Chapter 238 Cuffs and Neon Confessions

Chapter 238 Cuffs and Neon Confessions
Takeshi's breath was warm against Oliver's ear, the words soft but laced with unmistakable intent. "I need you to sit down, Mr. Oliver."

Oliver's pulse thundered. He let Takeshi guide him backward until the backs of his knees hit the sleek leather office chair near the drafting table. Takeshi pushed gently, and Oliver sank into it, still shirtless, still hard, still staring up at the younger man in those ridiculous pink bear pajamas like he couldn't quite believe this was happening.

Takeshi climbed onto his lap for a second, straddling him, and kissed him hard—deep, claiming, full of every frustrated emotion of the day. Then he reached into the pocket of his pajama pants and pulled out a pair of sleek silver cuffs. The metal glinted under the red and blue lights.

Oliver's eyes widened. "Takeshi—"

The soft click of the cuffs locking around his wrists behind the chair was loud in the quiet garage. Oliver tugged once on instinct, the metal biting gently into his skin. He was trapped. Completely at Takeshi's mercy.

Shock and raw heat flooded his system at the same time.

Takeshi sat back on Oliver's thighs, looking down at him with dark, hungry eyes. "You've made me sad for so long," he whispered, voice trembling with emotion even as his fingers trailed down Oliver's chest. "Ignoring what I needed. Pushing me away when all I wanted was you. Making me feel like I was too much… or not enough."

His thumbs found Oliver's nipples and rolled them slowly, deliberately, pinching just enough to make Oliver's breath hitch. Then he leaned down and locked his mouth around one, sucking hard, teeth grazing the sensitive peak while his fingers tortured the other. Oliver groaned, head falling back against the chair, wrists pulling uselessly at the cuffs.

"Takeshi… fuck—"

Takeshi switched to the other nipple, sucking, biting, licking until both were flushed and aching. His hands never stopped moving—tracing the lines of Oliver's abs, dipping lower only to tease the waistband of his pants without going further. Every touch was slow, intentional, designed to drive Oliver insane.

"I'm going to punish you for every hour you made me feel unwanted," Takeshi whispered against his skin, voice thick with both love and heat. He bit down lightly on Oliver's collarbone, then soothed it with his tongue. "For every time you looked at me like I might break… when all I wanted was for you to take me apart."

He ground down slowly against Oliver's hard cock, still trapped in his pants, and Oliver's hips jerked upward with a desperate sound. Takeshi only smiled, wicked and soft at the same time, and returned to tormenting Oliver's nipples—sucking, twisting, locking them between his teeth until Oliver was panting, sweat starting to bead on his chest under the dual-colored lights.

"You're mine tonight," Takeshi murmured, eyes locked on Oliver's. "And I'm going to make you feel everything you made me feel… until you understand just how much I want you. Not just sex. You."

He leaned in and kissed Oliver again—slower this time, deeper, pouring every unspoken feeling into it—while his fingers continued their relentless, teasing assault on Oliver's oversensitive nipples. Oliver's cuffed hands clenched behind the chair, body trembling with the overwhelming mix of restraint, pleasure, and emotion.

Takeshi pulled back just enough to whisper against his swollen lips, "This is only the beginning of your punishment, Mr. Oliver… and I've waited far too long for it." 

Takeshi slid off Oliver's lap with deliberate grace, sinking to his knees between the older man's spread thighs. His fingers hooked into the waistband of Oliver's pants and dragged them down slowly, revealing the thick, flushed cock that sprang free—already glistening at the tip, hard and desperate. Oliver's breath hitched as the cool air of the garage kissed his heated skin.

Takeshi leaned in close, so close Oliver could feel the warmth of his breath, and began pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of Oliver's inner thighs, up the crease of his hip, then lower… tracing the base of his cock with his lips, never quite touching the aching length itself. He kissed the sharp cut of Oliver's V-line, the soft skin just beneath the head, the heavy weight of his balls—everywhere except where Oliver needed him most.

"Takeshi…" Oliver groaned, wrists straining against the cuffs, hips twitching helplessly. "Please—"

Takeshi only smiled, rising to his feet again. He stepped back just far enough that Oliver had no choice but to watch.

With agonizing slowness, Takeshi began to undress. First the oversized pink pajama top—buttons undone one by one, revealing smooth skin and the soft planes of his chest. He let the fabric slip from his shoulders and pool on the shiny black floor. Then the bottoms, pushed down over his hips until he stood completely bare under the dual red-and-blue lights, cock already hard and flushed.

Oliver's eyes burned as he took in every inch.

Takeshi's hands rose to his own chest. He traced his nipples with delicate fingers, pinching and rolling them while a soft, breathy moan of Oliver's name spilled from his lips. "Oliver…" He moaned again, quieter, more broken, as one hand slid down his stomach and wrapped around his own cock. He stroked himself slowly, deliberately, eyes locked on Oliver's face the entire time.

Oliver's control frayed. A deep, guttural grunt tore from his throat. His cock twitched hard against his stomach, a thick bead of precum forming at the tip and dripping down in a clear, shiny strand that landed on the pristine epoxy floor with a soft, wet sound. Another followed. Then another. His chest heaved, muscles straining, the metal of the cuffs biting into his wrists as he fought the urge to break free and take what he needed.

Takeshi's strokes quickened just a fraction, hips rocking into his own fist as he kept moaning Oliver's name like a prayer, nipples still flushed and sensitive under his teasing fingers.

Oliver's cock jerked again, more precum spilling onto the floor in a messy trail, the sight of Takeshi touching himself while denying him almost enough to make him lose it completely.