so beautiful, my love." The words were a vibration against his skin, followed immediately by the hot, open-mouthed press of lips to his neck.

Han Xin didn’t just kiss, he devoured. He licked a searing path along the corded muscle of Xiang Yu’s shoulder, his teeth scraping, his mouth sucking until a dark purple bloom began to form under the surface. "I want to mark every inch of you."

Xiang Yu’s world narrowed to the points of contact: the demanding pull of the ropes, the solid heat of Han Xin behind him, and the relentless, wet assault on his skin.

He gasped, the sounds tearing from his throat as rough, helpless groans. His cock, trapped and aching, throbbed painfully, a single bead of precum welling up and dripping onto his stomach and floor. "Fuck, Xin-ge."

Han Xin’s mouth traveled lower, his tongue flicking over a peaked nipple. Xiang Yu cried out, his back arching as much as the ropes would allow.

Han Xin sucked the nub deep into his mouth, his tongue circling it, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh until Xiang Yu was shaking, his breath coming in ragged pants. "Please... fuck..."