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

Chapter 65: Chapter 65: A Taste of Sweetness

While Miles Sinclair was busy reassuring himself with selfish calculations, in another part of the city, a sleek black Rolls-Royce quietly rolled into a private commercial district exclusively reserved for high society.

This place lacked flashy signboards and crowded masses. There were only boutiques hidden behind meticulously pruned rows of trees, along with dark glass panels reflecting the night sky that was gradually descending.

Dominic Vance parked the car in front of a small bakery. It was called small, yet the entire facade was clad in white marble, and the interior radiated a soft, honey-like golden glow.

There were no price tags, nor were there display cabinets overflowing with cakes like in ordinary shops. There was only a dark oak counter, behind which stood a baker dressed in a pristine white uniform, bending over to adjust every single line of frosting on a petite sponge cake.

Lucien stepped out of the vehicle, reflexively tugging at the hem of the thin sweater that Dominic had forced him to change into before going out. The cream-colored turtleneck sweater softly hugged his frail frame, making him look both warm and remarkably obedient. Dominic cast a fleeting glance at him, the corners of his lips twitching upward slightly, before he placed a hand on Lucien’s back and gently ushered the youth inside.

The wind chimes above the door let out a soft, melodic ring.

The baker looked up, immediately recognizing Dominic, and respectfully bowed his head in greeting. However, the older man merely waved a hand, signaling for the baker to continue his work. Dominic then turned to Lucien, jerking his chin toward the pastry counter, where a row of miniature cake samples was displayed inside transparent glass boxes.

"Make your choice."

Lucien blinked, stepping closer to the counter. He had initially assumed that Dominic would just randomly purchase a ready-made cake and take it home. Never did he expect that this man would actually drive him to a bakery simply because of a casual remark he made about liking sweet pastries.

Judging by the appearance of things, this was likely a shop under Dominic’s own purview, or perhaps one belonging to a family acquaintance. Otherwise, given Dominic’s personality, he would have dragged Lucien to some extravagantly luxurious patisserie by now.

"Do you prefer strawberry or chocolate?" The older man’s deep, resonant voice echoed right above his head.

"Um... strawberry."

"Soft cream or mousse?"

Lucien hesitated, inexplicably feeling his heart skip a beat. It was a truly bizarre sensation, as if every minuscule detail regarding his personal preferences had suddenly become of utmost importance. Lucien guessed that it was the lingering residual memories of this body affecting him, but he simply ignored it, deeming it of little consequence. Thus, he resumed his facade of obedience and replied, "Mousse. I like mousse better, it is much lighter than buttercream."

"Alright. Do you like fruit?"

"I do. But please do not add too much..."

Dominic said nothing, but he looked over at the baker and gave a slight nod. The baker immediately jotted down the notes. Then, the older man leaned down, his warm breath fanning across Lucien’s earlobe: "What about the flavor of the cake? What flavor do you like?"

Lucien shrank his neck back slightly from the ticklish sensation, his ears instantly flushing crimson: "I... I like jasmine tea or matcha flavor. And please make the cake less sweet."

"Done." Dominic straightened his posture and turned to the baker: "Did you hear that clearly? Jasmine tea flavored cake, strawberry mousse, lightly sweetened, with a moderate amount of fruit. Once it is finished, deliver it to my villa. Just a small one, and add another one in matcha flavor."

"Prepare another similar cake, but in the style of a birthday cake. Actually, no, design a few prototypes based on those requests and send them to me first, before the seventeenth of August. I will need a birthday cake on that day."

The baker bowed profoundly: "Yes, CEO Vance."

Standing by his side, Lucien stared at the man in sheer bewilderment. He never expected Dominic to remember the exact birth date he had just mentioned moments ago, let alone issue such meticulous instructions for it. An indescribable feeling flashed across his heart, but it was swiftly extinguished. This was merely a part of Dominic’s twisted game; he absolutely must not allow himself to be moved.

The baker quickly brought out a small tray, upon which sat several sample cakes cut into perfect little squares: "Sir, here are some tasting samples for you to select the inner filling."

