The Villainous Male Supporting Character Courts Death Every Day : Chapter 8: Spring Tide

The moment Kyle stepped into the bedroom, he saw Milo sprawled face down on the bed, kicking his legs lazily, his brows knitted into a knot, his cheeks flushed with angry color that only made him look more delicate and pretty. His pale calves swung back and forth at the edge of the bed, as if he were cooking up some mischief, annoyed at someone and plotting his revenge.

Kyle took this in and secretly smiled to himself, understanding perfectly yet showing nothing on his face. He simply bowed his head respectfully. “Young Master, I have returned.”

Milo let out a cold snort, flipped over and sat up, asking a question he already knew the answer to. “What did Father want with you?”

Kyle smiled faintly, his tone as steady as a lake in the afternoon. “His Grace inquired about the Zabert Piano and affirmed the positive influence this matter has brought to the family in artistic circles. He expressed his praise for you.”

“Praise for me? Or praise for you?” Milo’s golden eyes narrowed, shooting out a cold light. “Butler Kyle, you really know how to steal the spotlight in front of Father.”

Kyle’s expression did not change, his tone still respectful. “You overstate it, Young Master. I was merely acting according to your instructions. To praise me is to praise you.”

Seeing Kyle’s composed manner only stoked Milo’s fury further. He shot to his feet, glaring at Kyle, and said through gritted teeth. “You sure know how to butter people up!”

“You praise me too much, Young Master,” Kyle lowered his eyelids, his voice calm, as if unmoved by Milo’s anger.

Milo hopped right in front of him, chin raised, eyes locked on his, his voice full of undeniable rage. “Look at me!”

Kyle raised his eyes. His black pupils reflected Milo’s puffed-up appearance, his flushed little face carrying a stubborn childishness, like a fierce baby animal.

Milo’s eyes went wide, and he actually caught a trace of amusement in Kyle’s gaze. His anger flared even hotter. “You must be feeling pretty pleased with yourself, right? Father praised you, so you must be feeling pretty pleased with yourself, right?”

Kyle looked at Milo in silence. Suddenly he raised his hand, unfastened his collar and buttons, and removed his shirt, revealing a body covered in scars. He knelt on the floor with deliberate slowness, like submission, yet firmly holding the rhythm and the upper hand. “Young Master, I am not pleased with myself. If I have displeased you, I am willing to accept punishment.”

Looking down at the man’s scarred body, all trophies of Milo’s own handiwork, permanent marks of the man’s lower station and his right to trample upon him, Milo’s mood eased somewhat.

“You are quite obedient.” Milo plopped back down on the edge of the bed, seeming to have cooled down somewhat, yet his anger still smoldered and his malice lingered. He opened his mouth to mock. “Do you actually enjoy it when I punish you too? Does Father know what a freak you are? Useless waste of space.”

“Young Master, you overstate it.” Kyle’s eyelids were half lowered, his lashes concealing a flash of emotion that came and went in an instant. “Punishment is a grace you bestow upon me.”

“Butler Kyle certainly knows how to talk,” Milo’s golden eyes turned cold. He grabbed Kyle’s chin and forced his head back, sneering. “So this is the mouth you use to bewitch Father, to please Father.”

Kyle gazed into the storm in those golden eyes, eyes that burned and blazed only for him, like a golden sun always reflecting his dark shadow, casting sparks that could set the plains ablaze across his life.

Kyle’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if basking in sunlight. The corner of his mouth curved up, his tone genuinely calm. “You praise me too much, Young Master. If you are willing, I would rather use this mouth to please you.”

Milo froze, maintaining his grip on Kyle’s chin, rooted to the spot.

The tense atmosphere, the suddenly blunt language, it felt like being in the middle of a game mission when a popup ad for pornography suddenly appeared. When he came back to himself, he saw Kyle’s eyes lowered, still with that obedient look, as if everything had been his own dirty imagination. Milo blinked awkwardly.

But once a thought went crooked, there was no going back. His gaze involuntarily drifted from Kyle’s eyes to those thin lips, their sword-sharp curve actually quite attractive. He wondered about their enveloping strength… The palm of his hand held the warm jaw of a grown man, firm and powerful…

Milo swallowed. Wait, hadn’t they been saying just the other day that sexual humiliation was very effective? What was the mission just now?

Rather than whipping himself half to death…

Milo, an adult working stiff, had been alone in this book world for over a decade.
A male supporting character whose physical body was right in the prime of hormonal teenage years.
A vicious male supporting character who kept up a proud persona, with no friends and no lovers.
A single male supporting character who, even transmigrated into a noble, still could only keep company with his right hand under the covers.

Almost in an instant, he lowered his standards once again.

“Kyle, you know you are really annoying when you talk?” Milo’s pupils contracted slightly, his eyes sparking with excitement as he rubbed the man’s lips. “This mouth, why don’t you use it to please me in another way.”

