As she spoke, the Queen quickened her pace, and as she closed the door behind her, Isri's expression turned to zero.
Turning around, I climbed the stairs step by step. So much time has passed, why am I still so disobedient?
Islam pushed open the door. The room was pitch black. He walked straight to the cage, opened it, and threw the key aside.
"Young Master, do you still want to escape?" Isri's voice cut through the air and reached Cecil's ears.
Sehir, unwilling to accept defeat, gritted his teeth, looked up, and almost shouted, "What's the point of imprisoning me like this! Isri! What do you want!"
Isri remained expressionless, kneeling beside Sehir and untying the chains binding him from behind.
Sehir was taken aback. Then, Isri reached his fingers under the tie and, with a little force, removed it directly from his head.
"I want you, young master."
The heat from Islam was terrifying.
Chapter Ninety-Two
Isri's eyes gradually became bloodshot. Ceshir clenched his fingers, then slapped Isri's hand away, his eyes wide and mouth agape as he shouted.
"Get out of here! You don't deserve it!"
After shouting, Sehir dared not meet Isri's gaze again, his breath coming in gasps.
Spending too much time in the dark, Cecil's temper began to flare up. He gritted his teeth, trying not to tremble.
Islam paused, his eyes becoming even more bloodshot. He pulled the chain around his ankle and dragged Cecil to the ground.
Isri leaned over and pinned the man down, grabbing Sehir's neck with one hand and forcing the man beneath him to look at him.
"Young Master, do I really hate you that much?"
Isri’s voice was like that of an ancient bell, deep and hoarse, the suppressed desires within him clamoring incessantly.
Sehir was in excruciating pain from being pinched, but with an inexplicable stubbornness, he closed his eyes and decided to fight back against Isri.
Seeing Ceshir's reaction, Isri laughed instead of getting angry. In the darkness, a chilling voice reached Ceshir's ears.
"Young Master, you really know how to pique my interest. In that case, why not make Young Master completely despise me?"
Sehir didn't understand what Isri meant for a moment, and was stunned for half a second. Then Isri ruthlessly reached his hand inside his clothes.
Cesil was startled and quickly opened his eyes, glaring at Isri with a tremor in his voice, his anger barely contained.
"Isri! What are you doing!"
Isri leaned down and gently bit the slightly raised collarbone of the person beneath him. Startled by the sudden movement, Sehir trembled and tried to break free from Isri's hold.
The more he struggled, the tighter Isri held him. His wrist was gripped so tightly by Isri that Cesil felt like his skin was about to be rubbed raw.
"Isri! You madman! Let me go!" Sehir stared at Isri, his body bobbing up and down as he gasped for breath.
Isri loosened his teeth, and two rows of red marks were instantly left on his fair skin, making him look extremely alluring.
"Young Master himself said I'm crazy. How can a crazy person be obedient?"
As he spoke, Isri pulled his clothes up from behind his knees, leaving Sehir, who wasn't wearing underwear to begin with, completely naked in front of Isri.
Instantly, a blush rose on Cecil's face, filled with shame and anger, and her struggles became even more pronounced.
The demon tasted the long-awaited delicacy for the first time, and his movements were unconsciously a little rough. His cold fingers pinched her slender waist, and when he removed them, a red mark appeared.
He knew Sesil had delicate skin, but he never expected Sesil to behave this way when he was emotionally agitated.
Now, any part of Sesil's body would turn red with the slightest touch.
Isri didn't care about any of that; with delicious food right in front of him, he wasn't going to savor it slowly.
“Madman! Bastard! Let me go!” Cecil shouted, his voice urgent and his eyes filled with terror.
But at this point, such shouting only adds unnecessary fun to the devil in his Casanova days.
It seemed that at this moment, Isri was even less in a hurry. He slowly bent down and kissed that slightly trembling body, finally leaving a mark that belonged only to him.
Those delicate collarbones were the first place the devil occupied, as if they had been carefully polished with warm water, their lines were unbelievably perfect.
The youthful appearance hadn't completely faded; the collarbone, still barely showing its initial shape, was soon covered in a deep red.
Sehir was terrified; his body trembled violently, tears streamed down his face and down to his ears, and his breathing became increasingly labored.
Isri's hands continued to roam over Sehir's body, the icy touch constantly stimulating Sehir's nerves.
Her slender waist barely touched the ground, allowing Isri to easily reach under and wrap his arm around her with one hand.
Cesil's waist was already sensitive, and with Isri touching it like that, his resistance became even more pronounced, and his legs, which were restrained beneath him, began to kick wildly.
Isri, who had intended to take it slow, could not bear Sehir's resistance in the end. The next time Sehir raised his leg, Isri grabbed Sehir's knee and pressed it down.
The boy's body was already slightly more flexible, and with Isri's sudden exertion, Cesil's knee actually struck his shoulder.
"Ahhh! Ugh!" Cecil couldn't help but cry out in pain, and the gasps he exhaled became more and more frequent.