Lucien was just about to reach out and take the small spoon, but Dominic was faster. The man picked up the spoon, scooped a piece of strawberry mousse cake, and brought it directly to Lucien’s lips: "Open your mouth."

Lucien blushed furiously. He cast a sideways glance at the baker, who had his head buried low over the counter, and then looked back at Dominic, who was staring intently at him with a gaze that brokered no refusal. He had no choice but to part his lips, obediently allowing the man to feed him.

The sweet and sour tang of the strawberry melted upon the tip of his tongue, the mousse layer as soft and smooth as velvet. Lucien unconsciously let out a soft hum, his eyes narrowing slightly in sheer culinary delight.

Dominic watched him, his eyes darkening a fraction. He raised the spoon, scooped up another piece of the jasmine tea-flavored cake, and fed it to the youth once more.

This time, a tiny speck of cream lingered on the corner of Lucien’s mouth. Before Lucien could raise a hand to wipe it away, Dominic extended his thumb and gently swiped off that pristine white smear of frosting. Then, he brought the digit to his own lips and slowly licked it clean, his gaze remaining fiercely glued to Lucien all the while.

Lucien felt as though his face was on the verge of catching fire. Internally, he was screaming like a madman; did this pervert treat a public shop like his own private bedroom? Outwardly, however, he could only bow his head low, the tips of his ears as red as freshly spilled blood.

"Well? Which filling do you choose?" Dominic asked, his tone utterly placid, acting as though he had not just done anything out of the ordinary.

"Um... the first one. The strawberry mousse..." Lucien replied in a barely audible whisper.

Dominic nodded to the baker, then grasped Lucien’s hand and pulled him further inside. "Go wait inside, the cake needs a little more time for the final touches."

Lucien shot the older man a slightly perplexed look. Did he not just instruct the baker to have it delivered to the villa? Why were they sitting down to wait now? Heavens, this man changed his mind faster than flipping a page in a book.

The baker did not overthink matters. Seeing that Dominic wished to wait, he promptly guided the two of them into a private lounge situated at the back of the shop. It was a diminutive room, yet it was decorated with exquisite refinement. There was a dark burgundy velvet sofa, warm golden lighting, and heavy dark velvet curtains drawn tight. The entire room contained only a small tea table and a one-way glass wall overlooking a miniature Japanese garden in the back.

Dominic sat down on the sofa, then, without a shred of polite hesitation, pulled Lucien onto his lap. Lucien had grown so accustomed to this routine that he no longer even bothered to resist. He merely let out a soft, internal sigh, then obediently sat still.

A short while later, the baker brought in another tasting tray. This time, it featured even smaller cake pieces meant for selecting the outer frosting. Dominic continued to personally wield the spoon to feed him. However, this time, the man deliberately let a bit of cream smudge against Lucien’s lower lip, and he made no move to wipe it away.

Dominic grasped Lucien’s chin, lifting his face, while his thumb lightly brushed against the immaculate white cream.

Then, he leaned down and sealed his lips over Lucien’s.

The kiss carried the refreshing scent of jasmine tea and the gentle sweetness of cream. Dominic’s tongue slowly pried past Lucien’s teeth, intertwining and thoroughly tasting every warm crevice within the youth’s mouth. Lucien was kissed until his mind was spinning in circles; his hands unconsciously gripped the older man’s shoulders, his entire body going as limp and soft as if he were entirely boneless.

Dominic kissed him for a very long time, incredibly deep, only deigning to let go when Lucien could barely breathe. He gazed at the teenager, whose lips were swollen red, eyes brimming with tears, and breaths coming in rapid pants, and let out a soft, satisfied chuckle.

"This frosting is quite good."

Lucien panted heavily, silently cursing this dog of a man. Was he choosing the frosting for the cake, or the frosting for his lips?

After everything had been finalized, Dominic led Lucien out of the bakery. However, the man did not immediately drive back to the estate.

Instead, he brought Lucien to a French restaurant situated on the highest floor of a commercial tower. The entire restaurant housed fewer than ten tables, separated by transparent glass partitions and lush green potted plants. The gentle, warm golden lights cast their glow over the pristine white tablecloths and the gleaming silver cutlery.

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