TSBIRBV Ch 170(NSFW)

Chapter 170 Heshi’s Bi (6)(NSFW)

“Haah, ah! Ahhht…!”

Yegyeol’s body twisted as sweet moans spilled from his lips, while Haryang’s tongue coiled around his shaft, licking upward.

His cock, swollen as if ready to pierce down his throat, was hard and burning hot. He had always known his disciple’s body heated too easily, but once stoked, the result was lewd beyond bearing.

Though he knew Yegyeol would be startled, he had no wish for foreplay, no patience for anything but burying himself between those trembling thighs.

Shameless, utterly shameless.

Sucking the cock of another man—his own cherished disciple—Haryang was unashamedly aroused.

“Senior… Senior Brother.”

To answer that call, Haryang drew him deeper into his mouth. The sensation scraping his throat might have choked him, but holding back was hardly difficult.

Now all his thoughts spun only around how to melt Yegyeol more thoroughly, which place he loved most, how to drive him to ruin.

It was a joy unlike any he had ever known in martial cultivation.

“Stop, I’m… going to…”

Above, Yegyeol’s hand hovered uncertainly, fingers flailing as though desperate to push yet unable to.

Shame and the cusp of ecstasy warred in him; he longed to resist, yet could not summon the strength.

Haryang exploited the opening with ease and achieved his aim.

“Ahh—hahhh!”

A cry sharper than any before tore from Yegyeol’s lips as his climax erupted. The sticky, bitter fluid flooded Haryang’s mouth. Without hesitation, he swallowed it down and lifted his head.

Yegyeol covered his face with both hands, shoulders trembling violently.

Even after enduring acts far more debauched, his disciple still blushed and squirmed like it was his first time. The sight unsettled Haryang’s chest.

“Why hide your face so?”

Feigning ignorance, he asked.

“I… I don’t know.” Yegyeol mumbled.

“What shame is there, between men?”

A gentle provocation, and the reaction came instantly.

“You’re not just some ‘other man’ to me, Senior Brother.”

Yegyeol’s nape flushed red as he protested.

“You’re not someone I can just strip naked beside, wash together like it’s nothing, toss my clothes around in front of. You’re not just anyone.”

“….”

Listening quietly, it almost seemed Yegyeol spoke only the words Haryang longed to hear.

“And you… swallowed it all…”

Lost, unable to finish, Yegyeol’s voice faltered, thin as if on the verge of sobbing.

“I was clumsy, spilled some… upset you that I didn’t swallow it all?” Haryang teased knowingly.

“What are you even saying!”

Yegyeol snapped his head up, only to meet Haryang’s gaze—then quickly ducked his eyes, cheeks burning red. The more flustered he looked, the more Haryang longed to tease him further.

I never once enjoyed such things as a boy…

When others poked fun at those they liked, delighting in their fluster, Haryang had always watched with indifference.

“Your release was thick. I showed you how to soothe yourself before, yet it seems you neglected your practice.”

As he said this, Haryang tugged Yegyeol’s ankle. Losing his balance, Yegyeol toppled backward, unable to resist, dragged easily toward him.

His robe fell askew, the loosened sash slipping free, exposing a rosy nipple between parted lapels.

“Not a reward—what you need is punishment.”

Haryang bent his head again. Yegyeol’s thighs flinched, bracing for another sucking, but instead Haryang descended lower.

Pressing his disciple’s thighs apart, he brushed teasingly across the perineum, then went still lower.

Spreading the firm cheeks, his gaze fell upon Yegyeol’s entrance.

It had been scarcely half a month since last used, yet the ring was tightly closed.

One might think forcing even a finger, let alone his cock, inside would be cruel. But Haryang knew well how that place yielded, how greedily it swallowed him whole.

Fortunate indeed.

Even as he had no intention of stopping, he let himself pretend this eased his guilt.

“I haven’t prepared you with oil…”

He muttered deliberately loud enough to hear. Yegyeol’s body flinched, legs twitching.

