Becoming the Terminally-Ill Villain Who Torments His Disciples - Chapter 110.2🔞
“And whose fault is it… that I ended up like this…?”
“Whose fault? Mine?”
“Of course. Who was it that taught me all these things?”
Cielo grumbled in response, then shifted his position, lifting his knees slightly to face Ryan directly. Spreading his legs to look at Ryan, Cielo wrapped his arms around Ryan’s neck and kissed him.
“You were the one who taught me how to kiss.”
“…”
“And… this too…”
Cielo’s hand slowly moved, gripping both Ryan’s rigid length and his own. His hands weren’t quite big enough to hold them both comfortably, making the motion awkward—but to Ryan, it was already overwhelming stimulation.
“Even… things like this… You were the one who taught me, Ryan.”
“Yeah, I taught you everything.”
Ryan pushed a finger deeper inside, then kissed Cielo’s lips as he let out a soft moan.
“So… how about I teach you one more thing?”
Whispering, he added another finger, pressing insistently against the tender inner walls. Each time his fingers brushed that sensitive spot, the tight entrance clenched, slick dripping out as if begging to take more. Cielo’s breathing grew hotter, his body unconsciously craving Ryan’s thick, burning heat.
“What… else… are you going to teach me…?”
“What if I fill you up… all the way to your deepest place?”
“N-No, you can’t… You’re already so deep—!”
“Really? I can’t?”
At the sound of Ryan’s sulky voice, Cielo’s hips lifted slightly. Ryan took advantage, rubbing the head of his cock against Cielo’s entrance, making his body move helplessly under his control.
“I—I don’t… ngh…!”
Cielo squeezed his eyes shut at the overwhelming pressure pushing into him. Even after all this time—before marriage, after marriage—he still couldn’t get used to Ryan’s size.
“Don’t say you don’t know.”
Ryan thrust his hips, and the thick length buried inside pressed even deeper, stretching him impossibly further.
Soon, the bathroom was filled with the sound of water sloshing in the tub, skin against skin, and desperate moans.
***
Early dawn.
Cielo slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times.
He was bundled up in thick pajamas and blankets—apparently, he’d passed out in the bathroom with Ryan last night.
“It didn’t even feel that long…”
Or… had it?
He remembered crying and losing his mind at some point, but everything after that was hazy.
Just as he tried to sit up—
“…Ah!”
A sharp twinge shot through his lower abdomen, drawing a small whimper from him. He clutched his stomach, frowning, when suddenly, the figure beside him jolted upright.
“What? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
A hand—smaller and softer than his own, though covered in scars—landed on top of Cielo’s.
“…Huh?”
Cielo turned his head slowly.
There, with sleep still clinging to his eyes… was a red-haired child.
“A… kid?”
“What was that sound just now, Cielo? Are you in pain? Did I push you too hard last ni—… Hm?”
Ryan, who had been speaking quickly, suddenly stopped, as if realizing something was off.
Tilting his head slightly, he asked seriously:
“Why… did you get bigger?”
Cielo reached out toward those familiar red eyes staring up at him, then grabbed Ryan’s slender arm and pulled.
As Ryan stumbled forward helplessly, Cielo laughed.
“I didn’t get bigger. You got smaller.”
“…What?”
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