His own rough sounds of pleasure escaped him as the harsh scratching continued. The white-hot flare of pain lingered even as the healing took over.

He watched Chris, savoring the sight of him so completely undone beneath him, at the razor's edge of desperation and need. There were no limits, and he could do anything he wanted to him. What Blonsky did was grab a fistful of his hair, and force Chris to look at him.

"No." He replied. His voice was steady despite his breathy moans, and how close he was getting. His hand movements increased, intent on putting them both over that edge at the same time.