“Stay still.”

A firmer grip on his thighs stilled him. Meeting the gaze filled half with fear, half with anticipation, Haryang promised:

“I’ll wet you enough myself. Don’t worry.”

And with that, he pressed his mouth to Yegyeol’s cleft.

The slick, tender sensation made Yegyeol whimper.

Damn it, it feels so good I hate it.

As if to ease his taut body, Haryang kneaded his thighs gently. Yegyeol squeezed his eyes shut—just as the moist, probing heat brushed his opening.

“Ahh… Senior Brother…! Wha—what are you… doing!”

Words tumbled out unbidden, incoherent, pouring straight from his overwhelmed mind.

“No, don’t—ahhh! Not… there—!”

His tongue slid inside. Pleasure and shame flared, colliding like combatants.

If there were ever a sensation one could never grow used to, this was it.

Yegyeol struggled to hold back his breath, but the tingling bliss in his depths betrayed him.

“Hhhht! Hhhahhh…!”

The sucking drew his legs wider apart. Haryang, no longer needing to force them open, freed his hands to knead his ass, heightening his sensitivity.

The wet, obscene sounds filled Yegyeol’s head. The slippery sensation was vivid, unreal, as though it were all happening inside his mind.

“Just… just put it in. Please…” Yegyeol sobbed, begging.

Then Haryang’s voice resonated within his head:

[This Senior Brother would never hurt you, Yegyeol.]

Who uses Guiding Transmission for something like this…!

Hadn’t he said he wasn’t used to using martial force for such things? Yet now, he wielded it with seamless skill.

“Ahn, ahh—hhht!”

No full words, only fractured syllables left Yegyeol’s lips, etched with urgency and pleasure.

Haryang devoured every reaction, reveling in the raw, unguarded truth.

Though experience had lent Yegyeol some ease, even a brush of shame made him collapse quickly, a sight Haryang relished.

Once tightly sealed, his entrance now relaxed, coaxed open by relentless licking. It welcomed him eagerly, knowing well the one who had etched desire there.

So small, so narrow—but Haryang’s desire had already claimed it.

…This should be enough.

Ready to pull back, he paused.

He wanted more. He wanted to make Yegyeol writhe in rapture, to leave behind memories fiercer than those of the Black Ghost who had first taken him.

Pathetic.

Jealousy, even of his own other self—it was absurd.

Yet Haryang refused to let himself be compared. Yegyeol had once chosen the Black Ghost, clinging to morals over desire.

Never again.

Even if that Black Ghost had been himself, Haryang would not cede him. That first night had been a mistake.

Within him lurked an impatience he had never known, blind to his own clumsiness—never having reached for another man this way, he had not realized his inexperience.

“Hhhahhh—ahh, ahhh!”

Sweet cries spilled from Yegyeol’s lips.

“Put it in—please… Senior Brother…!”

Even amidst hiccuping sobs, a nasal whimper threaded through. His inner walls quivered, begging to be filled.

Slowly, Haryang raised his head.

“Yegyeol.”

At his low call, his disciple met his gaze.

His eyes, unhidden, were drenched in rapture. Even their frantic darting, helpless with confusion, was pitifully, achingly beautiful.

Haryang knew why.

Unhidden, unmasked, those eyes held only him. Flustered, bewildered, yet always laced with affection.

No hue in the world could surpass that sight.

And only now do I see it…

He had always been there, and Haryang had nearly lost him forever.

Pressing his tip to the loosened entrance, he stroked Yegyeol’s wet cheek.

Dark, ravenous lust and crystalline love—coexisting within him, impossibly.

“I… your Senior Brother… I love you.”

It had not been spoken to demand a reply.

“And I love you,” Yegyeol whispered.

Quivering like a newborn fawn, he wrapped his arms around Haryang’s shoulders.

“Please… give yourself to me, Senior Brother.”

The most joyous command in the world.