HDCLSSRS Ch 94(NSFW)

Chapter 94 The End of Denial (3)(NSFW)

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“Gasp—Young Master Seong Muyeon, what happened to your face! Are you unwell?”

Early morning. Seong Muyeon peeked his gaunt face through the slightly open door. Kang Ung, passing by in the hallway, nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight. Dark shadows ringed his eyes, and his hair hung in a disheveled mess.

Seong Muyeon waved him off weakly.

“I couldn’t sleep… It’s nothing, Kang Dojang³, please just go about your business…”

Kang Ung still looked worried, but since the person in question insisted he was fine, he couldn’t press further. He trudged toward the training hall, glancing back repeatedly. It was dawn, the time when every disciple performed basic drills.

‘…He’s not here, right?’

Only after carefully checking his surroundings and confirming Baek Ryeoil wasn’t around did Seong Muyeon finally step outside. If nothing else, Baek Ryeoil always showed up for morning drills, so he must have already left.

Lately, every time their eyes met, Baek Ryeoil would drag him off somewhere secluded, and Seong Muyeon was at his wit’s end.

The incident where he had briefly lost his sight still haunted him, so he had agreed when Baek Ryeoil suggested preventing any recurrence beforehand.

At first, he had agreed willingly.

‘But there’s a limit to everything! Isn’t this going way, way too far?’

Yet it continued. In Baek Ryeoil’s quarters while Kang Ung was away for joint training; in the bath late at night; in the depths of the silent forest… even when nothing more would come out and only clear fluid leaked, Baek Ryeoil wouldn’t stop.

And since it came with the noble pretext of alleviating his illness, there was simply no stopping Baek Ryeoil—especially someone who never listened to others in the first place.

Seong Muyeon snuck out quietly before Baek Ryeoil could return.

His destination was the library pavilion of Mount Hua, where ancient texts were kept. Though it was pointless since he would soon meet Yakseon(Herbal Sage)⁴ anyway, at this rate he would be sucked dry and die of exhaustion, so he grasped at straws hoping to find something.

The pavilion, rarely visited, was curiously spotless, not a speck of dust in sight.

Who knew how long he’d spent rummaging through old tomes in vain? Suddenly, strong hands seized his waist.

“Ugh!”

The book in Seong Muyeon’s hands slipped and clattered to the floor.

Baek Ryeoil, somehow returned early from training, shoved him into a corner of the library. How he’d found him here was anyone’s guess—uncanny as a ghost.

“What were you doing here?”

It wasn’t a question expecting an answer. Baek Ryeoil whispered low in his ear, grinding his hips boldly against Seong Muyeon’s groin.

Cold sweat broke out over Seong Muyeon’s back.

“N-Not again? Here? Are you insane?”

“No one’s coming.”

“That’s not the point—ugh…”

He rubbed his already hardened length slowly over Seong Muyeon’s dangling shaft.

The truly maddening part for Seong Muyeon was elsewhere: after so many days of coupling, his body reacted automatically now. The overused entrance twitched, and slick clear fluid dampened the space between his thighs.

At this point, he was practically reconditioned.

Catching on to his reaction, Baek Ryeoil smirked and hoisted him onto a nearby bookshelf. Their hips met more closely, the friction intensifying.

“You like it too.”

His body responded too honestly for him to deny it.

As Baek Ryeoil loosened his belt, panic surged in Seong Muyeon, and he shoved at the man’s chest.

“N-Not here! Someone could come any minute! Over my dead body!”

“No one’s coming, I told you.”

“I came, didn’t I?”

“When I got punished once, I stayed here for a week—no one ever came. Don’t worry.”

Some boast, that.

Baek Ryeoil brushed his lips lightly over Seong Muyeon’s earlobe like a feather.

“Please… I really can’t take this anymore. Have mercy.”

“You’re worn out from just this much? Hang in there a little longer.”

Speaking in a soft, coaxing tone as if soothing a child, Baek Ryeoil gently persuaded him. In the meantime, Seong Muyeon’s trousers had been pulled down to his thighs, and Baek Ryeoil pressed his rigid erection against him.

“Hhhk…”

The hole, thoroughly used until dawn, remained pliant and wet, allowing Baek Ryeoil to slip inside with little resistance. The moist heat clung greedily to him.

“Haa…”

Baek Ryeoil let out a satisfied sigh, withdrawing slightly before thrusting in again. Both men, long accustomed to each other by now, were quickly engulfed in the heat.

