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Summary
“Joonghyuk-ie, uh,” he gasps, “Joonghyuk-ah!”
Yoo Joonghyuk buries his teeth against the crook of Kim Dokja’s neck, a groan slipping out of his mouth as he does so. He doesn’t care that he’s already marked Kim Dokja so much in that spot that it’s likely sore, doesn’t care that the entire world would probably know that Kim Dokja is his, given the marks and scent saturated all over his body. He only cares about making sure that Kim Dokja understands, giving him as much pleasure as he desires, until his body is completely spent. He only cares of ridding this budding desire growing within the pits of his stomach, maddeningly strong no matter how much he ruins Kim Dokja.
“Fuck,” Yoo Joonghyuk groans mid-thrust.
Kim Dokja gets the better of Yoo Joonghyuk.
