The hurt was a tell-tale sign of who he was dealing with. He liked the marks. He'd let Yuri leave them all over his skin if he wanted. His skin for so long became a reminder of every time he had sex with Yuri. Even when he had been back in Canada, he'd catch himself moving his hand to where the welts had so often been on his neck.

Awkwardly, he shifted a little, his legs and body moved, since that was all that he could move. His legs would have welts, he would feel the soreness through his back, a reminder of what he had let happen.

He moaned as Yuri's hips moved. "Yes," he encouraged. That damn grin of his spread on his features. "You're strong," he complimented. Not a word he would have ever used. "I like it, Kitten."

The nickname was his little way to antagonize Yuri in the only way he knew how and could now - with his mouth.