Looking at Cecil's eyes filled with tears, it was like sinking a sapphire into the sea, incredibly alluring.
Islam exhaled and leaned down to kiss those pale lips.
The soft and delicate texture instantly captivated Isri, like a strangely flavored gummy candy. As you delve deeper, the taste seems to change.
Sehir was so frightened that tears streamed down his face. It was the first time Sehir had been treated like this, and he didn't even know how to breathe. Within seconds, his face turned bright red from holding his breath.
Seeing this, Isri carefully tasted it before reluctantly moving it away.
Sehir turned his head to the side, breathing heavily, as if he wanted to fill his lungs with air.
Islam squinted, and his hand, which was pressing down on his leg, slowly reached out in the direction he wanted to go.
Immediately, Cecil, like a frightened bird, shouted out a voice devoid of any threat: "I am the Holy Son of the West Asian Continent!"
Isri paused, looking at Ceshir's determined eyes. He was about to tell him that Ceshir was no longer the Holy Son, but suddenly, he seemed to remember a better decision.
He wanted to make this disobedient little bird completely obedient.
Isri chuckled lightly: "Holy Son? If even the young master doesn't believe in God, why should I? Besides, you are my one and only God. I think my God would help his believers if I did this to my God."
"Ugh~!"
Sehir frowned deeply, hearing the faint sounds of clothes rustling and Isri's panting.
Sehir squinted, his eyes filled with mist, and looked at Isri, who was tugging at his tie, his voice trembling uncontrollably.
"I... refuse, I don't want to... let me go... I don't want to..."
Amidst the gasps and sobs, Cecil looked utterly pitiful. Isri paused his actions, leaned down, and breathed hot air into his ear.
“My dear young master, I refuse your offer.”
"Ah!" Cecil cried out, biting his lip hard, his face pale. "It hurts..."
?
A note from the author:
Fun fact:
The Son must keep his body clean and must not have any thoughts about sexual intercourse.
Chapter Ninety-Three
Sehir bit his lip, staring at Isri in disbelief, a voice choked with shame.
Islam's lips curled up, like vines entwining a flower path, slowly probing deeper, causing the flower stamens to tremble.
"Young Master, I like you, I love you."
Isri’s voice rang in Ceshir’s ears again. Ceshir closed his eyes, no longer having the strength to struggle. His mouth opened and closed, uttering one word at a time.
“Isri, let me go... I don’t want to....”
For some reason, after Ceshir said that, Isri actually stopped. Just when Ceshir thought Isri wouldn't continue, he opened his mouth, wanting to breathe a sigh of relief.
"Ugh! Ah!"
Suddenly, a suppressed scream escaped from her mouth. The untouched place was suddenly stretched open as if it were being torn apart.
Cesil's cry instantly triggered Isri's nerves, and the last bit of tenderness in his eyes was immediately replaced by desire.
Isri pulled his hand out from under Ceshir and immediately bent down. Isri was already stronger than Ceshir, and with the added weight, Ceshir's resistance was like a disobedient child.
"Ah...! Ugh!" Before he could react, Cecil let out another scream.
Immediately afterward, Isri gave Sesil no time to react and stepped forward. The intense stimulation and nerve-wracking pain caused Sesil to be unable to suppress his voice, which came out intermittently from his throat.
The pitiful yet alluring voice kept tearing at the last line of defense in Isri's mind, until finally he simply let go of Ceshir's hand.
As soon as he let go, Cecil went berserk and tried to push Isri off him, even scratching bloody marks on Isri's back through his shirt.
“You madman! Let go of me! You bastard!” Ceshir shouted, pushing Isri away with both hands.
Now he was facing the demon before him in an extremely shameful manner, the very man who had been his servant since childhood.
Her slender legs were violently spread apart and pressed down to receive pleasure. Cecil never expected that the person was actually Isri.
He knew that Isri was crazy, but this kind of Isri was too unfamiliar to him; he didn't know such a madman.
“Bastard! Ah! No! I don’t want to… I command… um…” Cecil gasped, his breath coming in short gasps.
"An order?" Isri's breath was unnaturally hot. "Does the young master still have the mood to give me orders?"
"Ah! Cough cough cough!"
Suddenly, Isri exerted force, and Sehir, trying to control himself, coughed incessantly, his eyes red as if they were congested with blood.
“Young Master, I love you,” Isri said, his mouth agape.
—
In the dimly lit room, inside a golden cage, a goose feather blanket was spread on the floor, and copper wire roses were scattered around. The demon imprisoned his food beneath him, savoring it again and again.
This thing that she had longed for for so long finally belonged to her. The white goose feather blanket seemed to be stained with blood, and her fair body gradually became disheveled.
At first, there were screams of agony, but later they seemed to change. The suppressed coquettishness and the gradually reddening neck all indicated that this body was experiencing something unprecedented.
The chains locking his ankles were still clanging, and it seemed that only in the clanging of the chains could one know that his body was still resisting.