TSBIRBV Ch 171(NSFW)

Chapter 171 Heshi’s Bi (7)(NSFW)

Though his strength was spent, Yegyeol clung tight, unwilling to part. Embracing him firmly, Haryang pushed inside, slow and steady.

The heavy, deliberate filling was not unfamiliar, yet it still felt strange.

In the form of the Black Ghost, Haryang had always used Bone-Refining Arts. At times, that even made him swell inside, but the tension of first entry now was unlike the boneless languor after countless climaxes.

It’s not unbearable.

Yegyeol convinced himself. After all, Guiding was taking place at the same time.

“Hhhhhh…”

A choked moan slipped free as he spread his legs, letting Haryang sink deeper.

Though his disciple’s body trembled, overwhelmed, he only held tighter, refusing to retreat. The sight scrambled Haryang’s thoughts into chaos.

“You must breathe… that’s it.”

The Senior Brother stroked his shoulder, kissing it lightly. That tender touch, meant to ease him, made Yegyeol gaze at him with wet eyes.

Sweat beaded at Haryang’s temple, unusual for a martial master whose body rarely betrayed change. He never felt heat or cold; even the long trek to Hangzhou had not wrung a single drop of sweat.

Now it proved how much he was holding back. He could easily ram through with force, but for fear of Yegyeol’s pain, he endured, dripping sweat.

To see such a composed, gentle man contort his face on his account—Yegyeol felt a fierce thrill.

“Senior Brother… Senior Brother…”

Catching his breath, Yegyeol strove to accept the cock burrowing into him. Soon, the glans slipped in fully.

“Hhhngh, hhhh…”

He bit back his cries, thinking that if he wept or whimpered, Haryang might pull away.

But the shaft pushed deeper, parting his inner walls as if devouring him, swallowing the man whole.

So this was what it meant to be exhausted from penetration alone.

Every nerve screamed. The weight of Haryang pressing in was crushing. His waist quivered, arms clung rigidly around his neck. Tears streamed unchecked.

Haryang kissed his brow in countless soft touches, caressing him everywhere.

Then, halfway in, he suddenly withdrew.

“Senior Brother…?”

The cock slid out, leaving only the tip pressed to his entrance. His inner walls, stretched and parted, closed tight again.

He had been so close to taking it all, and the loss tore a cry from his throat.

“Ahhht!”

Haryang rammed in with one thrust, burying himself exactly to the place he had stretched. No more, no less.

The channel, just relaxed, clenched helplessly at the sudden invasion.

Yegyeol felt torn in half.

Through tear-stained eyes, he stared at Haryang. The glimpse of his tongue behind parted lips was lewd.

“You begged for it, so you must take it well.”

The words had scarcely left his mouth before Haryang moved, pulling back and slamming deeper, harder.

Hot, rigid flesh carved its path, battering the depths not yet loosened. Each time he drove in, Yegyeol’s throat caught with a sob.

He felt like wood being hammered, his head rattling with every thrust.

Senior Brother… Senior Brother…

Even voiceless, his mouth forming only silent pleas, Haryang seemed to know. His hands caressed gently, though his hips were merciless.

His vision flashed, his reason burned white. From his lower abdomen, pleasure surged upward, tingling through his whole body.

“Hhhnngh, ahhh—hhht!”

Soon he realized—he was entirely filled.

“You feel it?”

Haryang’s palm pressed lightly on his lower belly, and Yegyeol cried out.

“Ah! Senior Brother! That… ahhht!”

Haryang seized one of his hands, pressing it to his belly beneath his own. Caught in that tender shackle, Yegyeol panicked each time he felt the bulge rise and fall with every thrust.

It was as though something inside his abdomen was swelling outward, threatening to tear through. Fear tangled with sin, desire, and the fact that this man was Je Haryang—his Senior Brother—violating him. His thoughts dissolved into chaos.

