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

Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Sweet Torment

Dominic Vance stayed awake for almost the entire night. He just lay there, using one arm as a pillow for Lucien, while his other hand tightly embraced the youth’s slender waist against his chest. Throughout the long night, Dominic did nothing but listen to the labored breathing of the person in his arms and struggle against the most primal instincts of a man.

Lucien slept restlessly. A mild fever made the young man’s body radiate heat, turning his naturally fair skin into an alluring shade of pale pink. In his delirium, he would occasionally tremble, then instinctively seek a heat source by nuzzling even closer into Dominic’s chest.

The damnably frustrating part was that Lucien was unimaginably soft right now.

He unconsciously tugged at the collar of Dominic’s shirt, burying his small face into the crook of the man’s neck. Lucien’s dry lips would occasionally brush lightly against Dominic’s bobbing Adam’s apple. With every single touch, every scorching breath exhaled against his skin, the blue veins on Dominic’s forehead throbbed violently.

Dominic felt he should have just pinned this person down and fucked him back to consciousness, rather than gritting his teeth to endure this desire that felt ready to explode.

However, whenever that lust surged to his throat, his gaze would inadvertently fall upon the deep purple bruises on Lucien’s wrists or the terrifying scar behind the youth’s ear. Instantly, the newly kindled flame was completely extinguished by a freezing bucket of water named guilt.

It was truly a scene of excruciating torture.

Within the conscious space, System 000 suddenly popped up, its overly cheerful voice echoing like rubbing salt into an open wound: [Congratulations to the male lead for successfully unlocking the rare skill: Self-Torment. Host, just look, Dominic’s face is completely green.]

Lucien, still in a daze, felt annoyed by the noise and could only snap back irritably in his mind: "Shut up..."

000 gave a cold harrumph: [I am telling the truth. Do you realize you are lying on a ticking time bomb? This man might hold back for one night, but he definitely cannot hold it in for a lifetime.]

Lucien subconsciously curled his lips: "Rest assured, he can hold it back. Dominic is too busy feeling like a beast to actually dare make a move right now."

[I think he is about to endure it until he turns into a pervert.] 000 concluded before vanishing without a trace.

The following morning, early sunlight pierced through the gap in the curtains, casting a glow over the messy bed. Lucien woke up with his entire body aching, his mind still slightly groggy. Dominic had already sat up at some point, holding a fresh bag of medicine the doctor had delivered early in the morning.

Dominic looked at him, his cold face displaying no emotion, yet the dark circles beneath his eyes betrayed the fact that he had stayed awake all night: "Are you awake?"

The moment Lucien saw the medicine bag, his already pale complexion turned several shades whiter. As someone in the circle, one glance was enough to know exactly where those ointments were meant to be applied. Applying the medicine meant that all the humiliating marks from last night would once again be entirely exposed right before this man’s eyes.

"I... I can do it myself..." Lucien whispered, his trembling hands pulling the blanket to cover himself.

Dominic’s expression grew cold. Approaching without a word, he directly ripped the blanket away, his tone carrying an undeniable oppression: "How are you going to do it yourself? Can you see your own back?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he didn’t give Lucien a chance to react before directly lifting the youth up and forcing Lucien to sit on his lap.

This position was exceptionally ambiguous. Lucien was only wearing a thin nightshirt, its hem skewed to reveal fair shoulders and a chest heavily marked with bright red hickeys. Dominic tightly held Lucien’s waist with one hand, while the other opened the ointment tube. His fingers, coated in the cold liquid, began to touch the youth’s skin.

Lucien was extremely sensitive at this moment. The instant those fingers lightly grazed his bruised wrists or his scraped waist, his entire body trembled violently. His breathing fell out of rhythm, and his weak legs lacked any point of support.

And the more Lucien trembled, the more Dominic felt his blood boiling.

Lucien truly was not trying to seduce him right now. He was sick, and his body was so frail that when pulled onto the man’s lap, he unconsciously sought an anchor so as not to fall. His skinny arms wrapped around Dominic’s neck, his face resting against the man’s shoulder.

