The Villainous Male Supporting Character Courts Death Every Day : Chapter 16: The Holy Crown

Milo lifted his foot and gently pushed the man away with his delicate foot. He sat up, his small hand wiping across his flushed face a few times to clear away the damp sweat, then picked up the water flask and drank deeply in big gulps.

His small Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his snow-white neck, and excess droplets spilled from his pink lips. Kyle’s eyes darkened, and he silently stood up to straighten his clothes.

Milo set the flask down with a heavy clunk, panting for a moment, then looked down at what was still standing lively between his legs. The heat was unbearable, yet his body and mind were utterly exhausted. He wanted to reach out and soothe himself, but that place had been stimulated so many times that it was now so sensitive it trembled even standing in the open air, with a faint stinging pain, leaving him with nowhere to start. Holding back a ball of sullen anger, he shot a cold glance at Kyle.

Yet he saw that aside from a few strands of hair falling across the man’s forehead and a few wrinkles in his clothes, Kyle was still perfectly put together and presentable, a stark contrast to his own disheveled state drenched in sweat. His dissatisfaction grew even deeper. He had meant to humiliate Kyle to make himself feel better, so how had it turned out that he was the one worse off?

Milo pressed the flask against his left cheek, numbing the burning pain, his gaze gloomy, his voice broken and hoarse: “Tell me, what method?”

Kyle, who had been straightening his sleeves, paused, pondered for a moment, and said: “Does the young master remember the anatomy lessons at the academy? There is a gland inside the body that activates semen. It can be directly stimulated through massage from the rectum to help with release.”

Milo raised an eyebrow. Kyle, as his personal attendant, had received the same elite noble education alongside him, though Milo had been a poor student and retained little of the classroom knowledge. Still, one didn’t need to pay attention in class to know what Kyle was getting at. He immediately let out a cold snort: “Rectal massage? You mean that Roman business?”

Kyle studied Milo’s expression, choosing his words carefully: “Setting that aside, in terms of human anatomy, this method is more straightforward and more effective.”

These words struck right at Milo’s heart. What he needed most right now was straightforward and effective. No more fancy tricks. Getting him comfortable was the real priority. But mentally there was still some resistance, and the invasive nature of the method gave him some pause.

Milo furrowed his brow, his gaze carrying scrutiny, and hesitated: “Do you know how to do it?”

“I have never done it before, but I have read about it in medical books and know the general approach.” Kyle’s tone was flat, his expression respectful, as if he were describing the most ordinary matter.

Milo hesitated, pressing his lips together, feeling he had no way out. Treating a dead horse as if it were alive was better than nothing. It was just a try. If it felt wrong he would call a stop, and that was that. He vaguely felt he was once again lowering his own bottom line, but what use was a bottom line if it couldn’t make him feel any better?

“Fine, let’s try it then.”

Following Kyle’s suggestion, Milo turned around and knelt on the couch on all fours, burying his face in a pillow like an ostrich, which appropriately eased the awkwardness but also made him more tense, his breathing slightly quickened.

The young man’s bottom naturally arched up, the peach-shaped curve round and full, pale white flushed with red, glistening with fine beads of sweat, like a tempting peach ready to be picked.

Kyle silently drew in a breath and gently placed his hand on it. The plump, soft, and springy sensation immediately made his hand feel as if stuck there, hard to pull away. He gently parted the cheeks, revealing the hidden chrysanthemum bud, carrying the youthful pink tint of innocence, moistened in parts from the earlier passion, glistening with wetness.

The man’s throat bobbed, his long fingers carrying an almost imperceptible tremor.

“Wait.” Milo turned his head and said fiercely to Kyle: “You be careful with me. If you hurt me I’ll skin you alive.”

“Yes, the young master can rest assured.” Kyle bent down, his breath spraying between the snow-white cheeks, making the bud tremble, then extended his tongue and licked it lightly.

