Disobedience (Zakhar and Evgeni)

He groaned in frustration, legs shaking from the need for release as he writhed with each thrust. Every time he tried to control himself and stilled for just one moment, the pressure built up and he just found himself writhing like before.

"Touch me."

He had already begged once, so he'd do it again. His arousal was throbbing painfully and Zakhar hadn't touched him. He needed Zakhar to touch him.

"Please."

"Please...?" he prompted.

He was not in a nice mood and he wouldn't give him what he wanted until he had begged sufficiently.

He wanted Evgeni to call him master.

He'd hold it above his head at all times if he did.

If Zakhar thought he could get Evgeni to address him as "Master", he was sorely mistaken. But unlike the other times, he didn't kick up a fuss, head only falling down on the mattress.

"Please, Zakhar."

The beg diminished into a long string of muffled pleads and whines, twisting slowly on the sheets.

But he could wait it out, if Zakhar chose not to comply. He'd come at some point, and he would rather wait it out than find himself broken in.

Zakhar's hips stilled and his hands gripped the man's own hips tighter to stop him from moving or writhing on the bed. He pulled Evgeni's hips a little highter to stop him from rubbing against the sheets for friction.

If he wasn't going to comply, then he wouldn't get what he wanted at all.

"Please....?" he prompted again.

Evgeni let out a frustrated sob into the sheets, his hips pushing against the man's hands needily.

"Please."

He wouldn't call him Master. He just wouldn't. Eventually Zakhar would have to let him go, and eventually he could sort it out himself. He had had a master before, and he was not going to go back into slavery so easily.

"Please Zakhar."

The Lycan stayed still.

He would sit and wait until Evgeni would crack.

He wasn't much into orgasm deprivation on himself, but he could hang out for as long as he needed to to make Evgeni crack without descending into a shitty mood.

Zakhar gave a hum as he began tapping his fingers against the older Lycan's hips.

"Please."

He sobbed into the sheet, nails digging into his palms as he tried to control himself, a deep shudder running through his body as his hips jerked and squirmed in the man's grasp.

"Please."

It was really starting to hurt now, and he really just wanted to come. He could deal with pain, but having to go without coming was too much.

"...Master..."

The word was mumbled into the sheet, almost inaudible as a deep pang of self-loathing rippled through him. When he got out, he would prove that he wasn't Zakhar's slave. His mind fell into a series of dark thoughts about what he would do when he finally got his release. Zakhar might have made him call him "Master", but he would never behave like a slave.

"Good boy."

He moved a hand to stroke Evgeni's hair like a good dog worthy of praise as his hips began to thrust again.

Zakhar gave a groan. That felt much better than the slow rocking he was doing before.

His hand slid from Evgeni's head, running down his back before smoothing over a hip and curling around his arousal. He pumped him slowly at first, then moved onto a quicker pace that better matched his thrusting.

His mouth fell open in a small cry as Zakhar began to move again, hips pushing back against him as much as he could.

"...Chuka..."

He moaned in desperation as a hand curled around his arousal, rocking against it needily. Biting down on the sheets, his eyes screwed up tightly, attempting to stop himself from crying out in relief.

A long, whimpering moan was muffled into the mattress as Zakhar's hand sped up, a shudder rippling through his body.

Those little cries and whimpers were musical.

He loved them.

Zakhar's hand slid from the older man's hip t come down harshly on his backside as he pressed his thumb against his slit.

"Say it again. Call me Master," he purred.

Another cry ripped from his lips, louder this time, body jolting from the combination of the pain and the pleasure.

Collapsing back onto the bed, his face buried in the mattress in shame and defiance, muffling his noises. He didn't want Zakhar to have the satisfaction of making him cry out. His teeth locked around the cotton to deaden his sounds.

He didn't want to acknowledge Zakhar as his Master. Zakhar wasn't his Master. But he needed it so much and he had already said it once, so...

"Please, Master."

The word was spat, begrudgingly, teeth locked.

"Good boy."

His thrusting sped up, head tilting back a little.

Zakhar could feel the low, smouldering head of arousal spark in his belly and he gave a moan. He was slowly coming closer to his release.

Short, sharp cries and keens were beginning to punctuate every one of Zakhar's thrusts now, his body twisting and jolting with every movement, every pump of his arousal.

"Please..."

He just needed a little something to push him over the edge. He didn't know what, exactly, but he needed his release, and it was painful to have to wait.

"Since you asked so nicely."

The younger Man, thrust into the boy, pumped him, ran his thumb over his slit and slapped his ass hard simultaneously.

He moaned, head tilting back as his thrusts became more erratic.

A hoarse cry, almost a yelp tore from the back of his throat as his body arched, head tossing forwards to clamp his teeth down on the sheets.

A violent shudder rippled through his body as he came, sagging onto the mattress with a dry sob.

Harsh pants racked his chest as he came down from his high, body melting onto the sheets in relief.

Zakhar followed suit a few thrusts later, crying out as he came inside the man.

With soft pants, the man pulled out of Evgeni and laid out beside him, eyes sliding shut.

"You called me Master. Twice." His lips curled into a dark smirk. The man was his and with calling him that title, Evgeni had agreed.

With a yawn, Zakhar pushed Evgeni off the edge of the bed, the stained blankets following soon after.

He curled up on his side.

Evgeni yelped as he was pushed off the bed, trying to catch himself, but the bindings meaning that he just fell, flat on his face.

"Bastard!" he yelled.

He could feel the blood slipping down his face from where he had hit his nose and he snarled up at the man, eyes flashing in anger.

"You are not my Master and you never will be. Go fuck yourself!"

Zakhar smirked when he heard the crack.

Payback. He wasn't going to tolerate having a broken nose without some form of payback and now he had it.

He could settle down to sleep knowing he had had two good fucks today and, though he had been injured, he had enjoyed them both.