MTL - The Law of the Silent Gentleman-Chapter 13 Assassin's Art 2

"I finished reading Erice Iniesta's poetry."

At the breakfast table the next day, Giuliano told Enzo.

"Read it? Iniesta can't finish it. Every time you read it is a new experience. You can only 'read it' now."

The table was full of sumptuous food: freshly baked bread, well-fried eggs, freshly picked fruits from the branches... After the servants served their meals, Enzo waved them to leave, leaving only the old man The butler is there to serve. Both "Master" and "Master" wear masks. After the servant left, the two took off the mask. After all, no matter how powerful a person is, they can't eat through the mask.

Giuliano threw down the mask and let out a long sigh of relief: "Why do you have to wear this in the manor?"

"There are too many people here. Servants, workers, farmers who deliver goods..." Enzo said, "I don't want to be seen, and I don't want to be found out that the current owner is not the same person as the previous owner. That will cause trouble."

"I see." Giuliano nodded. No wonder Enzo removes his mask and reveals his real face only when they are alone (except maybe the old butler).

The old butler bent down and whispered in Enzo's ear, "Actually, master, you don't have to do this."

"what?"

"Umbran's former master was a young lady, no matter how much you try to pretend...you might as well just..."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"...I thought wearing a mask was your hobby."

Enzo glared at the old butler with an embarrassed expression. Giuliano looked at the two and couldn't help laughing. He hugged his belly and almost rolled under the table. As expected, Jiang was still old and hot, and Bernard could choke on a single word, leaving the majestic assassin speechless. The young man laughed so hard that tears almost came out.

With a "hell" expression on his face, Enzo ordered Bernard to back down, then held his forehead deeply, thinking about whether there was something wrong with his housekeeping policy. After a moment, his silver-gray eyes turned to Giuliano. The young apprentice just stopped laughing at this moment. The eyes of the two collided in the air, and for a moment, Giuliano felt as if something had stabbed him in the heart. He quickly lowered his head, pretending to appreciate the delicacies on the plate.

"You...why do you keep staring at me...?" He stammered, his hands unconsciously pinching the tablecloth on the table.

"I've never seen you smile so happily." Enzo replied.

"Shouldn't I be laughing like that?"

"No. You should smile more." The assassin stared at him thoughtfully. "You look beautiful when you smile."

It was just an all-too-common compliment, but Giuliano felt that his face was going to burn.

"You have a mean smile." He grabbed a large piece of bread to cover his face, using the food to hide his unease.

"Really?" Enzo picked up a bright strawberry, "Then I won't laugh anymore."

"No!"

Giuliano startled at the sound of his own voice. He quickly drank a large glass of cold water, trying to extinguish the inexplicable flame in his body with water. Why did he get so flustered when he heard Enzo say "never laugh again"? Did he want the handsome assassin to smile at him often?

"Whatever you want, I...I don't care..." he muttered.

Enzo stuffed the strawberry into his mouth with a very serious expression, but his eyes were like a pool of silver-gray water with happy ripples.

After breakfast it was time to read again, again by Erice Iniesta. Every day after that. Giuliano's schedule gradually became fixed: he practiced sword with Enzo in the morning until the sun was high; Time for assassination techniques. Five nights, seven days a week, after nightfall, Enzo would teach Giuliano how to walk in the dark more silently than a cat, how to steal gold coins from people's pockets without anyone noticing, how to hide gold coins up their sleeves. Raise the dagger as thin as a spike, then slit the enemy's throat as smoothly as a cloud gliding across the night sky, and then fled the scene as if nothing had happened.

Of the remaining two nights, one was a vacation at Giuliano's disposal. He can rest, practice, go out to play, and even use the skills Enzo taught him to sneak into the market of a nearby village and town, and play all night without being discovered.

That last night was Enzo's to himself.

At that time, Giuliano would wash himself, curl up naked on the bed, bury himself in the soft quilt, and wait for Enzo to come to his room silently and get into his quilt. Assassins are also surprisingly skilled in this area. He knows how to have fun, and he's even better at making his partner happy in bed. Under his provocation and guidance, Giuliano immersed himself in the undulating sea of ​​desire, experiencing the ups and downs of **** all night. With repeated requests, the youthful body gradually matures, turning into a ripe and sweet fruit that can be picked at will. In the end, Enzo hardly needed any effort, just a few familiar gestures, a few intimate pillow talk, and a few dazzling kisses, and Giuliano would open his body to him cooperatively, Be the glamorous lover in his arms.

It is wonderful to suppress the young people on the bed, aggression and possession without reservation, but Enzo also likes the intense love affairs where each other cooperates tacitly and each has fun. Nuoqi took the initiative to contribute to him. At first the young man was very resistant to this, but when Enzo put his arms around his waist and wedged into the deepest part of his body relying on gravity, he gave up his unnecessary reserve and became a captive of desire completely. At this time, the enthusiasm of the young apprentice can surprise his mentor. His dynamism, sensitivity and insatiability make for night after night for the two of them. Besides, the reticent must never lie, not even in bed. So Giuliano never feigned pleasure against his will to please the man who was possessing him. When he is uncomfortable, he is uncomfortable, and when he is comfortable, he is comfortable. When he is in love, his moans, screams and lewd words are enough to make the closest couples blush.

The intimacy between the two of them carried over to other times as well. One morning at the end of Muyue, the two practiced swords in the courtyard as usual, and Giuliano repeatedly made several mistakes. Enzo dropped his sword, walked around behind the young apprentice, and held his hand in a correct posture.

"Separate your legs." Enzo's deep and magnetic voice sounded in Giuliano's ears, "Lower your center of gravity, don't use too much force when holding the sword, just as if you are holding the slender hand of a noble lady, you Not to kill, but to dance an elegant dance with a beautiful lady." As he spoke, he wrapped his arms around Giuliano's waist, hummed a little tune, and swayed his body gently.

It's hard to say if he did it on purpose at the time. The fiery breath lingering in his ears, his provocative words, and the strong arms around his waist all reminded the young apprentice of the nights a few days ago. His skin became hot uncontrollably, the thing under his crotch hardened dishonestly, and his back hole was immediately wet and limp, eager to be penetrated by a huge and hard object. Of course, the changes in his body could not escape the sharp eyes of the assassin. The assassin looked around to make sure that there were no other people waiting, took the sword from Giuliano's hand, threw it aside without looking at it, and then dragged the young man who wanted to greet him but refused to hide under a dense flower bush in the courtyard. After a while, the blooming flower branches trembled violently, and lingering fiery suppressed moans came from the depths of the flower bushes. After a while, the two of them crawled out of the flowers in a state of embarrassment, covered in dirt and dust, with blades of grass in their hair. Giuliano hung his head, his face as red as a ripe tomato. Enzo touched his hand, and the young apprentice avoided shyly. The assassin walked around in front of him, lifted his chin, and gave him a long wet kiss.

That afternoon, when the old butler went to the "classroom" to pack up the books, he was surprised to find that the room was empty, and the pair of teachers and students were uncharacteristically not reciting Iniesta's classics here. At the same time, the continuous and regular shaking and creaking of the bed came from the ceiling above his head. The old housekeeper thought about it. The room above was Giuliano's bedroom. He let out an "oh", and left calmly with an expression of knowing everything in his heart.