Cries of "yours..! Yours!" effect Victor far more than he'd ever expect. There's surprise in how easily Yuuri leans into the possessive before his name. It sparks all kinds of hot, dominating passions, an aggressive and demanding kind of romance. Victor's free hand is grabbing Yuuri's other arm, pinning that one up beside his head, as well. Fingers lace and he holds his weight into the other skater's palms. Yuuri is splayed out, completely exposed, beneath him. It couldn't be sexier if he dreamed it up.

"Hai, Yuuri," his voice is rough with exertion, but Victor's body only moves faster. He's going to fuck Yuuri silly if he keeps turning the older man on so damn much, exploiting Yuuri's prostate with continued attention, while he rattles off, "All mine, my precious Yuuri, my Yuuri,"