His hand fists into their hair and yanks their head back, and Kurt cries out into the luxurious penthouse, a jolt of pain and surprise going through their entire body. It hurts a lot more than they’d imagined it would, when Molloy teased that he’d pull their hair during a livestream.

It makes their cock throb with need in their slacks. Though that could just be how secure he looks right now, firm and stern, completely confident Kurt will like this. He’s right.

“S-Sir—!” Their fingers twitch and clench into Molloy’s dress shirt, their eyes growing dark with need, wet with tears, the flush of color across their face deepening. They don’t call him sir on stream, do they? Whimpering, they rock their hips down against Molloy’s as they open their mouth to beg.

“Please… Daddy, p-please,” they whine, pouting up at him. “I want you so bad, Daddy. Please, I w-want you to fuck me, I need you to, please! D-Daddy, I’ve been so good!”