“How lovely you are…”

Haryang licked the drool slipping from Yegyeol’s lips, then kissed him greedily, as if stealing even his last sigh.

Though his movements were far from gentle, Yegyeol did not resist the slow caress against his wet cheek.

“To weep so beautifully.”

Entranced, Haryang devoured him with his eyes, as though etching the sight deep in memory.

“Do you know, Yegyeol?”

“Ahh… hhhhht!”

As he thrust deeper, he whispered:

“Your body quivers so wantonly… yet your eyes are clear brown.”

Such an innocent hue, too pure for the wantonness with which he devoured him.

When Yegyeol yielded to the Black Ghost, Haryang had felt only jealousy. Now, what he felt was regret.

That he had once hidden behind a mask, instead of baring himself, seemed unforgivable.

“So fair… so beautiful.”

He was not a peerless beauty, nor seductive, nor skilled in bed.

Yet Haryang could never free himself from him.

“Senior Brother… Senior Brother.”

Yegyeol cried out desperately, his insides ravaged, his abdomen aching with each pounding thrust.

Biting his lips lightly, Haryang demanded:

“Call my name.”

“H-how can I… call my Senior Brother’s name—?”

Even lost in pleasure, Yegyeol’s eyes widened in shock.

“Ah, I’ve erred.”

Smiling languidly, Haryang clicked his tongue, gripping his cock.

Though rough, Yegyeol’s arousal only dripped precum into his hand.

“Senior Brother…!”

“So, you’re a boy who’s aroused at being defiled by your Senior Brother.”

Hot breath tickled his nape.

“I knew not, and made such a cruel demand. Forgive me.”

As he stroked him, thrusting again, stars burst in Yegyeol’s vision.

His body was rocked mercilessly, tossed with each wave, hands trembling as they clung.

Then a name he had never dared whisper, even in solitude, fell from his lips.

“Ha… Haryang.”

Haryang savored it, eyes closing a moment before opening.

“Again.”

“Haryang, Haryang… hhhht, Haryang…”

Yegyeol pressed kisses to his chest, shoulder, arm, pleading breathlessly.

“More.”

The air thickened with lust.

“Haryanggg… hhhht! Senior Brother… Haryang… Haryang…!”

Each thrust mingled wet, obscene sounds with ragged breaths.

Yegyeol clung, crying his name again and again.

He was no Hong Gil-dong, lamenting that he could not call his father “father” or brother “brother.” This impudent esper had only ever schemed to devour his Senior Brother—calling his name was no hardship.

“What am I to you?”

Haryang pressed, not giving him even a moment to breathe. He spread him wide, marked his thighs red, pillaged the depths even the Black Ghost had not touched.

“Say it.”

As he buried himself, he bit at his neck.

Yegyeol’s face, hazy with bliss, was unbearably wanton. Looking up with tear-drenched eyes, he panted:

“Senior Brother…?”

“No. Long ago, I lost the right to that title.”

That tie was severed. It was now a past so distant it felt like a former life. No longer could they be bound as brothers under Kunlun’s name.

What he had ruined himself, he must now rebuild.

“My… my beloved. You are my beloved.”

Yegyeol instinctively grasped what he wanted and whispered it.

“Then what should you call me?”

So it’s not just my name he wants…

Confused, Yegyeol rolled his eyes, some word hovering just out of reach.

Then Haryang’s cock ground upward against his belly. A whimper escaped him, pale as snow.

A wordless urging.

“Senior Brother, hhhht… there, ahhht—”

His loosened insides throbbed. He was filled to the brim, leaving no room for even a drop of his own arousal to spill free.

Haryang plundered him mercilessly, thrusting harder each time he seemed to adjust, determined to wring sobs from him.

It felt as though he would never be released unless he gave the answer.

His legs trembled around Haryang’s waist, his arms slipping weakly. Then—suddenly—he remembered a conversation once had with Namgung Un.

“…Ga… Gaga?”