Vars was worried he was being too rough but then Viktor asked for more and the punk obliged the request. He threw restraint to the wind and started pounding the other punk as hard as he could, aroused by the moans and just having Viktor pinned beneath him. That scream though was too much to take. The bassist bit harder, maybe drawing blood from Viktor's nape. The last few thrusts coming erratic and deep as he filled the punk's ass. It felt so good after wanting Viktor for awhile now.

Panting heavily, Vars finally let go of Viktor's neck, hips and hair. The dominance that had reared up subsided some now that Viktor wore his teeth marks on him. Some of the bites, and certainly the one on the back of the neck, were going to bruise and linger. Growling as he starts to come down, Vars slides his arm around Viktor's chest and kisses his shoulder lightly.

The Norwegian feels almost lightheaded from the orgasm and all the booze but it's not enough to deter the whisper.

"Pretty boy mine." He means it and he didn't share. His jealous streak as fiery as his temper and the Brit was his even if the possessiveness subsided with his calming, ragged breath.