If he's begging, the least Doul can do is to turn his head to better bite and suck a mark on the soft skin of his inner thigh. One hand on his hip to hold him steady, another teasing over his balls, and he wants the bruise to sting, to stay there for a day or two. Once he's satisfied with his work, he returns his focus on Huaisang's cock.

Another lick over the head, a smug smile. "Honey on my tongue, my lord. Hmm?" He doesn't wait for an answer before taking him in his mouth.