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Chay hooks his index finger through the ring on the front of Kim’s collar.
“Are you going to tell me what had you blushing earlier?”
Kim tries to pull back, but Chay’s hold on the steel ring roots him in place. He glares at Chay in baleful silence, heat already rising to his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
Chay is still getting used to the sight of him like this, collared and subservient… and stubborn.
“That’s not fair—” Kim starts.
“What’s not fair is you blushing like that and then refusing to tell me why,” Chay cuts in. His voice drops low, the syrupy sweetness gone. “You know how I despise secrets.”
Chay can feel the bob of Kim’s throat against his knuckle as Kim swallows.
Kim closes his eyes.
“So be it,” Chay sighs.
New as this thing between them may be, he already knows he loves it when Kim gets difficult.
~*~
Chay gently scrapes his fingernails down Kim’s spine, between the V of his bound arms. Kim tenses and gasps.
“Tell me,” Chay murmurs.
Kim muffles a groan in the bedsheets.
He’s kneeling on the bed, folded over himself so one shoulder digs into the mattress. His hands are tied behind his back from wrist to elbow in silky black rope. His face presses into the mattress, muffling his quiet little moans.
Beneath him, the ring on Kim’s collar is connected tightly to the similar ropes that bind his ankles, holding him in place, completely at Chay’s mercy.
“Maybe I’ll leave you like this for a while,” Chay teases. “Sit back and admire my property. Get myself off and leave you untouched.”
The flush that stains Kim’s ears and the back of his neck creeps beneath the leather of his collar and down onto his shoulders.
“You know I’d do anything for you,” Chay coos. “You just have to ask.”
Kim’s body sags, and Chay tastes victory.
This dynamic may be new to them, but Chay knows exactly what makes his boyfriend tick.
“Hit me,” Kim mumbles. He turns his face to hide it in a pillow.
Or maybe not.
Chay pauses. Then his eyes drop to Kim’s ass, the realization dawning.
“You mean you want me to spank you,” he clarifies. The words come out gravelly, foreign to even his own ears.
Kim whimpers.
A sly, surprised smile curls over Chay’s lips. He settles his free hand on the soft part of Kim’s ass, rubbing in slow, gentle circles. Kim’s body tenses beneath his touch.
“Do you want that right now, baby?”
Kim nods, face half-buried in the bedsheets.
The sound that escapes Kim at the first hit is indescribable, shivering down Chay’s spine and straight into his balls.
“Harder,” Kim pleads.
Chay bites his lip and rubs the rising red flush beneath his palm.
“Since you’ve been so good, telling me what you want…”
He brings his palm down again, and again—until Kim is leaking and crying into the sheets, begging for release.