The air in Luka's dimly lit bedroom was thick with tension, smelling of old guitar strings and sweat. Arthur stood before him, trembling slightly, his eyes downcast in submission. Luka smirked, his fingers—calloused from years of plucking strings—reaching out to trace the line of Arthur's jaw. "You're all mine tonight," Luka murmured, his voice a low, commanding growl.

He didn't waste time. With a swift tug, Luka pulled Arthur's shirt over his head, exposing his pale chest. Arthur's nipples were already hard, little pink nubs begging for attention. Luka pinched one between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it roughly. Arthur gasped, a sharp intake of breath that made Luka's cock twitch in his jeans. "Love how sensitive these are," Luka taunted, leaning in to lick the other nipple, then biting down gently. Arthur moaned, his hands fisting at his sides, obeying the unspoken rule not to touch.

Luka's hands slid down to Arthur's belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. He yanked the pants and boxers down in one motion, letting them pool at Arthur's ankles. Arthur's dick sprang free, already half-hard and leaking pre-cum. But Luka ignored it for now, his focus on the round, pale globes of Arthur's ass. He gave one cheek a sharp slap—the sound crackling through the room like a snare drum. Arthur jolted, a red handprint blooming on his skin. "Such a pretty ass," Luka cooed, spanking him again, harder this time