The Retired CEO's Guide To Being Spoiled-Chapter 191: Leaving at the Climax

"Ethan... Ethan..."

Julian’s voice emerged as a ragged whisper, the sound scraped raw and thick with emotion. It carried a fractured, nameless sob, a sound that teetered precariously between a desperate plea for mercy and a sinful invitation for more.

Ethan Caldwell offered no immediate verbal response. Instead, he buried his face deep into the hollow of the younger man’s neck, inhaling greedily. He drank in the natural musk of Julian’s body, which was inextricably mingled with the faint, lingering notes of his body wash, like a long-deprived addict finally stumbling upon his antidote. A heavy, suffocating possessiveness saturated every ragged breath he took, the air whistling through his nostrils with the weight of his desire. Then, without warning, he dipped lower, sinking his teeth into the delicate curve of Julian Sterling’s collarbone. It wasn’t a savage bite, not enough to draw blood or cause true agony, but it was firm enough to leave a stark, crimson brand blooming against the porcelain-white skin. It was the act of a wild beast arrogantly marking its territory, a silent yet deafening declaration of absolute sovereignty that brooked no trespassers.

"You provoked me."

The man’s voice was a low rumble, roughened and darkened by a torrent of desire that was being reined in to its absolute limit. It resonated right against Julian’s ear, vibrating through his skull. Scorching breath fanned against the sensitive skin, causing Julian’s ear to flush a brilliant, burning red that rapidly bled down the column of his neck like spilled wine.

"Julian, do you have any idea what you are doing right now?"

Julian’s mind was a haze of fog, his eyes swimming with unshed tears that blurred the world above him. His rationality was engaged in a violent tug-of-war, one side screaming at him to push the man away and salvage the last shreds of his dignity, the other urging him to surrender completely, to drag Ethan down closer and satisfy the deep, dark cravings surging through his veins. Ethan’s question should have acted as a bucket of ice water to snap him out of it. Instead, it functioned like gasoline thrown onto an open flame, igniting a reckless, maddening desperation within him.

He was acutely aware of their surroundings. They were outdoors, amidst the desolate silence of the mountains and forests, where the wind whispered secrets through the trees. Yet, solitude did not equate to absolute safety. At any given moment, a car could sweep past on the nearby road, or a hiker could stumble upon this mortifying tableau, after all, they were sprawled conspicuously across the hood of the car, exposed to the heavens.

"Ethan... Ethan..."

Julian’s voice fractured the air once more, this time even more ravaged and hoarse than before. It trembled with that nameless sob, a cocktail of fear and electrifying stimulation, sounding like a beggar pleading for salvation while simultaneously seducing his destroyer to wreck him completely.

The man still refused to dignify Julian with a spoken answer. He persisted in nuzzling into the crook of the neck, breathing in that intoxicating, drug-like scent to soothe the roaring beast caged within his chest. Ethan’s blistering breath lingered over the thin, vulnerable skin, sending shivers cascading down Julian’s spine in relentless waves. Then, abruptly, the man nipped the collarbone again, his teeth finding the exact same spot as before. It wasn’t painful, but the sensation sent a maddening, phantom itch radiating through every nerve ending, leaving Julian feeling more restless and on edge than he had ever been in his life. The mixture of pleasure and anxiety churned in his gut, twisting into a knot of anticipation.

"Julian..." Ethan murmured, his tone as deep and resonant as the strings of a cello, yet laced with the husky grit of barely restrained lust: "Clearly, every single time, it is you who provokes me first. And yet, you turn around and throw a tantrum for no reason, banishing me to sleep on the sofa."

"I didn’t force you to sleep on the sofa, you chose to do that yourself." Julian protested, feeling wrongfully accused. He pouted, mumbling his rebuttal with a note of dissatisfaction, his voice small and petulant against the heavy atmosphere.

"But refusing to let me into the bed is essentially the same as kicking me out." Ethan whispered the retort as he lowered his head to capture Julian’s lower lip, effectively sealing off any further excuses.

Unlike the earlier kiss, which had been a violent storm of aggression and dominance, a hurricane that sought to devour everything in its path, this kiss was agonizingly tender, lingering and slow. The man took his time, sucking on Julian’s soft lower lip, savoring the texture and taste as if he were enjoying an exquisite, sweet dessert. He rubbed his own lips against the swollen flesh, his wet tongue darting out occasionally to graze against Julian’s shy, retreating tongue. The slower and more gentle it became, the more it caused Julian’s brain to overheat, spinning wildly in a drunken stupor of affection. A profound sense of longing and pressure pooled directly in his lower abdomen, rushing toward his erection, making Julian’s breathing grow heavier and more ragged in the confined space between their bodies.