“Mmm…” A strange wetness spread between his cheeks, and before he could figure out whether it was hot or itchy, the wetness was already spreading bit by bit across his rear.

The man’s tongue circled experimentally at the entrance, finding the texture fine and soft, delicate and lovely. With patience he licked leisurely, coating the entire rosy bud with a ring of moist sheen.

The bud contracted timidly, twitching in waves, like a shy little mouth. The tongue traced along the seam, poking lightly at the center, drooling saliva, teasing the little mouth to open and close in swallowing motions.

“Mmm…” Milo hugged the pillow tightly, enduring the intense strangeness. Where the tongue slid and turned, there was slickness mixed with freshness, warmth spreading into coolness, accompanied by a fine itch like little bugs crawling over him, or like feathers tickling, raising goosebumps across his whole body.

Before he knew it, the pink hole had been licked soft and moist, crystal clear and glistening, even more alluring. The tongue continued probing at the center, and in the instant the soft hole opened and closed, it suddenly slipped into the seam, probing into the pink tunnel.

“Mmm…” Milo frowned tightly, his ten fingers digging deep into the pillow, trying his utmost to ignore the strangeness in his rear, his legs trembling involuntarily. Only after a good while did he slowly relax.

Seeing the pink hole gradually adapting, Kyle gripped the flesh of the cheeks, pulled them apart to either side, pressed his lips to the bud, and drove his tongue straight in, poking, scratching, and sweeping against the inner walls left and right. At the same time his lips wrapped around the bud, sucking at the sensitive nerves of the entrance, making ambiguous sounds in his mouth, wet and noisy.

“Ah!” Milo cried out in alarm, his body going instantly rigid, fine sweat beading on his forehead. The warmth, wetness, fine itch in his rear, and the indescribable strangeness mixed into an unnameable sensation that actually spread into a tingling numbness, his waist going soft and his legs trembling, letting out soft whimpering sounds: “So weird… stop licking…”

Not daring to go too far, Kyle reluctantly pressed a kiss to the bud, raised his head, put two fingers in his mouth to coat them with saliva, then pushed them into the delicate hole.

“Mmm!” Probably because he was somewhat mentally prepared, and probably because Kyle had lubricated well, Milo didn’t feel too much pain, though the swelling sensation and discomfort of a foreign object intruding still made him tense all over, arching his back in a cat-like curve, desperately adjusting his breathing, complaining in exasperation: “Stop dawdling, hurry up… ah!”

Before the words were finished, the fingertip plunged deep, pressing directly against a vulnerable spot, and Milo jerked as if struck by electricity, his waist going soft instantly.

He felt as if an electric current had shot through him, bringing a burning heat and tingling pleasure. Different from the external to internal stimulation of the front, this pleasure came from deep inside, deep and rich, spreading outward from within, resonating and vibrating through his entire lower abdomen, making his whole body go soft.

“Ah…” Milo moaned aloud, and as the finger pressed continuously, waves of scorching hot and tingling pleasure crashed over him, one wave after another beating against the depths of his lower abdomen, his whole body trembling with it, rippling out in waves of sensation from his tailbone to the back of his head.

Yet the finger pressed faster and faster, pleasure surging like tides, one wave not yet subsiding before another rose. Milo felt as if that place were a switch for spring tides, and every press sent passion surging upward, rising without end, swallowing him whole.

“No… ahh…” Milo threw his head back, his hands gripping the bedsheets for dear life, his legs flailing and kicking, the pink hole contracting desperately, biting down tightly on the long fingers.

Kyle began to pant roughly, feeling the burning softness of the yielding flesh. He spread his two fingers slightly, trying to create a little room to move, but was squeezed even tighter, every knuckle sucked in firmly.

“Ahh…” Milo struggled even harder, his brow locked tight, his features twisted, his voice carrying a choked sob, yet what he said was: “Hurry up… what are you waiting for?… I’m almost there…”

Kyle’s face was taut, sweat rolling down his forehead. His large hand gripped the young man’s waist, guiding him to turn over, then lowered his head and took the crimson arousal into his mouth.

