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The Boss's Obsession (LustfulSins&CrescentBlade)

“Could’ve fooled me,” Archer huffs, half focused on the slick slide of the man’s cock in his hand. Easily distracted by the hands kneading his ass. It’s obvious that Viktor wants more than just a handjob, and while he’s still sensitive from their first one, he’s not opposed to the way the man rolls his hips. He still remembers the feeling of that cock hitting every part of him, lighting him up with pleasure, and shivers under the warm spray of water. Half of his mind wants to be intentionally stubborn and deny Viktor everything, but the other half wants to remind himself of that feeling. Doesn’t want to let it fade from his mind.

His pretty face lights up in a wicked grin. “Oh? And what do you want, Viktor? You’ll have to ask me nicely,” he repeats the demand for control that Viktor has given him earlier.
 
Viktor doesn't bend to Archer's request to be asked nicely. He won't allow the redhead to have control. So instead of answering, Viktor bends his head and claims Archer's mouth in a heated kiss. This time, he doesn't ask permission before sliding his tongue into the boy's mouth. The kiss is firm, dominant, and the perfect distraction.

Viktor's right fore- and middle fingers slide into the boy's body, assisted by the slippery suds of body wash. That action works to pulls Archer closer to him. Knowing where the redheqd's prostate is now, Viktor locates it easily and stroking his fingertips over it.
 
The kiss is the perfect distraction, demanding all of Archer’s attention and turning his focus to mush. It’s already too late when the man’s fingers make their way inside of him, slick with water and body wash, and he pulls his mouth away in a moan. The twinges of pleasure from his prostate makes his entire body twitch, sensitive to every little brush of his fingertips. His cock takes interest where it’s pressed between their bodies, but he’s decidedly displeased with the turn of events.

“Cheater,” he hisses, burying his face away in the man’s shoulder. It’s impossible, he thinks, to make Viktor bend even a little. He’s adamant about not giving up even a single ounce of control and every time Archer thinks he can make him sway, it backfires and works in the man’s favor. It’s annoying, though it doesn’t stop him from moving in time with his fingers.
 
Viktor chuckles, both at the moan, and at being called cheater. He was serious when he said he would make the boy bend to his will, and this is only the beginning. Viktor's fingers stroke and massage that bundle of nerves, even as his hips roll against Archer's abdomen.

"You're too irresistible, Archer. I won't be able to keep my hands off you." As the redhead is hiding his face, Viktor just watches his body move. The way his muscles quiver and flex as the man stimulates his prostate. Just like before on the couch, Viktor is playing a game of rise and fall, bringing Archer up only to let him down, over and over until the boy is a panting mess clinging to Viktor for support.
 
Archer’s own body was a cheating traitor. He was hard again, even after the stunt on the couch, and needy for friction to grind up into. It’s maddening, the amount of times he’s brought so far up, only to be taken back down before anything can come of it. A succession of unbearable pleasure, to touches that are more moderate, and back to feeling like he’s going to explode. He hates it and he loves it, hates that Viktor can reduce him to such a pathetic mess and loves the way it makes him feel and hates that he loves it at all.

He’s making incoherent noises with every push and fleeting touch to his prostate, dragging his cock against Viktor’s body. Moans and gasps, words that probably don’t make any sense. It’s all too much, yet not enough.
 
Viktor watches, gaze intense, at the way Archer molds to his touch. A third finger is added, and the man resumes this game of his. The boy is so sensitive, it makes playing it all too easy. And the murmured, unintelligible words, just make Viktor want to hear the boy's voice more.

"Let me hear you, Archer. Beg for me to bury myself inside. Beg for me to take you until you feel you might break from bliss." Viktor's words are half whisper, half growl in the redhead's ear. Over and over, up and down that peak, torturing Archer with that just out of reach orgasm, yet knowing the boy is enjoying every second.
 
Earlier, Archer wouldn’t have begged. Now, however, he’s tired and on the edge of bliss, so close to his orgasm that he wants nothing more than for Viktor to let him have it. He whines as he presses little kisses across his skin, silently begging, but he knows that won’t be enough for Viktor to accept it.

“Please, Viktor, I want you inside me. Wanna feel you, please,” he begs, every word more breathless than the last. Mouthing at Viktor’s neck, exhaling roughly into his shoulder, face burning. Later, he might be embarrassed, but he’ll say anything right now if it will make Viktor listen.
 
