The Tyrant's Secret fetish-Chapter 30

~Si woo~

"I hate you so much right now," he muttered, but it came out sad, almost broken, and that pulled at me, made the laughter die a bit in my throat. "Yeah, well, hate me all you want, but you’re still hard as hell because of me." He didn’t deny it, just hung his head, shoulders slumping, and for a second, the room felt heavy with that sadness, him looking so lost and weak down there.

"Come back up," I said, softer now, but still with that edge. "No," he whispered, but his foot lifted to the first step, like his body was deciding for him. "Yes, you will, because that milk ain’t doing shit, is it?" I laughed again, but it was forced this time, covering the guilt creeping in.

He took another step up, then stopped, shaking his head. "I can’t... I don’t want this." His voice cracked, tears spilling over now, and damn, it hit me hard, seeing him cry like that, angry tears mixed with the horniness making him miserable. "Aww, crying now? That’s cute, Ye-jun, really tugs at the heartstrings," I said but inside I felt like maybe I’d gone too far this time.

He wiped his face roughly, glaring up. "You think this is cute? Drugging me, making me feel like this? You’re a sick sadistic pervert and fuck!" He yelled it, loud enough that I glanced toward Mom’s room, hoping she was asleep. "Keep it down, or she’ll hear how much you want my cock," I hissed back, laughing to cover the unease.

"Want it? I’d rather die!" But even as he said it, he climbed another step, body trembling. "Sure, sure, keep telling yourself that." The back-and-forth was fast, him snapping, me mocking, but underneath it was this raw mess of emotions, his anger boiling over into sadness.

By the time he was halfway up, he stopped again, leaning against the wall, hand slipping back to his pants, stroking himself without thinking, then yanking it away with a curse. "God, why won’t it stop?" he whined, voice desperate, and I laughed hard, doubling over. "Because you need me, dumbass, not some stupid milk!"

He looked up, eyes wet, face twisted. "I need you to fuck off and die, that’s what I need!" But he kept climbing, slower now, each step a battle. "Oh, big words from the guy who’s about to beg for it." "I’m not begging!" he shouted, but then he tripped a little, catching himself, and burst into tears for real, sobbing quietly. "This sucks, Si-woo, it really sucks, why’d you do this to me?"

The laughter died completely then, and I felt a wave of regret hit me, hard enough to make my eyes sting. "Ye-jun..." I started, but he cut me off, "Don’t, just don’t pretend you care now."

He made it to the top, pushing past me, but I grabbed his arm, pulling him into a hug despite his protests. "Let go!" he sobbed, but his body melted against mine, horny and weak. "Shh, it’s okay," I murmured, but he shoved me away again, heading back to the room. "It’s not okay, nothing about this is okay!" His voice was raw, full of that deep sadness.

We tumbled back into the room like that. "Come on, lay down, let me help," I said, guiding him to the bed. "Help? You caused this!" he accused, but he let me push him down, his hands fisting the sheets. "Yeah, and I’ll fix it too," I said, stripping off my pants now, showing him everything, and his eyes locked on, hunger winning over the tears.

"No... yes... fuck, I don’t know," he babbled, chaotic, emotions all over. I climbed over him, kissing his neck, and he arched up, moaning through the sobs. "Arhgggg goodness stop it! ," he whispered. "Shhhhh just take it," I shot back, but it came out serious, and he laughed weakly through the tears, a sad, broken sound.

But then he pushed me off suddenly, rolling away. "I can’t, I need more milk or something, this isn’t working." And before I could stop him, he was up, dashing out the door again, down the stairs, dizzy but determined, and I sat there, laughing my ass off because seriously, milk? The only milk he was craving was my cum, no doubt about it.

I couldn’t just stand there upstairs laughing my ass off while Ye-jun stumbled down to the kitchen like some horny zombie trying to cure himself with fucking milk, so I crept after him real quiet, bare feet on the cold floor, heart thumping because if Mom woke up to this shitshow, we’d both be dead, her yelling about what the hell we were doing up at this hour, and yeah, I was still shirtless, pants hanging low, but I didn’t care, just kept my steps light, peeking around the corner as he fumbled with the fridge door, light spilling out harsh and yellow, making him squint.

He grabbed the carton, hands shaking bad, spilling a drop on the floor, muttering "fuck, fuck" under his breath, and I bit back a chuckle, watching him pour into a glass, the milk swirling white, and he lifted it to his lips, desperate like it was gonna magically kill the fire I put in him.

But no way was I letting that happen, not when I had him right where I wanted, so I darted in quickly, snatching the glass right out of his hand mid-sip, milk splashing on his chin, and he yelped, "Hey!" loud enough that I slapped a hand over his mouth, hissing "Shh, you idiot, you’ll wake Mom!" His eyes went wide, furious, body twisting as he grabbed for the glass, but I held it high, out of reach, and with my other arm I yanked him close, dragging him toward the stairs even as he dug his heels in, whispering-yelling "Give it back, Si-woo, I need it!" he was panting so sad oh my goodness only heavens know how hard that made me.