Games We Play

Hey all! *waves* I hope you’re as excited to read this as I was to write it! Please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don’t own Yu-Gi-Oh! That means you don’t sue me for writing this.
Warning: This fic contains yaoi and a lemon. If you don’t like it, don’t read it.


*****

I can feel your eyes boring into me from across the room. I shift slightly, wishing to some higher power that I could ignore you. You’re not going to give up on me that easily. You never have before.


A whisper of fabric- my only warning that you’ve closed in on me. Your breath is warm on my neck as you nuzzle my hair. I don’t jump; I still have control- barely- as my heart pounds. Somehow I plaster a bored look on my face.


“Can I help you?”


Your fingers brush against my back as you fumble with the catches on my neck guard.


“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”


I’m out of my chair before you respond, whirling to face you. The ornamental gold band is still in your hand. I frown, confused, as you smirk, eyeing me, and only then do I notice the stinging in my neck and the blood slowly dripping down the metal. Damn. I’d forgotten how sharp the edges were. You smile as you run your tongue suggestively over my neckpiece, cleaning it. I bite back a moan, trying to glare even as my pants become too tight. You’re a sick freak, and I love you for it.


You drop the band as soon as you see the look I’m giving you. I’m ready; you know it. I dart out of the way as you lunge at me, your beautiful eyes dark with lust. Heh. You may be stronger, but I’m still faster. You won’t catch me until I let you. I enjoy leading you on, smirking as I hear your frustrated growl; I’ve evaded you again.


I’m caught up in my self-satisfaction a second too long- your body slams into mine, driving the air out of my lungs as you knock me to the floor, straddling me. I snarl obscenities as you pin my hands over my head; I buck, trying to throw you. I can feel you through your clothing- my fight only serves to turn you on. Good.


“Easy… If you keep fighting me like this it will only hurt more,” you chuckle, knowing that’s how we both like it.


My curses are silenced by your lips crushing mine, your tongue demanding entrance. I’m not going to comply that easily, and you know it- your teeth clamp onto my lip, wringing a moan from my throat. It’s all the invitation you need to invade, our tongues dueling for dominance as your hand snakes down my chest. My body arches into your touch- you know how much I enjoy this.


When your lips finally leave mine I’m panting, lightheaded.


“Eager, are we?”


I glare up at your pale, perfect face- do you even know how sexy you look when you smirk at me like that? I smile inwardly as a new realization dawns on me: you’ve released my wrists.


“Fuck you.”I flip you over in an instant, catching you off guard. I somehow manage to get your shirt off you, planting both hands firmly on your chest and admiring the contrast we make- bronze and ivory.


I trace a torturous route down your torso with my tongue, accenting my path with sharp nips, marking you as mine in a language we both know. You’re whimpering by the time I reach your waistband; I can feel you holding back a moan- at least, until my nails rake down your sides. Who’s moaning and arching now?


“Eager, are we?” I taunt, turning your phrase against you. I’m going to enjoy this. So are you, if you can give up control for a while- but I doubt you will for long. I can see your jaw clench; I know that all you want is to flip me over and fuck me hard.


“Will you quit screwing around?”


I’m surprised you got that sentence out with how tightly your mouth is clamped. It’s my turn to smirk as I slowly release the button on your jeans and pull the zipper down with my teeth. I can feel you tense under me. You’re trying to bite back a whine as I slowly remove your pants and boxers, inch by torturous inch. I smirk up at you and you growl, thrashing a bit to throw me. I’m not going to make it that easy. My hands skim your muscular thighs, ghosting past your need, coming to rest on your hips. I feel rather than hear your whine as I nuzzle your arousal. You’re panting, eyes mere slits, as you wait, begging me with your whimpers to relieve your agony. Do you even know how beautiful you look right now?


I wait until your eyes open more, until you glare at me for my shit-eating grin.


“Malik, you son of a ---!” The rest of your sentence becomes a strangled cry as I swallow you in one swift motion, hitting all of your sensitive spots on the way down. I release you slowly, relishing your taste and texture, the way you fill me. I suck on your head for a moment, listening to you hiss as I run my tongue over the slit. If I thought my pants were too tight before, they become unbearable when you moan my name, the edge in your voice telling me you wish I’d speed up. Smirking as much as I can around your length, I happily comply, letting out a moan of my own as your hands fist in my hair, moving me faster. At this rate, I’ll be lucky if I don’t cum just from the noises you’re making…


As soon as you buck into my mouth I sit up, shivering at your discontented moan. Much as I’d love to finish you now, I’d rather torment you.


“Hmmm… What am I now…?” I give you a self-satisfied smirk, sliding up your body and hovering over you, our lips centimeters apart.


You close the gap, pulling me in by my hair and biting my already sore neck. My yelp transforms into a moan as you rock against me, the friction pushing the limits of my control. I can’t keep up the game much longer; your nips and kisses down my neck are sending me into a pleasurable haze. I’m falling…


I’m jarred back to reality with the smack of my back hitting the floor. Ow. That will be bruised tomorrow. You kiss me again, chastely, almost apologetically… And my mind goes blank as you stroke me through my pants. The rip of a zipper, the movement of fabric, and finally I’m free of my constraints, moaning as you grind into me, building up the tension inside with sweet friction. Your hair tickles my chest as you lean over me, elbows just below my shoulders, hands cupping my face, stroking my cheeks.


“You know I love it when you play hard to get,” you purr, running your tongue along the shell of my ear. I manage to let out a noise- it should have been of dissent, but I can’t help it, you’re driving me crazy as you grind against me and your lips travel my jawbone. I’m sure it sounded more like a moan of want. I scramble to find my last bit of control as you move down my neck, my fingers clawing at your back, feeling the blood under my nails as you hiss against my shoulder.


“Fucking psychopath.” Oh God you feel so amazing pressed against me like this. You smirk against me, sensing more than seeing my feeble attempt at a glare, cutting it short with a bite to my collarbone that draws blood.


One gasp, one arch, and that’s all it takes. Pain and pleasure shoot through me as you bury yourself to the hilt, my eyes watering from the agonizing, blissful sensation. You’re stretching me, tearing me, not waiting for me to adjust before you pound into me. I’m seeing stars once you get your rhythm, the pain only serving to accentuate my pleasure as you hit that one sweet spot… Every. Fucking. Time. You’re pumping me hard now, creating more friction, more pain, good God I won’t be able to hold on much longer; my whole body is already tensing, pain and pleasure mixing, creating a heady sensation that drives me closer to the brink. I’m sure that my supposed glare is more a look of glassy-eyed pleasure.


Your teeth find my neck and the next thing I know I’m screaming your name as I climax, my body convulsing against yours. I can feel your teeth break the skin again, your cry vibrating through me as you find release.


You’re shaking when you finally sit up, pushing sweaty white bangs out of your eyes. You grin as you lick my blood from your lips and pull out. Your eyes are still dark with lust; I know it’s not over just yet. I’m right- you haul me up by the hair, slamming me into the wall with your demanding kiss, making me fight to dominate you this time. You pull back too soon, and my groan of disappointment follows your retreat.


I can see the need building in your eyes as you hold me back, keeping me from your tempting mouth. Your feral grin sends fingers of anticipation down my spine, straight to my groin.


“Ready for round two?”


I growl and lunge, breaking your grip, pushing you to the bed. That’s all it takes- I’m back on the edge, loving what you do to me, hating that you have this power over me. God help me, I’m addicted to you. There’s one small comfort in this sordid affair- I have the same power over you. It’s all part of the game we play.