Viktor groans at Archer's breathy words. That's what he wants to hear, to have Archer begging for the man to fuck him. Once more, Viktor brings Archer to the edge. However, know as the redhead declines away from that orgasm again, Viktor grasps the back of his thighs, lifting him off his feet. He presses Archer's back to the shower wall, then buries his cock inside the boy.

There's no waiting, not letting Archer adjust this time. Viktor sets a steady pace, not overly rapid, but fast enough to make the slap of their skin sound like a drumbeat. Viktor groans, hands firmly gripping Archer's thighs as his hips buck hard. Even after having just gone a round, the boy is still a tight fit.
 
“Viktor,” he groans the man’s name as he’s given the release he so desperately needed, making a mess of the man’s skin, but there’s no time to come down from the high. He’s lifted up, ankles instinctively locking behind Viktor’s back and hands curling into his back. Once more, he’s filled to bursting with the man’s hard cock, and not given a second to adjust before sets his own pace.

He’s almost crying now from how sensitive the bundle of nerves that he hits is. It’s nearly painful and he muffles the sound of his own blubbering against wet skin, so that all he can hear is the slap of Viktor’s hips against him.
 
Viktor is bucking hard, breathing against Archer's ear. A mix of groans and grunts are pulled from him, as he drives his cock deep into the redhead. It's clear he won't ever let Archer have control. Viktor is true to his word, claiming Archer and making him submit.

Viktor doesn't last as long this round, and he's soon pounding into Archer in short thrusts. He grunts, then buries his cock to the hilt. A second later, his hot release spills into the redhead, chased by a loud groan. This time, Viktor doesn't let Archer free himself, holding him captive against the wall, and grinding his hips hard against the boy, somehow sinking his cock deeper.
 
Archer couldn’t have freed himself if he wanted to. He’s been turned into a boneless pile of pale, freckled skin and red hair, crying from overstimulation. Hot tears burn his eyes, his entire body shaking as Viktor thrusts through his release, and continues moving even after that. His nails dig into his back, dragging across his skin, biting down on his bottom lip to try to regulate his own breathing. He can’t take anymore, it’s too much, his body is on fire even as they’re sprayed with water.

He’s sniffling when he pushed his face into Viktor’s neck, unable to stop his own trembling, and he’s not certain he’ll be able to stand if the man puts him down. No, he doesn’t want to be put down. Even though the water is warm, he’s shivering like he’s freezing, and he can’t stop crying. Viktor will never let him have any control, he knows this, and it’s the reason he has to make his thoughts clear. He has to ask Viktor. “Hold me?”
 
Viktor can feel Archer trembling, can hear his sniffles. He's been rough with the boy on purpose, molding the redhead's body to crave him. Though his hips are finally still, he keeps his cock buried, like a silent, constant reminder of who's in charge. Eventually, Viktor will make his claim known to his family, but for now, he needs Archer to know and understand that claim more than anyone.

Hearing the boy's words, Viktor changes his grip on Archer. His right arm goes around the boy's waist, left hand still gripping his thigh to hold him up. "I've got you, Archer. Good boy." The praise is purred into the redhead's ear as Viktor turns, releasing Archer's thigh to turn off the water. When he does, Archer slips down just a bit, which causes a bit more pressure as Viktor cock presses ever tighter inside him.

Seeming content to keep Archer exactly where he is, Viktor steps out of the tub, using a towel to dry them off one handed. Hair still damp, but not dripping, Viktor now walks them to the bedroom. There, he sits on the bed, Archer held on his lap.
 
Viktor reached his goal and then some. The smaller man is not only so exhausted that he has no bark, he doesn’t even want to start an argument in the first place. Doesn’t want to deny himself what’s right in front of him: a man who not only fucked him senseless into next week, but also showed enough care to make up for the rough treatment.

Good boy. Those words had him shivering more. He liked hearing them, being told that Viktor thought he was good. Good for him.

Archer’s body is still wrapped around his cock, though, and he whines as it shifts inside of him when the man moves. It’s not comfortable, but when they sit down on the bed, it’s even less so. Gravity drags him down and puts too much pressure on the sorest parts of him, makes him squirm. The less he moves, though, the less it hurts. Eventually, he falls still, with his head on the man’s chest. He dozes like that, bordering the line between consciousness and sleep. At some point, he hears himself murmuring, “Am I yours?”
 
