Becoming the Terminally-Ill Villain Who Torments His Disciples - Chapter 55.2 🔞
“Hurry…”
“Hurry and do what?”
His fingers circled the entrance but refused to push inside, teasing the slick, twitching hole instead.
‘I wish he’d just shove them in already.’
‘I wish he’d rub and press against the aching spot inside.’
But Ryan seemed determined not to penetrate until Cielo begged for it.
“You—put it in… please…”
“Put what in? Where?”
Cielo’s face burned crimson—so red it could rival the flushed skin between his legs. Ryan smirked, half-amused, half-admiring.
Frustrated, Cielo grabbed Ryan’s collar and yanked him close, their breaths mingling.
“You said you wanted to fuck me,” he hissed.
“……”
“If you hurt me, I’ll rip out every strand of your hair. So if you want that monstrous thing inside, stretch me properly first.”
At the threat, Ryan buried his face in Cielo’s shoulder, his body shaking—clearly stifling laughter.
“You’re going to drive me insane…”
His chest swelled with something warm and syrupy.
He didn’t want anyone else to see this side of Cielo.
Not the way pleasure melted his defenses so easily.
Not the way his moans pitched higher, sweeter than usual.
Not the way his sharp eyes softened, undone.
He wanted to claim it all for himself.
“The Doberman family has one rule,” Ryan murmured, nibbling Cielo’s earlobe.
Why bring up family customs now?
Cielo shot him a bewildered glance, but Ryan just grinned.
“Aren’t you curious what it is?”
“Why the hell—ah!—would I care about that right—nngh!”
Mid-protest, Ryan slid a finger inside.
The tight ring of muscle fluttered around the intrusion, and Cielo arched with a choked whimper.
The sensation was strange—slow, deliberate. With Oscar, pheromones had dulled his awareness, but now, sober and exposed, the shame of accepting someone else’s touch burned vividly.
“Hah… nn…!”
As the thick finger sank deeper, his legs fell open instinctively. But the fabric still tangled around his thighs made everything awkward.
“Clothes…” Cielo mumbled, tugging at his pants.
“You’ll get cold.”
“Then—ah—warm me up yourself.”
“What?”
“If you hold me close… I won’t feel the cold…”
Ryan barked a disbelieving laugh. In one swift motion, he stripped Cielo’s lower half bare, spread his thighs, and pushed in two fingers, scissoring ruthlessly.
“Ngh—! Hah…! Ah!”
Each drag against his inner walls sent jolts of pleasure-pain. But it wasn’t enough.
Panting, Cielo clutched Ryan’s sleeve and met his gaze.
“Ryan. Just… put it in already.”
He was desperate. He needed something thicker, fuller, carving him open.
“It’ll hurt if I do it like this. Didn’t you say you’d scalp me if I hurt you?”
“A little pain is… fine…”
The hole was still tight—stretched red around just two fingers.
Ryan added a third with a wet squelch, his voice lazy.
“I mentioned my family’s rule earlier.”
“Nh—ah! S-stop talking nonsense—!”
By the time Cielo took the third finger easily, Ryan pulled out, shoved his pants down, and lined up his cock.
He pressed the leaking tip against Cielo’s glistening entrance, leaned down to brush their lips together, and whispered:
“Dobermans spend their lives with their first.”
With one thrust, he sheathed himself inside.
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