HDCLSSRS Ch 40(Mild NSFW)

Chapter 40 A Taste of Frustration (2)

 

(Mild NSFW)

 

Their foreheads touched. Baek Ryeoil closed his eyes, dense lashes casting a shadow over his tense brow.

“…It feels like I’m being devoured.”

Even then, his hips didn’t stop. By now, there was rhythm to his movement, and with every thrust came the wet, squelching sound of slick friction.

The sweetness of that first taste had numbed all his restraint and reason.

Underneath him, Seong Muyeon felt like he was dying.

“Ugh, please. Just for a moment… stop… ah!”

Seong Muyeon desperately pushed him away, twisting his body to escape. After struggling for a while, he finally managed to slip out from Baek Ryeoil’s hold, crawling upward. The hard weapon that had filled him and caused such pain slid out.

This isn’t right!

If he had to die by being impaled by Baek Ryeoil, he’d rather sit up and choose a dignified death instead.

But before he could fully escape Baek Ryeoil’s shadow, a large, hot hand gripped his waist. He was dragged downward again, and Baek Ryeoil’s chest pressed against his back.

“Wait!”

Seong Muyeon turned around in a panic, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

“Haa…”

He saw that Baek Ryeoil’s eyes, as he gripped his waist, had lost their focus.

He gripped the waist of the prone Seong Muyeon and thrust deeply in one motion.

“Aaagh!”

As if on instinct, he slammed into Seong Muyeon’s inner depths, biting down on the pale skin.

In Baek Ryeoil’s mind, bangjungsul and everything else had vanished. All that remained was a beast-like desire to continue savoring this ecstasy.

“Hey, you bastard! I said stop!”

Seong Muyeon’s screams never made it beyond the walls.

When the warm rays of dawn pierced through his eyelids, Baek Ryeoil opened his eyes. Realizing he had overslept, he shot up in alarm, only to stop as he felt a heavy weight on his arm.

A pale, naked body lay with its back to him, using his arm as a pillow. Long, loose hair spilled over the edge of the bed, making the white skin stand out even more. On the back were visible red marks from chafing.

Baek Ryeoil lay back down and recalled the previous night.

Seong Muyeon’s deteriorating condition had forced them to perform bangjungsul. That was why he had overslept.

It wasn’t bad.

A pleased smile curled on his lips.

It wasn’t just not bad.

The book had written of the act as if it were sacred and reverent. In reality, it was entirely different. From the midpoint on, his mind had practically gone blank, but the sensation remained vivid.

Especially that feeling of something clenching in my hand.

Baek Ryeoil flexed one hand into the air.

The sensation was still fresh. When he pinned down those bucking hips, how the flesh twitched in his grip.

The moans, thick with suppressed sobs, that slipped out despite being held back…

The hands that scratched down his spine…

It was all too stimulating. Like an endless barrage of fireworks bursting in every color.

The Seong Muyeon who’d looked deathly pale last night now had color in his face.

Baek Ryeoil, without thinking, reached out and brushed his fingers against that white skin. The body flinched, waking from slumber.

Seong Muyeon slowly turned over. His half-lidded eyes were heavy with sleep, and his gaze naturally settled on Baek Ryeoil lying beside him.

“You’re awake?”

Baek Ryeoil asked lazily. His fingertips grazed the nape of Seong Muyeon’s neck, gently tracing the marks he had left the night before like feathers.

The echoes of their intense night still lingered. Baek Ryeoil assumed Seong Muyeon felt the same, but…

Seong Muyeon’s eyes flew open, his face twisting into an expression of pure contempt.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re asking what’s wrong… right now…?”

Seong Muyeon slowly sat up. His long hair spilled over his face. His gaze shifted to one side—Baek Ryeoil’s sword was leaning against the wall.

“Why the sword…?”

Staggering toward the wall, Seong Muyeon gripped the sword.

“To kill you…”

“Kill who?”

“Who do you think?! You, Baek Ryeoil!”

Seong Muyeon charged at him, sword raised. But before he could reach the bed, he collapsed like a puppet with cut strings. The sword slipped from his grasp and clattered near the bed.

“W-What the hell? What’s wrong with you?”

Still lying face down, Seong Muyeon didn’t even try to get up. He muttered darkly.