Viktor likes to see Archer squirm. He's well aware the boy isn't exactly comfortable, but he's letting his cock leave an imprint of sorts on the boy's insides. A memory of what Archer will be receiving time and time again in the future. When the redhead stills, Viktor runs his hands up and down the boy's back. The murmured question makes him smile.

"You are mine, Archer. You belong to me now. I want you to remember that." Viktor pulls the boy with him as he moves back on the bed. His hips press up, likely earning himself a whine or other similar sound from the redhead. Viktor's arms pull Archer down to lay on his chest, without letting him lift his hips. He expects the tired boy to fall asleep, just like this.
 
Archer does fall asleep like that, curled up on top of him, not entirely comfortable but warm. Safe, in Viktor’s arms, quickly drifting off to sleep.

He wakes sometime in the morning. Sunlight pouring in through the windows, lighting up the room, his thighs cramped and sticky. When he turns to move he’s met with a sharp, unexpected throb of pain and hisses quietly through his teeth. The events of the night before are no mystery—he remembers all too well what happened. The way Viktor made him come over and over again, how he made him his. That thought, rather than irritate him, filled him with a mixed sense of anxiety and excitement. He didn’t know what to expect from this, but he could say with honesty that he wanted to find out.

While he did not receive permission to do so, he takes advantage of the fact that Viktor is asleep to lift his hips free, relieved at last to no longer have that constant pressure. Although he's instantly hit with how empty he feels now, even though there’s still the phantom sensation of being full.
 
Viktor groans in his sleep when Archer lifts himself off. He'd been comfortable with his cock buried all night, even if Archer hadn't been. The movement is enough to wake the man, being that he's a light sleeper. Archer doesn't get far.

Viktor rolls over, pinning Archer down on his stomach and covering him. Viktor's mouth presses hot, open kisses along the redhead's shoulders. "Morning, gorgeous." Viktor's deep voice has a morning roughness, rumbling against Archer's skin. His arms wrap around the boy, trapping him. Because he's laying on the redhead, Viktor's cock is pressed between his cheeks. Thankfully for Archer, Viktor's not hard.
 
Archer is amused by Viktor’s display, letting out a small chuckle as he feels warm kisses trail across his shoulders. His voice sounds rough and rumbles pleasantly against him. “Mm, good morning,” he yawns back, too tired to move and frankly too comfortable to leave the snug arms around him. He wants to wiggle around and face Viktor, but it’s not possible when he’s bracketed by strong arms and a heavy body. It surprises him that he doesn’t feel like he’s being squished.

“You wore me out,” he huffs, but the words are playful, not vicious. The memories of last night, if he weren’t so exhausted, would have made him hard all over again.
 
Viktor chuckles roughly, rubbing his face on Archer's shoulder. "That was the idea. You're adorable when you're fucked tired." Viktor yawns, then squeezes his arms around the redhead beneath him. "We should just stay here all day and--"

Viktor's cellphone rings from the front room where he had left it in his jeans. With a groan, he pushes himself up and gets to his feet. "Stay there, I'll be right back." To the front room he goes, answering the phone. His side of the conversation can be heard.

"What?.. I'm at home.. No, I'm not alone.. What?.. No, you can meet him yourself, you know the details.. Yes, I'm well aware-- Do not yell at me.. Just go meet him, make the deal, and be done with it.. Then just deal with him.. Take Jared.. I don't care if you don't like him.. Vince, don't make me tell you again.. Good. Bye." The entire half of the conversation at first seems normal, but soon becomes strange, given that Viktor's voice gets irritated.

Viktor returns down the hall, standing in the doorway. "Now then. As I was saying, stay in bed all day and cuddle? I can order takeout breakfast." All the irritation is gone from his voice just as quick as it had come, and he's smiling warmly.
 
Archer is enjoying every bit of this, until the shrill of a cell phone cuts it short. He doesn’t follow, but he does lift his head up, red hair bed-tousled and wild.

The conversation that Archer hears is strange. It starts normally, but then he gets confused after a few seconds. At first, he thinks Viktor is talking about him—that whoever is on the other end can come meet him, which he finds bizarre. Why would anyone need to meet him so suddenly? As soon as a deal is mentioned, he realizes it isn’t about him after all, but someone else. All he manages to piece together is that there’s a deal that needs to be made, two men named Jared and Vince are involved, and that Viktor is irritated by the time he hangs up.

