The System Keeps Making Me Do Indecent Missions [BL, R18]

Chapter 116: Chapter 116: The Calculated Surrender

The rain outside had stopped at some unknown hour. Within the room, all that remained was the steady, deep breathing of the man who had fallen soundly asleep following their prolonged lovemaking. Lucien lay perfectly still within Dominic Vance’s embrace, his eyes wide open as he stared into the boundless darkness ahead. His entire body ached, the pain radiating from his lower back down to his thighs, from his neck spreading across his shoulders; every muscle fiber and sinew felt as though it had been violently torn apart and then clumsily stitched back together. The agony caused by the world’s rejection still throbbed dully, akin to thousands of needles piercing his internal organs, but at the very least, it had subsided slightly for the moment, as if the falling rain had washed away a fraction of the torment this body was forced to endure.

Or perhaps, it was simply that he had grown accustomed to it.

Lucien moved slightly, intending to turn over, but the arm wrapped around his waist instantly tightened in a reflexive grip. Even in his slumber, Dominic Vance imprisoned Lucien just like that. Lucien let out an incredibly soft breath, his fingertips lightly brushing across the back of Dominic’s hand.

It was merely a trivial action done while his mind was wandering.

[Commencing calculation of the departure trajectory, preparing to connect with the main spatial portal.]

System 000’s voice rang out; Lucien was not particularly surprised, only letting out a soft sigh: "That fast? I thought you would need to leave a little more time for adaptation. Do you plan for Dominic Vance to wake up tomorrow morning with a corpse right next to him?"

[The rejection from this world has grown increasingly massive; you cannot remain for much longer. As for preparing the departure trajectory, it requires some time; you might only truly leave tomorrow morning, or perhaps the day after.]

"Oh."

The man beside him stirred slightly, his searing hot breath puffing against the nape of Lucien’s neck. Lucien immediately relaxed his entire body, concealing the absolute clarity within the depths of his eyes, leaving behind only the bone-deep exhaustion of a lover who had just experienced a night of passionate intimacy.

"Dominic..." His voice was incredibly small and heavily hoarse, carrying a trace of indistinct grievance.

Dominic Vance was not fully awake, but his body habitually pulled Lucien closer into his embrace, his chin rubbing gently against the crown of Lucien’s head. The man’s voice was heavy with sleep, so deep and warm that it could melt anyone: "Go to sleep, I am right here."

Lucien did not sleep. He looked at the man’s bare back beneath the pale moonlight, observing the scratch marks he had left upon that back during their climax, and gazing at the chiseled face that had smoothed out in absolute satisfaction and tranquility.

Truly beautiful.

Truly a pity.

His lips curled up slightly, forming a smile that carried absolutely no warmth.

...

Three hours ago.

Dominic Vance laid Lucien down on the bed, the soft mattress sinking deeply, as if wanting to entirely swallow the frail figure into its depths. Lucien lay there, his black hair in a messy tangle across the pristine white pillows, the thin silk pajamas having slipped all the way down to his elbows, exposing his rounded shoulders and delicate collarbones. Beneath the warm yellow glow of the lamp, his skin was blindingly white, like porcelain, like snow, and equally as fragile as snow, seeming as though a single forceful touch would be enough to cause it to shatter into pieces.

Dominic Vance planted his hands on either side of Lucien’s ears, looking down from above. The man’s chest heaved, his breathing heavy and ragged. The lust within Dominic’s eyes was so transparently clear that Lucien could almost feel its searing heat breathing against his own flesh. But he still restrained himself. He was still desperately trying to hold onto the very last thread of rationality.

"Your body is not well." He repeated, his voice deep and murky, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Lucien almost burst into laughter. It was truly ridiculous. The person standing before him was a cold-blooded murderer within this storyline, someone who had never known the meaning of restraint. And yet at this very moment, he was pretending to be a man who knew how to care.

But no matter, it was better this way. He still had a play to act out, after all.

Lucien blinked very slowly, his long, sweeping eyelashes fluttering delicately like butterfly wings resting upon a morning blossom. He raised his hand, his slender, slightly cold fingers grazing the man’s cheek. The touch was as feather-light as a passing breeze, yet it caused Dominic Vance to freeze for a split second.

"But I want to." His voice was hushed, carrying a trace of meticulously calculated petulance. His fingertips trailed from the cheek down to the jawline, and then came to a halt upon the man’s continuously shifting Adam’s apple. "I want you, Dominic."

That was the very first time he had ever called the man’s name in such an intimate manner. Normally, he always maintained a distance, always used respectful formalities, and always appeared timid and submissive. But today was different. Today, he was someone on the verge of departure, and those about to leave no longer needed to maintain any reservations.