“I was a fool to believe you were a Taoist priest. How could you do this…”

Groaning, he tried to rise. His eyes, sharp as blades, darted around in search of the sword. Baek Ryeoil hurriedly kicked it under the bed.

“H-Hey… Calm down.”

Seong Muyeon snarled like a wild animal.

“Just try coming closer! I’ll kill myself right here!”

“Not kill me?”

“If I could, I gladly would! But I can’t, so what else can I do!”

Seong Muyeon screamed, then fell back again as if his strength had left him. Staring blankly at the ceiling, his eyes began to glisten with tears.

“…How many times did I tell you to stop?”

Baek Ryeoil flinched and couldn’t take a single step closer.

“D-Did you?”

Last night, no matter how much he had begged, Baek Ryeoil hadn’t listened. Or rather, it was as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Sure, it was his first time, but there were limits. To violate someone like that?

“…Thank you for helping me. Yes… truly.”

They say the way you feel going to the bathroom is different from the way you feel coming out—and that saying couldn’t be more accurate.

Last night, Seong Muyeon had willingly accepted Baek Ryeoil’s presence. At the critical moment when his illness had worsened, someone had reached out to help without hesitation, and he had been touched.

But that lifeline had been rotten.

No—strong enough to climb, but laced with poison on the surface, scraping his hands bloody.

Damn it.

He had asked for help himself—so why did it feel so wretched? A proper person would be grateful for having their life saved.

But Baek Ryeoil should have known better too. He shouldn’t have used a suffering person to satisfy his own desire under the pretense of treatment. It was like saving a drowning man only to slap him across the face for no reason.

To make matters worse, there was something that unsettled him even more.

His body had recovered, damn it!

He felt lighter. Clearly, the body that had been on the verge of collapse the night before had regained some stability. Muscle soreness was another issue, but—

Seong Muyeon thought he understood the principle. It seemed similar to a technique called beolmo-sesu, a great method where one injects internal energy into another’s body to flush out toxic energy. But that technique couldn’t be performed recklessly. If one’s compatibility was off, it could warp the energy pathways and worsen the condition.

Sexual union was a way of exchanging energy more gently—sharing breath and touch without direct energy transfer, thus reducing risk. It wasn’t much, but it had a similar effect.

If there’d been no benefit, I would’ve ripped his hair out…

Considering the pain he had endured last night, the fact that there was any benefit at all felt like an insult.

To feel this light and refreshed?

That just made it worse.

Tears streamed down from Seong Muyeon’s eyes. Seeing this, Baek Ryeoil felt a twinge of guilt and watched him anxiously.

“D-Did it hurt that much?”

“If you’re curious, there’s a way to find out. Experience it yourself.”

Baek Ryeoil shut his mouth.

He, too, seemed to realize his fault. Like a dog needing to pee, he whimpered and just watched for signs.

“I mean… Yeah, it was definitely my fault, but still, I kinda feel like it’s a little unfair.”

Seong Muyeon scoffed.

“What’s unfair? Let’s hear it. If it’s nonsense, I’ll summon the Ma Jincheon temple and report everything you did. Straight to the Hall of Confession.”

“I mean, uh… It’s just that…”

Baek Ryeoil shrank his shoulders and drooped his brows like a scolded child.

“To be honest, it just felt so good I lost control…”

“…What did you say?”

Seong Muyeon couldn’t believe his ears.

“You were the one being lewd. Why were you moaning like that during a sacred cultivation ritual?”

Seong Muyeon’s expression went completely blank.

Who did this man think he was blaming?

He had overlooked the fact that Baek Ryeoil was a virgin. He hadn’t considered the possibility that even the slightest stimulation could send him rampaging like a hormonal teenager.

Fine…

Seong Muyeon decided to pity him.

“Well, lucky for you. There won’t be a next time.”

He swore never to repeat the mistake of last night. This time, it had been unavoidable due to Jang Hansu suddenly entering a state of qi deviation—but how often could something like that possibly happen? Ha ha!

With a tone that sounded as if he had attained enlightenment, Seong Muyeon spoke, and Baek Ryeoil asked hesitantly:

“B-But… was I that bad?”

Seong Muyeon answered without a pause.

“Yes.”

“How bad?”

“So bad I wouldn’t even want to dream about it after dying and being reborn.”

“…”

Baek Ryeoil’s eye twitched.