“Isri…I…don’t want to…” Ceshir’s voice was already very weak, and he no longer had the strength to push the person off him.
"Young Master, I love you."
"Young Master, I love you."
Isri's deep voice echoed in Ceshir's ears again and again, like a string about to break, expressing its last hopes.
Ultimately, it was the first time for both of them. The demon was only concerned with releasing his own desires and did not pay attention to the person beneath him for a moment.
“Isri…” Sehilton paused for a few seconds, then said, “I…hate you…”
Sehir's voice was so soft that it seemed as if it could be blown away with a breath, and even the last three words were not heard by Isri.
Seeing that the person beneath him had lost consciousness, Isri stopped what he was doing. This person, who was as thin as a sheet of paper, was now lying quietly beneath him, with not a single part of his body unharmed.
Islam seemed a little stunned for a moment, but more than that, he was excited.
The things on the ground were already dirty. Isri unlocked the chains on Sehir's ankles, carried him out of the cage, quickly washed him in the bathroom, put him back on the bed, and put the chains back on.
Isri sat down next to Sehir, who seemed to still be in pain. Isri gently rubbed Sehir's brow, leaned close to his ear, and spoke softly again.
"Sehir, I love you."
Sehir couldn't hear; Isri was speaking to himself.
—
It was the first time Ishri had experienced this feeling, and he was so excited that he couldn't sleep all night. But since it was his first time, his technique was as clumsy as a three-year-old's.
Sehir, who had not been cleaned at all, developed a high fever the very next day.
Cecil's eyes were half open, his throat was extremely dry, and even the slightest movement of his body caused him excruciating pain. His already fair face was now even paler, and there was not a trace of color in his lips.
After a while, Sehir realized that he was in bed. The cage in the room was gone, even the curtains that had been drawn were open, and the newspapers pasted on the windows were gone.
The light was so bright it hurt his eyes. Cecil squinted, but still turned his head to the window, not wanting to miss a single opportunity.
Sure enough, his eyesight was failing him. Sehir sighed and stared blankly out the window.
He and Isri had done something against the rules of the West Asian continent, and before he lost consciousness, he could feel his body becoming strange.
That subtle feeling was like being drunk; your head was spinning, yet you had to go along with the person in front of you.
Sehir gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, but he couldn't even move his body.
"Squeak~"
Suddenly, the door was pushed open from the outside, and a black figure slowly walked in, pushing a cart with a silver dining table.
The moment Cesil saw Isri, his body inexplicably seemed to be wound up, and he immediately moved back half an inch, his eyes filled with terror.
However, the movement was too large, and the whole body was pulled, causing an instant, intense pain throughout the body.
?
A note from the author:
Ahem... I hope it won't be locked. As for the car, ahem, I'll post it in the group chat on Saturday~
Chapter Ninety-Four
Sehir gasped, forcefully suppressing his voice.
Isri chuckled softly, slowly pushing the cart to Ceshir, his voice devoid of emotion.
"Is the young master afraid of me?"
Sehir propped himself up and slowly lay back down, keeping his mouth shut and not intending to answer Isri's question.
Isri did not take his anger out on Sehir's silence. Instead, he looked at Sehir, who was somewhat frightened by his gaze. Just as Sehir was about to look away, Isri leaned down and reached down with his hand.
Sehir's heart pounded like a drum against his skin, and he nervously closed his eyes just as Isri was about to get close.
Isri smiled and reached out a finger to brush the hair off Sehir's face, preparing to tuck it behind his ear.
But as soon as he touched her skin, Isri paused for a moment, and then immediately placed his hand on Ceshir's forehead.
"You have a fever?" Isri asked softly, his expression slightly unpleasant.
Why is it so hot?
"Did the young master wake up last night?" Isri asked, pinching Sehir's cheek.
Sehir looked aggrieved and ashamed, gritted his teeth and said, "Don't you know whether I'm awake or not?"
Isri paused for a moment, then released his grip on Ceshir's face.
"I'll go and prepare a fresh breakfast for the young master."
After saying that, he turned and went out the door, his steps a few paces faster than before. Cecil lay on the bed, constantly blowing outside air into his nostrils, his eyes dry and sore.
But now, once Sehir closes his eyes, the scenes from last night play out in his mind, and even the smallest movement is magnified infinitely in his mind.
Sehir tried to turn to the side, wanting to raise his hand to cover his ears, but just as he managed to turn over, in the next instant, Sehir's eyes widened.
There was nothing blocking my way behind me, and it seemed as if a warm liquid was flowing down between my legs. Suddenly, the last memory of last night rushed into my mind.
Sehir gripped the sheets tightly, his eyes filled with shame and indignation. His breathing became erratic, and as if his mind had suddenly tightened, his body trembled and he fainted.