Dominic Vance’s pupils contracted. He seized Lucien’s wrist, his massive hand squeezing so tightly that Lucien almost cried out in pain. But he did not cry out. He only furrowed his brows slightly, and then broke into a smile. A truly beautiful, thoroughly lingering smile, as if the person in front of him was his entire world.

"Stop joking around." He gritted his teeth, his voice completely hoarse.

"I am not joking." Lucien tilted his head, the tip of his nose softly nuzzling against the back of the hand that was restraining his wrist. His lips parted slightly, his warm breath fanning over the man’s flesh: "I have thought about this a lot. I know my body is not in good shape, and I know I might not be able to endure it... but I still want to."

He lifted his gaze to look at the man. Those glittering eyes looked as though they contained the entire starry night sky, reflecting a bewitchingly radiant light. His voice dropped lower, reduced to a mere whisper as if he were sharing a profound secret: "What if... there will be no more opportunities in the future?"

An ambiguous statement, capable of being interpreted in a multitude of ways. But under these circumstances, to a man drowning in sheer desire, it held only one singular meaning: a clumsy confession of love from a deeply infatuated fool.

Dominic Vance gave no reply. However, his eyes darkened entirely. The very last thread of rationality decisively snapped.

He bent down, capturing Lucien’s lips with a ruthlessly savage kiss. There was no longer the slightest shred of restraint, no longer a single trace of gentleness. His tongue pried open Lucien’s teeth like a sharp blade, sweeping up the small, shrinking tongue within, sucking so fiercely that Lucien felt the very tip of his own tongue go numb. The cool minty scent from the man’s toothpaste flooded his oral cavity, intermingling with the faint, metallic tang of blood when Dominic’s teeth accidentally bit into his lower lip.

Lucien let out a soft whimper from his throat, his two hands gripping tightly onto the fabric at the man’s shoulders. The sharp sting from his lips, mingling with the agony caused by the world’s rejection, made his vision blur. Yet he continued to keep his eyes wide open, still allowing the man to do whatever he pleased.

If one wanted to put on a play, they had to see it through to the bitter end.

The kiss dragged on until Lucien truly could not catch his breath. His chest heaved violently, every feeble breath escaping past his parted lips. Dominic Vance finally spared his swollen, red lips, shifting his assault down to the chin, down the neck, and then upon the collarbones. Every single kiss was both rushed and profoundly greedy, as if wishing to devour him whole into his stomach. His hand no longer restrained Lucien’s wrist, but rather trailed downwards, grabbing hold of the hem of the thin silk pajama shirt.

A loud tearing sound ripped through the air.

The sheer black fabric was violently torn apart like a scrap of waste paper. Lucien jolted in shock, narrowly stopping himself from blurting out a curse. This shirt was incredibly expensive, did this bastard even know that? But instead of flying into a rage, he only managed to flash a smile that was half-shy and half-inviting, before wrapping his arms around the man’s neck.

"Take it slow..." His voice trembled unsteadily, identical to a frightened little rabbit that was still trying its best to curry favor with the big bad wolf.

But Dominic Vance did not take it slow. He ripped away the remaining shredded fabric from Lucien’s body, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. The entirety of Lucien’s pristine white upper body was exposed to the cool air, a thin layer of goosebumps rising across his smooth skin. The man lowered his head, his lips grazing over the collarbones, tracing down the gaunt chest, before finally pausing at one side of Lucien’s breast.

Lucien bit down hard on his own lip.

The man’s hot, damp tongue curled around the small bud, sucking and grinding against it. A paralyzing sensation shot straight up his spine, forcing his back to arch upwards involuntarily. His two hands tangled tightly into the man’s hair, unsure whether he wanted to pull the head away or press it down deeper. Soft moans slipped out of his throat, tiny and disjointed, much like the whimpering of a starved kitten.

"Nngh... don’t..."

"Don’t what?" His voice was thick and dark, carrying a faint trace of amusement. He lifted his head, staring intensely at Lucien. His gaze at this moment resembled that of a wild beast relishing its prey, equally cruel and brimming with dark excitement.

Lucien shook his head, his tear-filled eyes gleaming: "Don’t... don’t stop..."

Dominic Vance’s pupils dilated. He chuckled softly, a low rumble emanating from deep within his chest. Then, he lowered his head once more, this time focusing on the other side.

Lucien closed his eyes, accepting the numbing sensation that was radiating throughout his entire body. Within his mind, he coldly took note: this was merely a normal physiological response of this body. Nothing more, nothing less. This body had grown accustomed to the man’s touches, well-acquainted with the stimulation he provided. But his heart most certainly had not. His heart continued to beat steadily and slowly, acting much like a pre-programmed machine.

[Final mission progress: 40%.]

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