It was undeniably a kiss devoid of roughness, yet it possessed the power to shatter Julian’s resolve completely. The steely retort he had been preparing, "You can just go to another room", crumbled into dust, vanishing into the wet, ambiguous sounds of their lips moving together, lost in the heat of the moment.

When Ethan finally, reluctantly released him, Julian’s lips had been kissed into numbness, stripped of sensation. The petals were slightly swollen, a rich berry-red, and glistening with moisture. As they pulled apart, a thin, suggestive thread of silver saliva stretched between them before breaking, a visual so lewd that it caused the heat in Julian’s cheeks to flare up violently in shame.

The man pressed his face close, forehead resting against forehead, the tip of his nose brushing Julian’s. The scorching heat of his breath and the naked, unmasked desire swirling in the depths of Ethan’s dark eyes washed over Julian’s face, incinerating his remaining rationality. Accompanying that heat was a low, warm confession: "But I only want to share a room with you. I don’t want to go anywhere else."

Julian’s ears burned a brilliant crimson once more. His entire face flushed the color of a ripe tomato, the heat radiating off him in palpable waves.

Honestly, there were times when Julian seriously questioned and doubted whether Ethan Caldwell was truly the celibate, dry, and boring man he had been for over twenty years. This master-class flirting technique, where a single sentence could tease a person until they were blushing from head to toe, it looked far more like the repertoire of a seasoned playboy, a wealthy heir who spent his days toying with hearts, sparing neither men nor women. It was a contradiction that baffled him, yet excited him all the same.

However, it appeared Ethan was not only skilled at teasing with words but also possessed a terrifying acuity for reading emotions. The moment he noticed Julian’s mind drifting into wandering thoughts, the man’s expression darkened. He dipped his head and delivered a sharp, punishing bite to the collarbone, much more painful than the previous ones, a reminder of who was in control.

"Ah! Nngh..."

Julian started, emitting two short, sharp sounds. The first was a cry of surprise at the sudden pain. The second was a gasp because, without him realizing when or how, Ethan’s wandering hand had slipped inside his trousers. It accurately and firmly captured the erection that was already straining against the confines of his tight underwear.

"Nngh... don’t... hic... not there..."

The man’s hand proved to be incredibly dexterous, his knuckles moving with fluid precision. The rough pad of his thumb rubbed firmly over the sensitive head of the member through the thin cotton fabric, sending a jolt of electricity shooting up Julian’s spine that made his entire body shudder uncontrollably. His burning desire was completely engulfed within Ethan’s large palm, subjected to a rhythmic stimulation and kneading that was impossible to endure. Every stroke was calculated to wreck him, every squeeze bringing him closer to the precipice.

In no time at all, Julian was stroked by Ethan into a state where his eyes were glassy with unshed tears, his consciousness drifting far away toward a nebulous realm of pure pleasure. Unconsciously, he threw his arms around the man’s neck, seeking an anchor in the storm, and bit down hard on his lip to stifle the shameful whimpers threatening to claw their way out of his throat.

Even though he was letting himself go, surrendering to the tide of sensation, Julian remembered all too clearly that they were out in the wild. They were surrounded by nature with absolutely no cover. Ethan himself had mentioned that people or cars occasionally came here for the view, for the solitude. Who could say? If someone were to suddenly pass by and witness this scene...

The terrified thought that someone might catch them in this act of debauchery pulled Julian’s nerves taut, making his body hypersensitive. It magnified every touch, every stroke of Ethan’s hand a thousandfold. The illicit nature of the act mixed with the physical pleasure to create a blinding white light in his mind. Pleasure crashed over him like a tsunami, and within moments, unable to withstand the intensity, Julian released, spilling warm fluid into the man’s hand, his body arching off the hood of the car in release.

Perhaps the atmosphere had been too scorching and intense, for Julian hadn’t even realized when his troublesome trousers had been stripped away by Ethan. Only when his soul returned to his body and his breathing gradually leveled out did he feel the biting cold wind whistling through the door gap, grazing his bare skin and raising gooseflesh. At this moment, Ethan was still pressing down on him. The man’s heavy weight made Julian acutely aware of the scalding, massive object threateningly hard beneath the man’s fly, pressing firmly against Julian’s inner thigh, a silent promise of what could have been.

Just as Julian was bracing himself, not yet having the chance to speak or mentally prepare for the inevitable next step, the man calmly pulled out a wet wipe. With meticulous care, Ethan cleaned away the sticky fluids, his movements tender yet decisive, wiping away the evidence of their indiscretion. Then, he reached out and retrieved the trousers he had tossed onto the car roof earlier, looking for all the world as if he were seriously preparing to dress Julian again.

Are you out of your mind?

We’ve gone this far, and you’re seriously planning to put my pants back on and drive home?