When Isri came in after making breakfast again, he saw Sehir's hand hanging by the bedside, motionless.
Isri placed the coiled-up object back on the table, leaned down, and tried to lift Sesil from the trauma and put him down properly. Just a second after lifting him up, some liquid appeared between Sesil's already limp legs.
In an instant, Isri understood what was going on. His brow twitched slightly, and he pulled the person back into his arms and led them into the bathroom.
This time, Isri was relatively careful. He only put Sehir into the bathtub after the entire bathroom was filled with steam and the temperature had risen.
Stimulated by the hot water, Sesil's body flushed slightly. Isri knelt on one knee beside the bathtub and reached in to slowly clean Sesil's body.
Feeling the stimulation, Sehir frowned slightly and struggled to open his eyelids. When he saw Isri, he was like a landlubber who had fallen into the water, splashing around incessantly.
But he still had wounds on his body, and after moving a couple of times, the pain became unbearable. He turned to look at Isri, who was covered in water that he had poured on him.
Suddenly, Sehir's nerves tightened to the extreme. He huddled in a corner of the bathtub, staring wide-eyed at Isri, his face even paler than before.
“Young Master needs to wash himself properly, otherwise his fever will get worse,” Isri said, raising his head to Cesil, his hair slightly damp.
Sehir looked at Isri with trepidation. Seeing that Isri did not blame him, he opened his trembling lips and said, "I...I'll do it myself."
Isri hesitated for a moment, then stood up and looked at Cecil: "Then I'll wait outside for you, young master."
After saying that, he picked up the clothes from the rack and went outside.
——
Once Isri closed the door, Ceshir's eyes recovered from the terror, and he shrunk his entire body into the hot water.
Sesil could feel that if he exerted even the slightest force, something would flow out from behind him. Sesil's ears turned red, but he had to endure the shame and clean it up himself.
Despite the pain of her torn wounds and the shame she felt, Cecil gritted her teeth and made no sound as she slowly washed her body.
After a long and agonizing ordeal, Sesil hung on the edge of the bathtub as if he were dehydrated.
What a madman! He even hurt his own arm. Cecil looked at the bruises on his body, gritted his teeth, and prepared to get up and leave.
"ah!!!"
Sehir screamed and fell straight out of the bathtub, landing face down on the floor. Only then did he realize that not only was there excruciating pain in his back, but his legs were also so stiff that he couldn't move them.
Sehir propped himself up, trying to get up from the ground. Hearing the noise, Isri pushed the door open and walked towards Sehir.
Sahir, whose nerves were still on edge, suddenly snapped when he saw Isri. He shuffled backward, repeating in a trembling voice.
"No...no...don't come any closer."
Sehir closed his eyes, raised his arm to shield his eyes, and trembled violently.
The sounds were amplified infinitely in the empty bathroom; the sound of Isri's footsteps hitting the floor and the impact of his shoes exploded in Cecil's mind.
"Don'e any closer, don't come any closer." Cecil kept repeating these three words, his back against the cold bathtub.
Islam squinted, took off his coat, walked to Sehir, and squatted down.
"Young master, this will worsen your condition."
He tried to put his coat over Cecil, but the neurotic Cecil ignored him and slapped Isri’s hand away.
Islam paused for a moment, then bent down and lifted Sehir up by his knees, his tone seemingly carrying a hint of threat.
"Is the young master still disobedient?"
Suddenly, the person in his arms seemed to be sealed away, shrinking into Isri's embrace and remaining motionless.
But the trembling became more and more violent, and after a few heavy breaths, he fainted again.
Islam laid the man back on the bed, soaked a towel and draped it over his forehead, finally easing the furrowed brow.
After a moment of quiet, Isri moved a stool over and sat down in front of Ceshir's bed, quietly watching the man whose breathing was so faint it was almost imperceptible.
Those phoenix eyes, with their amber-gold pupils, concealed all the demon's emotions, yet remained unnoticed by anyone, not even himself.
The emotion in those eyes was both gentle and aloof.
Chapter Ninety-Five
Looking at the bruises on Sehir's body, Isri realized that he had gone too far. After the initial excitement, all that remained was regret.
Was he moving too fast? Sehir had never experienced anything like this before, and he definitely couldn't handle it all at once.
Isri rested his head on his hands, his expression complicated, as he recalled how Cecil had repeatedly begged him not to come closer in the bathroom.
Those eyes, looking at me, were filled with fear and dread; even the last trace of hatred was suppressed.
But if he didn't do it this way, Sesil would never know.
He wanted to keep Sehir; he wanted to keep Sehir by his side forever.
Isri raised his hand and stroked Ceshir's cheek gently, his voice soft.
"Young Master, what kind of feelings do you have for me?"
_
When he first met Cecil, he felt it was destiny.