The Tyrant's Secret fetish-Chapter 84

Ye Jun

Si Woo snapped that stupid leather collar around my throat like it was the most normal thing in the world, kissed the little silver plate right over my pulse, and then just... stopped. Stopped stroking, stopped everything, left me shaking and leaking and half a second from crying actual tears of pure frustration while he grinned down at me like he’d won the damn lottery. "Get dressed," he said, voice all rough and pleased. "We’re going. Right now. For the where else."

I blinked up at him, collar already feeling like it weighed a hundred pounds even though it was just thin leather and a tiny plate I still hadn’t dared look at. "Going where? The psych ward? Because you need to be committed, Si Woo, this is next-level crazy." My voice cracked right in the middle because I.... I was still right there on the edge, balls aching, thighs trembling, and he was just standing there pulling on his own shirt like we were late for coffee.

He laughed, that low rumble that always made my stomach flip whether I wanted it to or not, and tossed my jeans at my face. "You said yes last night. Collar’s on. Mouth claimed me yesterday, now your skin’s claiming me back. Permanently . No more pretending you hate this when we both know you don’t." He leaned down, nipped at the collar where it met my skin, and I swear my hips jerked up on their own. "Get dressed or I drag you out naked. Your choice."

"I hate you," I muttered, yanking the jeans on even though my cock was still straining against the fabric and every movement made the collar rub and remind me it was there. "I really, really hate you. This thing feels like a dog tag and if Mom sees it downstairs I’m telling her you’re into some weird cult shit."

I pulled the hoodie over my head fast, zipping it all the way up to hide the leather because the last thing I needed was my parents asking why I suddenly had jewelry around my neck like some emo teenager. "And where the hell is ’where else’ anyway? You better not say the tattoo parlor because I swear on my life if some random dude is staring at my ass with a needle I will walk out and never speak to you again."

Si Woo just grabbed my wrist, pulled me toward the door, and smirked. "No random dude. I learned how to do it myself. Private studio. Mine. No one else touches you there. Ever." He said it so casually, like he was announcing he’d learned to cook eggs or something, and I stopped dead in the hallway.

"You what?" My voice came out way too loud and Dad yelled from the living room asking if we were fighting again. I lowered it fast but kept glaring. "You learned to tattoo? Just so you could put your name on my body without another guy seeing? That’s not romantic, that’s serial-killer level planning, Si Woo. How long have you been planning this? Weeks? Months? While I was still pretending I didn’t want your hands on me?"

"Since the first time you let me fuck you," he said, shrugging like it was nothing, then dragged me down the stairs and out the front door before I could even yell back. Mom called after us about dinner later and Si Woo yelled "We’ll be back!" all sweet and normal while I was internally screaming.

In the car he shoved me into the passenger seat, started the engine, and immediately dropped his hand on my thigh like it belonged there. "Spread," he ordered again, fingers already sliding up to brush over my cock through the denim, light enough to tease, heavy enough to keep me throbbing.

"Fuck you, no," I snapped, but my legs opened anyway because my body was a traitor and the collar was warm against my throat and I was still so edged from breakfast that one touch made me hiss.

"Keep your hand there and drive like a normal person or I’m jumping out at the next red light. I’m serious. This is kidnapping with extra steps and my dick is not your gear shift."

He laughed again, rubbed slow circles right over the head of my cock, and pulled out onto the road. "You’re leaking already. Feel that? Right through your jeans. Tell me how much you hate it while you push up into my hand like a desperate little slut."

"I hate it, I hate everything about this, I hate that you own a tattoo studio now apparently and I hate that the collar is making me feel owned and I hate... " I was rambling, words tumbling out faster than I could think, voice cracking every time his thumb pressed down.

"Stop smiling like that, you smug bastard. If you make me cum in the car I’m never forgiving you and if you don’t let me cum I’m going to cry and... Never mind.

Cry all you want," he said, eyes on the road but fingers never stopping that evil slow rub. "You look pretty when you cry for me. And you’re not cumming until the ink’s in. Rules."

I groaned and banged my head back against the seat. "Ink? What ink? You still haven’t even told me what you’re putting on me or where. Is it your whole name? Your initials? A little heart that says ’Si Woo was here’? Because I swear if it’s anywhere near my dick I’m biting your fingers off the second you pick up the needle."

He squeezed my cock hard enough to make me gasp, then eased off again. "My name. Simple. In Black. Somewhere only I get to see when I peel your clothes off. And yeah, I learned because the thought of some other guy staring at your ass, touching your skin, breathing on you while he works? Nope. Not happening. This is mine. You’re mine."