Eyes On Me

The sheets were rucked into an uncomfortable tangle beneath him, his squirming making them worse by the second. With his wrists and ankles manacled to the bedframe, Ashenivir wasn’t going anywhere, but he kept on thrashing anyway.

Rizeth watched his struggles dispassionately. “Are you quite finished?”

In reply, Ashenivir pulled against all his restraints at once, arching off the bed with a tight growl of effort before collapsing with a huff. The sheets remained tangled, he remained bound, and his Master remained displeased. He wasn’t escaping punishment today.

After he’d lain still and quiet for a full minute—he counted, just as he was sure his Master was doing—Rizeth knelt between his legs and began to roll up his sleeves. Whilst he was folding his right cuff, Ashenivir snapped his knees up, pressing them hard into Rizeth’s sides. Rizeth stopped, put a hand on each of his thighs, and firmly pushed them down. As soon as he was occupied with his shirt again, Ashenivir put them back up.

This time, Rizeth didn’t stop rolling his sleeves, or even look at him. “Are you certain you want to do that, Ra’soltha?”

Ashenivir dropped his legs. “No, Master,” he muttered, glaring at the ceiling.

“Eyes on me.”

Those three words were hard and sharp and his heart kicked up a notch. He obeyed the order, meeting his Master’s cold, ruby eyes. Fathomless, inescapable—his favourite place to look, even when he’d filled them with annoyance. Sometimes especially then.

Light fingers trailed up the inside of his thigh, then along the soft length of his cock. It responded eagerly, but since he almost certainly wasn’t going to be allowed to come today, Ashenivir didn’t bother getting too attached to the feeling. He let his head relax into the pillow, determined to enjoy the teasing while it lasted.

The moment his eyes left Rizeth’s, all touch ceased. A sharp smack on his inner thigh made him yelp and jerk up.

“I gave you an instruction, Ra’soltha,” Rizeth said. “I expect you to follow it.”

Ashenivir met his gaze again, and Rizeth resumed his strokes. His thumb slid over the head, through the wetness pooling there, and Ashenivir let out a moan, unable to keep his eyes from closing. The second they did, Rizeth stopped—with his thumb pressed firmly to the tip of Ashenivir’s cock.

So it was like that, was it?

He opened his eyes to the faintest trace of a smile at the corner of Rizeth’s mouth. Steady strokes were soon accompanied by a delicious slickness as his pleasure coated his Master’s palm. He bucked into the touch, manacle chains rattling, but nothing he did induced Rizeth to increase his speed. He just held Ashenivir’s gaze and stroked on and on and on.

His mind clouded. He drifted. Only two parts of him were real any longer: his eyes and his cock. He couldn’t have looked away if he’d wanted to, his Master’s gaze doing more to restrain him than the manacles. That was the power Rizeth had; to look right into him, find the part that needed to be seen and pin it in place, hold it still until it surrendered, gladly, to the one who’d so exposed it.

He wanted to say something—to beg, maybe—but words were beyond him. An incoherent sound slipped from his lips, which had at some point parted and remained that way, his jaw slack and incapable of closing. Rizeth cupped his cheek, sliding a thumb into his mouth. He sucked obediently and, seemingly as a reward, the hand on his cock squeezed, tightening at just the right point on every stroke to draw a string of muffled moans from him. His hips twitched of their own accord, tension gathering in his thighs, pooling low in his stomach.

“There we are,” Rizeth said softly. At last he increased his speed, and Ashenivir’s moans grew higher in pitch, his eyelids fluttering. “Keep your eyes on me, Ra’soltha. See it through.”

Slick rhythm. Hot hand around him. Thumb filling his mouth, sliding over his lower lip, painting his chin with spit. Breath hard, eyes locked on his Master, the sole source of his pleasure. Heat spiking. Skin prickling. Short, choked moans, half wordless plea, stuttering at the pace of Rizeth’s hand. He wouldn’t look away. Couldn’t look away. So close. Lost in crimson, clear and bright. So close, so close, so close.

“Master, I—”

“Eyes open, and you may.”

With every ounce of willpower left to him, Ashenivir kept both eyes wide open and fell into Rizeth’s as he came with a desperate cry. His heart thundered in the back of his throat, forcing whimpers out over his tongue as Rizeth stroked him through every last twitch and overstimulated shudder until he was utterly spent.

“Good boy,” Rizeth murmured. He raised his hand to Ashenivir’s lips, fingers sticky and shiny. Ashenivir sucked gratefully. “Close your eyes for me, that’s it. Such a good boy.”

He lay there, limp and tasting his own release, as Rizeth released him from his bonds. Behind his lids, Rizeth’s eyes still bored into him, endlessly captivating. Dizziness span through the dark of his head, and he whined, suddenly cold. The bed shifted, creaking, and a moment later he was curled against Rizeth’s chest, warm arms firm around him and a steady, familiar heartbeat beneath his cheek. The encroaching cold subsided, and he let out a deep sigh.

Rizeth laughed, low and affectionate. “That ought to teach you not to roll your eyes at me, xi’hum.”

“It won’t,” Ashenivir mumbled.

“No,” Rizeth said, tugging him up into a kiss, “I suppose it won’t.”