Kisuke was doing this on purpose, Ichigo thought, frustrated. The headboard above him rattled as his wrists jerked against his bindings and the wood they were wrapped around. He wanted to touch, to have freedom of movement, but it was impossible in his current state.
Kisuke chuckled, his warm hands sliding from the outside of Ichigo’s bare thighs to cup his hips. His thumbs traced circles around Ichigo’s hipbones, his mouth a warm brush of air across Ichigo’s abdomen.
“Frustrated, my dear?” he asked, voice twisted with mischief and the same dancing in his grey eyes. He was far too amused with himself.
Ichigo twisted his jaw, growling low in his throat. “When I said you could tie me up, I didn’t know you were only going to tease me,” he said, and jerked his wrists against the ties again.
Those hands slid up again, smoothing over his sides, tickling at his ribs, fingers splayed over his muscled abdomen. Ichigo felt goosebumps rise in their wake. He was hot, his skin on fire, but there was something about the slow, sensual glide of Kisuke’s hands that made him shiver, made his cock throb with denied release.
“There is a certain pleasure to be found in simple touching,” Kisuke said, using that same, teaching tone he tended to adopt when explaining some simple Shinigami concept that flew over Ichigo’s head.
“For you or for me?” Ichigo demanded, head falling back against the pillow as Kisuke’s hands inched close to his groin and then wandered away again, one tickling the back of his left knee and the other rubbing up the center of his chest.
Breath ghosted across Ichigo’s hipbone and grey eyes looked up at him, dark with sensual desire. “We’ll both be satisfied by the end,” he said, voice thick with promise.
Ichigo groaned, hands sliding over his skin, smoothing around the slight curve of his hip, brushing teasingly over his nipples and making him arch into the touch. “You’re evil,” he accused, on the edge of a gasp, knowing that begging would get him nowhere.
Kisuke chuckled. “Only a little,” he said, which only proved Ichigo’s point. There was no escaping, no cajoling, no begging for a reprieve. Kisuke would only let Ichigo come when he was good and ready to which could be hours from now or in the next ten minutes.
Ichigo had no choice but to wait and writhe, trapped under Kisuke’s sinful hands.