“Nngh… hhhk…”

To Seong Muyeon, it struck like heaven and earth turning upside down each time. Never had he imagined he would one day spread his legs this wide, panting with pleasure, willingly taking this man without resistance.

With every round, his body changed more and more, disregarding his will. Each time the bulbous head brushed a certain spot inside, a dizzying ecstasy threatened to blank out his mind.

Whenever worry surfaced—What if I get attached?—sharp waves of pleasure would sweep his thoughts away. Truth be told, Seong Muyeon’s life hadn’t held much enjoyment; their animalistic couplings had become as thrilling for him as they were for Baek Ryeoil, who’d spent his life in ascetic training.

They didn’t even remove their clothes—only bared the necessary parts—and continued their slow, illicit act in silence. Seong Muyeon buried his face in Baek Ryeoil’s chest, suppressing every breath lest someone pass by and hear. But each wet stroke sent irresistible jolts up his spine, forcing involuntary moans past clenched teeth.

Baek Ryeoil savored the moment, thrusting painfully slow. The obscene sensation of the veined length sliding in and out was vivid, almost unbearable.

Just as they were fully immersed in each other’s sensations—

The library doors creaked open in the distance, followed by voices.

“How are we supposed to find one book in this huge place?”

“We have to; Master ordered it.”

Seong Muyeon froze like lightning-struck. Jolted from the pleasure, he hissed softly at Baek Ryeoil.

“You said no one comes here!”

Even Baek Ryeoil faltered, lowering his voice as he stilled his hips.

“I wasn’t lying. No one does come here.”

Of all times, why today?

Only then did Seong Muyeon realize the state they were in—lower bodies drenched with fluids, slick with sweat. Luckily, Baek Ryeoil’s long over-robe concealed them; from behind, their mess wouldn’t be visible.

“Move!”

Seong Muyeon tried to shove him away, but Baek Ryeoil gripped his waist tightly, refusing to let go. Instead, his eyes gleamed mischievously, and he thrust even deeper.

“Ah—!”

Seong Muyeon’s legs clamped reflexively around his waist, squeezing down on the invading shaft. Baek Ryeoil himself let out a low moan at the tightness.

“Wh-What are you doing! Get off me!”

“Shh… Quiet…”

Breath ragged, more aroused than ever, Baek Ryeoil’s gaze flickered with madness. Seong Muyeon shuddered—then gasped as Baek Ryeoil withdrew only to slam back in harder.

“Uhhp…!”

“Don’t make a sound…”

Pressing Seong Muyeon’s head into his chest, Baek Ryeoil resumed merciless thrusts.

Squish, squish.

What good was silence? The wet friction between them filled the air with obscene noises.

Seong Muyeon grit his teeth. He knew well—once Baek Ryeoil set his mind on something, nothing could stop him. No matter how much he pushed, the man wouldn’t budge; better to match his rhythm than fight…

‘…Like hell I will! This crazy bastard!’

Seong Muyeon bit down hard on his shoulder.

“Are you sure the book’s here?”

“Think so? He said it should be around this section…”

The intruders’ voices drew closer. Seong Muyeon’s struggle grew more frantic—until Baek Ryeoil finally muttered in reluctant confession:

“It’s fine. I set up a gimak⁵—no sound’s getting out.”

“…What?”

“Gimak. A barrier that blocks sound from leaking out. If I modify it, I can even use it to send my voice directly to specific people—like transmission arts⁶.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?!”

Seong Muyeon snapped. Relieved by the sound barrier, he’d shouted instinctively—then immediately checked himself, glancing nervously toward the bookshelf where the voices lingered.

“Do you think I was asking because I didn’t know? Then does that mean… back at Chujeongjae, in the storage, at the pond too—you had barriers up all along?”

Seong Muyeon ground his teeth. How many times had he agonized over someone overhearing them? And all this time, Baek Ryeoil—shameless as if his face were plated in black iron—had known there was no risk. It wasn’t about his so-called upright character at all.

“You conniving—mmph!”

Before he could finish, Baek Ryeoil sealed his lips with a kiss, stopping him from tearing his hair out.

³ Dojang (도장): Title meaning “head/master of the training hall,” often used as a nickname or respectful address in martial sects.

⁴ Yakseon (약선): Likely refers to a skilled healer or physician figure within wuxia/xianxia contexts; name/title can imply “Medicine/Herbal Sage.”

⁵ Gimak (기막): A martial arts/cultivation technique creating a barrier that blocks sound from escaping an area.

⁶ Transmission arts (전음술): Technique allowing voice to be sent directly to specific individuals without others hearing.