He expects there to be anger when the man returns to the doorway, but there’s nothing of the sort. It’s gone, replaced by warmth. Curiosity killed the cat—Archer doubts he’ll be killed. He’s no less curious than one, though.

“Breakfast muffins in bed sound amazing,” he hums, making zero moves to get out of bed himself. He’s content where he is, lounging like a lazy cat. Carefully, he adds, “Was that a business call? You sounded upset.”
 
Viktor walks over to Archer, crawling back on top of him. One arm goes under him, and he sighs against the boy's chest. "Just a business deal. And people who think they need me to hold their hand for it." With his other hand, Viktor places an online order to a nearby fast food place for breakfast muffins and coffee.

Before submitting, Viktor pauses. "Do you drink coffee? I didn't even think to ask. I keep forgetting you're younger than me. So many young adults don't drink coffee anymore."
 
“Too bad for them, your hands are tied. I’m greedy and I demand all your attention for the rest of the day,” Archer laughed, welcoming the man back on top of him. It’s weird, how easy it is to speak and laugh with him, without spending every moment trying to defy the man’s wishes. When he’s not purposefully being an ass, his conversations with Viktor are nice. Especially when he’s allowed to ask for all the cuddles he wants. The question makes him laugh again, this time a chuckle he ends with a kiss to the man’s cheek. “I don’t know how anyone functions without coffee. I’ll take mine with vanilla.”

The conversation makes him think, though. “How old are you, anyway? You don’t look that much older than me.”
 
Viktor shrugs, adding a vanilla coffee to the order and hitting submit. He picks the pay at the door option, then finalizes it. Putting his phone down, he wraps his other arm under Archer as well. "You never know, there's so many studies going around that coffee is addictive, and bad for your health."

When asked his age, and Archer comments on Viktor not looking much older than him, Viktor laughs. "I'm thirty one, aged like a fine wine. You're, what, sixteen?" Viktor is teasing; of course the boy must be at least nineteen to have gotten hired at his club, that being legal age in Retroan.
 
“Ha, no. I’m twenty one, thank you very much,” Archer corrects him with a playful flick to the man’s ear. Gentle, amused. He knows that Viktor was only teasing. Everyone who worked at the club was at least nineteen. There was ten years of life between them—different, but not strange. With a wink and a smile, he says, “I’ve never been with a mature man before. I always seem to attract the dumb, immature ones. You know, the type who’ll fuck me in a bathroom stall but won’t let me into their actual bed.”

Ah, such was the life of a stripper. Not a bad one by any means, but some men were simply born to be irritating. “Or the ones who take me to dinner several times a week in between booty calls, but then try to slowly break the news to me that they’re in a committed, monogamous relationship. Typical drama.”
 
Viktor shakes his head when Archer flicks his ear, grinning. That grin quickly becomes a scowl when Archer talks about his past failed hookups and relationships. He growls, kissing the boy's chest. "Good thing we went from couch to shower to bed, then, hm? I won't let you go through that again. You're mine, now."

Viktor's cell rings again and he outright growls in frustration. He doesn't check the call display as he grabs it off the bedside table, and his voice is both irritated and angry. "What?!" A pause, then his eyes widen. The anger leaves his voice in a heartbeat. "I am so sorry, I thought you were someone else. The address is the Whiskey Rose club on one eleven Avenue.. Yeah the one a couple blocks from Central Plaza.. I live here.. Yeah, the door will be locked but there's a doorbell, someone will come get the order and pay you.. Thanks, I'm so sorry for yelling at you. Bye." Viktor hangs up and bursts into laughter. "Oops. That was the delivery guy."
 
You’re mine.

Archer still isn’t sure exactly what it means, entirely. He knows that Viktor wants—and has been given—his submission, but outside of sex, he’s unsure what the man is after. Sex he’s familiar with, for the most part. Whatever this is? Not so much. Even so, hearing those words fills him with a type of happiness and satisfaction he can’t hide. It lights up his entire face like a beacon.

Viktor’s accidental outburst toward the delivery boy has Archer howling with laughter. He’s unable to contain it as the man apologizes and hangs up, laughing so hard that his face turns almost as red as his hair. It’s so funny to think that this calm, patient man has such a hidden temper, and that he would forget to check the ID before answering. When he calms down enough to speak, it’s only to sputter out a wheezing, “Oh my god, that poor delivery guy. He must be terrified.“
 
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