Saying this without daring to look at the man’s expression, Milo suddenly pressed both hands against the back of Kyle’s head and pushed his face down toward his crotch, his voice trembling with excitement. “Kyle… you know what to do, right? You know what you should do, right…”

Kyle did not speak, nor did he move. He simply let Milo press him down like this. Milo could only stare at the back of the man’s silent head, breathing rapidly with nervousness, palms sweating, his fingertips buried in black hair trembling. For a moment, the room held no sound, only the two men’s hot breaths, facing off in silence.

Who knows how long the standoff lasted before the man suddenly raised his hand, and Milo’s entire heart leaped into his throat.

He saw the man reach to undo Milo’s trousers. Milo’s throat bobbed, his legs parting in cooperation. When the man’s head drew near, Milo’s chest heaved, his heart pounding like a drum, both nervous and expectant.

A wave of scorching breath blew against his groin, then a warm wetness touched him, slowly enveloping his entire tip.

“Ngh…” Milo sucked in a breath, feeling his lower body wrapped in a wet, scorching heat, slick and soft, dense and continuous. An unprecedented wave of pleasure surged through him, rippling outward in circles through his body, wave after wave of bliss.

The man slowly went deeper, his lips enveloping the swollen length and pushing forward until he had taken it all. Milo’s lips parted slightly, his breath coming in light gasps. He felt as if he were immersed in a warm, lingering ocean, his lower body burning hot and standing rigid, desire rising, quickly hardening.

The man began moving in shallow and deep strokes, his tongue now and then tracing the shape of the swollen length, nimbly sweeping across the head, the shaft, the slit, the ridge…

“Ngh…” Milo trembled with pleasure, his entire back arching, neck tucked in, legs quivering. Tides of desire washed over him wave after wave, lost in the shaking pleasure unable to extricate himself. Suddenly, the tender tip was sucked hard.

“Ahh!” Milo cried out, his whole body jolting as if shocked. Pleasure surged through like a raging current, tingling spreading along his nerves, even his spine going weak and soft. Before he could recover, the man swallowed deep again, his throat contracting to stimulate the tip.

“Ahhh…” The sensitive head seemed to be gripped tight, wrapped in a circle of wet, scorching heat, rubbing finely, sending up electric prickles, like feathers teasing his nerves. The pleasure shot straight to his brain, stimulating his scalp to tingle, his whole body shuddering.

Milo’s consciousness grew hazy, his gaze unfocused, spring breaths leaking brokenly from his nose. His entire swollen length was buried deep in the wet heat, sucked densely, his whole body melting into weakness and softness, turning into a pool of spring water, only his hands resting limply on the man’s head.

The man’s neck moved, the rhythmic strokes slowly speeding up. Each deep thrust took him to the root, his throat swallowing to stimulate the tip. On the withdrawal he slid to the head, enveloping the rim with a suck, his tongue gliding along the curve of the swollen length, now and then lapping at the slit.

“Ahhhh!” Milo’s whole body tensed, toes curling. Spring tides crashed against him in layers, rising and falling, surging and churning, growing wilder and wilder. He could only cling to the man’s head like a drowning man, fingers buried deep in black hair, his mouth full of uncontainable moans.

Sensing Milo’s response, the lips and tongue grew more fierce, sucking hard with wet sounds, tongue licking, sweeping, and curling without restraint, now circling the tip rapidly, now repeatedly prodding the slit.

“Ahh… no…” The overwhelming pleasure was crashing down, terrifying in its intensity, making him want to flee. Milo pulled at the man’s hair, twisting unbearably, his legs somehow struggling up onto the man’s shoulders, kicking wildly, his voice carrying a passionate sob. “Ahh… I’m going to come…”

At these words, Kyle swallowed deep in one go, his nose pressed against the boy’s groin, and sucked hard.

“Ahhhh!” Milo threw his head back, his pale neck arching in a beautiful curve, his whole body jerking hard. A hot stream spurted out, and then he collapsed backward onto the bed, gasping for breath.

Milo’s eyes were dazed and glistening, his whole body flushed pink, a thin sheen of sweat upon him, as if he had just been through intense exercise. Yet inside he felt refreshed in body and mind, light and airy, as if floating among the clouds.

Until the system notification of mission completion sounded in his mind. Milo’s spirit jolted, his consciousness returning, and what welled up was extreme pleasure and satisfaction, a thorough and complete delight, a triumphant feeling of regaining control, and a wild joy at discovering a new world.

As if in this system-controlled life, he had finally found something to be happy about. Milo was overcome with emotion, tears in his eyes, feeling that he had opened the door to a whole new world, with infinite longing and anticipation for the future. From now on, his days would be about doing missions and living life, a splendid existence where neither interfered with the other.

Milo turned his head toward the corner of the bedroom where the porcelain basin sat, looking at the man’s back as he silently washed up, and broke into a wicked grin.

“Kyle, not bad at all. Keep it up.”

Kyle spat a mouthful of water into the basin, cupped his hands to lift the towel, and buried his face in it to wipe away the water droplets. Half raising his eyes, his black irises were deep as an endless night, like the gaping maw of an abyss, silently and quietly swallowing everything.