“Ahhh!” His sensitive body was attacked from front and back, sparks of desire bursting inside and out simultaneously. Milo cried out in a lost voice, his legs kicking wildly, his whole body twisting and struggling, indistinct whimpering sounds escaping from his mouth: “No… no… ahh…”

But Kyle lowered himself down, taking the arousal deep into his mouth in one breath. As the shaft pulsed, the flesh hole also contracted and trembled. When he loosened a little gap, his fingers took the opportunity to push in, poking at the sensitive spot.

“Ahh!” His waist sprang up as if shocked, Milo’s eyes rolled back, saliva flying, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water, his whole body convulsing as if electrified.

Kyle took the opportunity to wrap one arm around the young man’s waist, suppressing his frantic struggling, sucking at the root while his fingers drove deep into the flesh hole, firmly controlling the twisting of the hips, concentrating his attack on the sensitive spot.

“Ahhhh!” The sensitive front felt as if being sucked in, while the vulnerable rear was pressed firmly against. Milo was locked in a fully drawn bow in Kyle’s arms, unable to move. The slightest struggle brought surging waves of desire, while staying still meant enduring wave after wave of drowning passion.

“Ahh… don’t… ahh…” The intense sharp stimulation from the front, the deep and rich vibration from the rear, Milo felt two currents of pleasure racing through his body, weaving together, colliding. His mind buzzed, countless fireworks bursting, every muscle in his body trembling.

Watching Milo’s frenzied state, as if wanting to burn this scene into his heart, Kyle buried himself deep between the young man’s legs, holding on as if embedded there, sucking tight no matter how wildly the young man thrashed, his fingers gripping into the flesh of the hips, pressing and poking repeatedly at the sensitive spot. He plunged him completely into the ultimate depths of pleasure.

“Wuaaahhh!” A heartrending scream tore from his throat. Milo’s eyes rolled back, tears and saliva flowing freely. After a convulsion of electric shudders, he went completely limp.

Finally, with Kyle’s permission, he found his release.

Milo drifted off into a deep sleep. Kyle wiped the young man clean, applied ointment to his swollen cheek and rear, and once everything was tidied up, he actually climbed onto the bed and lay down on one side.

Gently stroking the young man’s hair, the man’s gaze was infinitely tender, his memory flashing back to a scene from that morning.

“It must be royalty! Do you understand?”

The duke’s voice was like thunder, shaking the room. He slapped Milo directly across the face, nearly knocking him off the sofa, sending him sprawling onto the cushion, coughing violently.

“How old are you, yet still so foolish! Now the whole city is buzzing with rumors, and you still think you can walk away clean? At worst it will be the stain of being fickle and heartless! How will you ever marry a princess in the future?”

Milo struggled to get up but collapsed at the edge of the sofa, his pathetic appearance only fueling the duke’s rage. The duke rose abruptly, his steps like thunder, but saw Kyle step forward into his line of sight. The duke looked at him as if seeing a mortal enemy, his eyes bulging with fury, grabbing Kyle by the collar with a hand like an iron vise.

“Kyle, what did I tell you?” The duke’s eyes were red, consumed by rage, his pupils spraying a terrifying madness.

Milo was just like his birth mother, of noble royal blood, the supreme symbol of his honor, the pure golden holy crown enshrined in the fortress of his power. He would never allow any crooked path to taint and stain his life’s glorious brilliance.

“I told you to watch him!” The duke’s voice was low and hoarse, yet like the roar of a beast: “By whatever means necessary, you settle this matter for me!”

The duke’s fury was like a command, a declaration. What he did not know was that this storm of rage would crack his fortress of power, and a black smoke that had been watching and waiting would spread through that crack, penetrating everywhere, silent and unseen.

“Young master, you are mine now…” Kyle bent down, licking and kissing Milo’s pink lips, murmuring softly: “This is Father’s command, after all.”