It truly was lucky that for once Richard had actually taken into consideration their agreed activities when choosing his outfit. Instead of the usual leather that clung to his body like a second skin, he had worn dark, loose shirt. It didn't take much effort from Silco to tug the strings and buttons on the front open, exposing the white binder flattening his chest. Some of the blood had trailed down along the collar of his shirt, staining the edges of the white cloth in dried red.

Narrowing his eyes, Richard cast a hungry look at the man underneath him. He kept his palm pressed down on the other's chest, keeping him down while the other one still griped on the knife. Richard slowly licked his top-lip and shook his head.

"No." He answered to the demand, voice full of authority. His poise did not even shake when Silco rolled his hips, briefly pressing his hardness against Richard's ass, sending a sharp jolt of electricity through his spine. A pleasurable pool of heat began to stir in his guts.

Richard mimicked Silco's movement, rolling his own hips and rocking them back and forth. Creating the friction between their bodies and making sure to lean against the hardness inside Silco's pants.