Since then, he had kept his sharper fangs at bay, sinking them into Wooheon’s fingers instead.
It still left bite marks, still drew blood, but at least this time, nothing had been torn apart.
That was the only mercy Wooheon had been granted.
“Ahhn—!”
Not that it helped much.
Despite Yueul’s attempt to be mindful of him, Wooheon showed no restraint in return.
The thick barb scraped mercilessly against swollen walls, catching on every nerve.
Each time he pulled back, the tight heat clung to him, refusing to let go.
“Haa, hhngh, I-I hate this position....”
“Really?”
Wooheon smirked, shifting his grip on Yueul’s waist.
“You seem to be enjoying it the most, though.”
His pace slowed, but the intensity never wavered.
Each movement was deep, firm, and unbearably controlled.
Every time he rolled his hips, the thick length buried inside ground against him, pressing deeper, stretching him to his limit.
The outline in his stomach was even more visible now.