But while adjusting his posture, Lucien’s soft legs subconsciously brushed against Dominic’s hips.

A stiff and scorching sensation instantly transmitted from below, making the atmosphere in the room highly dangerous. Lucien froze, his face immediately turning bright red to the tips of his ears. He realized what was pressing so closely against his thigh.

Acting on instinct, he wanted to pull away, his voice quivering: "I am sorry... I didn’t mean to..."

This apology of his was like a spark thrown into a barrel of gunpowder. Dominic seemed to have reached his absolute limit. He suddenly tightened his grip on Lucien’s waist, crushing their bodies together so tightly that no gap remained.

His voice was hoarse, breathing into the youth’s ear: "Do you know what you are doing? Hmm?"

Lucien panicked; he could clearly feel the man’s explosive desire. Even the voice beside his ear was filled with such heavy suppression that it sounded as if Dominic was about to fuck him on the spot.

Dominic buried his face in the crook of Lucien’s neck, exhaling heavy, hot breaths. Gritting his teeth, he issued a low command: "Stop rubbing against me... if you still want to finish applying the medicine in peace."

Because Lucien was so deeply in character, coupled with being held all night, for a fleeting moment he unconsciously developed a bit of reliance. He softened his tone, carrying a hint of a sick person’s coquettishness: "Are you very uncomfortable?"

This damnably innocent question nearly cost Dominic the last of his sanity. For the first time, Lucien did not shy away from him, did not look at him with fearful eyes. The small hand even took a risk and lightly touched Dominic’s slightly messy hair as if to comfort him.

Dominic abruptly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot with lust as he stared fixedly at the youth.

Before Lucien could regain his wits, the man had lifted him up and directly pressed him down onto the bed. The air in the room was so hot it felt like it could combust. He leaned down, kissing intensely across the boy’s neck, shoulders, and collarbone, like a starving beast that had finally found delicious prey.

But just as his hand prepared to violently tear off the nightshirt to go further...

His gaze caught the freshly applied ointment, the bruises mingled with the bite marks he himself had left the previous night. They were like living evidence condemning his cruelty.

Dominic froze. He panted fiercely, his forehead resting against Lucien’s. Sweat dripped from his brow onto the young man’s cheek.

"You really came here to torture me..." He rasped, his breathing still rough.

Lucien looked at him in bewilderment, his misty eyes confused: "I didn’t..."

Dominic stared at him for a long time, his gaze full of both desire and a frantic possessiveness. Suddenly, he grabbed the youth’s small hand and placed it firmly over his own left chest.

Under the thin shirt, Dominic’s heartbeat was incredibly fast and forceful, as if wanting to break out of his ribcage.

He looked deep into Lucien’s eyes, whispering: "Feel it. You made it a total mess."

Lucien was stunned, his hand scorched by the heat from the man’s chest.

But inwardly, he scoffed contemptuously. Did someone like this man even know what affection was? Lucien guessed that this burning sensation was simply because Dominic had held back too much, causing his body to overheat.

Ignorant of his thoughts, Dominic tightened his grip on Lucien’s hand: "Lucien, from now on, don’t ever hope to escape my grasp. Whether it is Miles Sinclair or anyone else... don’t even dream of letting them touch you again."

Right at this moment, 000 popped out once again, its tone brimming with mockery: [Host, look. This man is on the verge of being broken by you. Tell me, with a heartbeat like this, is he trying to offer his very life up to you?]

Lucien inwardly cursed a silent "Shut up" and then returned to his act. He lowered his head slightly, allowing his soft hair to brush against Dominic’s chin. His voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, yet it was enough to shatter the last shred of Dominic’s sanity: "Don’t... don’t treat me so well. If you do... I will have delusions again."

"What delusions?" Dominic tightened his grip on the hand resting on his chest, his voice so hoarse it sounded twisted: "I have already told you, you are mine. Whatever I have marked as my property, others cannot even dream of looking at it."

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