Page 60 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)

“You’re drunk or absolutely out of your mind if you think I’ll let you humiliate me like this.

” Kuon slapped Yugo’s hand away, even though he wanted to punch the bastard.

Ignoring the malicious squint of the gray eyes, he stood up and reached for the snap hook.

Unlike the collar, the simple mechanism had no lock.

All he had to do was pull down the metal slider that concealed the inner hook to release the chain.

He was fiddling with the secured link when a THUD and a SPLASH preceded a harsh, overpowering stench of alcohol slamming against his senses.

In a flash, Yugo reached up, grabbed the chain, and ripped it away.

The carabiner slipped from Kuon’s fingers and clicked back into the frame.

Pain flared between his forefinger and thumb as the metal gate pinched his skin.

Kuon snatched his hand away. The damaged skin turned white, then flushed red. He ignored the pain as Yugo regained control of the chain.

“Oh yes, you will let me do whatever I want. Fight or don’t, it’s up to you, but you know better than anyone how useless it is.”

The duvet under Kuon’s feet was too soft and slippery for him to get a proper foothold. Still, he lunged, grabbed the chain next to Yugo’s fist, and pulled. “Let go.”

“As you wish.” With a wry smile, Yugo dropped the chain at the same moment his foot tripped Kuon’s ankle.

Fuck… Kuon yelped in surprise as his body lost balance, falling backward. The thought that his corneas might not survive a second hit made him lose all pride.

“Yugo!” Kuon’s hand shot up reflexively. Yugo grasped his wrist preventing him from slamming against the ground. Staring into the gray eyes, Kuon let out a long, relieved breath, unsure whether to thank or curse the bastard.

Yugo looked as pale and astonished as Kuon felt. His pupils dilated, and then he laughed—loud, desperate. The nails of his free hand scratched down the side of his face, leaving red streaks. “This body… I really am fond of it. See? I don’t think I can let it get hurt. At least not beyond repair.”

Despite his deliberately cruel words, he carefully lowered Kuon onto the stinking, whiskey-soaked duvet. Yugo let go as soon as Kuon’s back rested on the silk, as if the physical contact scalded him.

The Black Duke scoffed, and the astonishment on his face morphed into longing. That’s why Kuon didn’t think about fighting when Yugo sank to his knees onto the duvet.

“Is it my fault? I made you this way. Even your reactions, I trained you to be this responsive… for myself. I never should have left you alone…”

“Don’t speak nonsense. You’re drunk,” Kuon growled, but Yugo didn’t seem to hear him. Gray eyes bored into his face as if Yugo feasted on his every expression.

“Why did you let him touch what’s mine?” Tobacco-scented fingers caressed the side of Kuon’s face, following the lazy movements of his constricted pupils.

Kuon forced himself to stay still, not knowing whether to avert the hand that had touched Mio not long ago or to let Yugo have his way, hoping his anger would die down and they could talk.

Yugo stroked his earlobe, reached for his lips, and crushed them, demanding access.

“How much did you let him do? Everything?”

Impossible… Kuon deflected his hand with his own and sat up. Discussing what he had or hadn’t done with Rick revolted him. “Stop. After all, I didn’t ask where you were last week or with whom.”

“Stop what? I haven’t even started. I just want to know how much of you he soiled, and if you are completely ruined for me, or if I can still use some parts of you.

” Yugo’s features hardened as he leaned over Kuon.

“Save some dignity and tell me where and how he touched you; otherwise, I will have to find out for myself.”

“You piss me off.” Sitting on his ass, Kuon aimed a kick at Yugo’s solar plexus, but his foot slipped along the muscular torso.

“Fine, let’s do it the hard way.” A razor-sharp smile split Yugo’s face as he fell back on an elbow, trapping Kuon’s ankle between his torso and free arm.

He seized the captured limb with both hands, long legs wrapping around Kuon’s hips and thighs, holding the younger man in a leg lock.

With a slight twist of the trapped foot and a turn of his torso, Yugo forced Kuon to roll onto his stomach.

The muscles in Kuon’s calf spasmed.

“Damn you, it hurts!” Kuon slammed his palm against the ground twice, the same way he used to during their sparring sessions. “Yugo!”

“Where did he touch you?” The alcohol-sodden breath swept across Kuon’s cheek a moment after the leg lock broke, and Yugo piled on top of him.

The soft hair of his strong forearm tickled Kuon’s chin as the man wrapped his arm around his neck and pulled back.

Kuon’s spine screamed in a sharp arch. Palms against the floor, he groaned.

Every muscle in his body tensed, trying to redistribute the strain, but as he began to adjust, Yugo’s ass collapsed onto his.

A hot chest plastered over Kuon’s back, knees jammed into his sides. “Last chance. Tell me.”

Kuon’s hipbones ground against the floor. He thought that even the thickness of the duvet wouldn’t protect them from bruising.

When Yugo groped his chafed chest with a salacious hand, Kuon elbowed back. As if expecting this, Yugo chuckled, releasing his grip on Kuon’s throat.

Unsupported, Kuon’s spine unwound forward, and his attack got tangled in Yugo’s defense. His arm was wrenched up his back, knuckles pressed against spine. Metal clanked as a cold chain wrapped around his wrist, securing it.

“I told you not to fight. You’ll only hurt yourself,” Yugo said in a considerate tone, as if he wasn’t the one causing the pain.

Even though Yugo let go of his caught wrist, Kuon couldn’t get his hand down.

He growled in frustration as the chain between his neck and wrist tightened, and the cruel leather dug into his throat as he tried to free himself.

Feeling like a rabbit caught in a snare, he panted through his nose.

All of his senses were focused on the gentle, intimate caresses of the shameless hand that wandered across his raw chest, exploring the taut muscles of his neck until it finally reached his unshaven chin.

The intrusive fingers forced their way into his mouth and rubbed over his tongue, carrying the sweet bitterness of alcohol and tobacco.

“How much of him did you let in here?”

Kuon saw red. His jaw clenched, teeth sinking into Yugo’s knuckles.

The Black Duke cursed, but his fingers remained deep in Kuon’s throat. “Remove your teeth from my hand, or I’ll put a muzzle on you.”

Kuon bit harder, iron blooming on his tongue. He squirmed and tried to roll over. When that didn’t work, he arched back, trying to headbutt Yugo’s temple with the side of his head. It was a ridiculous attempt since Yugo’s fingers were still in his mouth and controlled most of his head movements.

“Bad boy,” Yugo said and pulled on the leash, arching him backward until every muscle in his back shook with strain.

Kuon felt like a dog on a choke chain. His vision blurred with black spots.

His heart pounded in his ears, muffling all sounds.

An extra loop of the chain, tied around his bound wrist, further restricted his mobility.

To keep the pressure away from his windpipe and head, Kuon pressed his free palm against the slippery duvet, giving up on the fight. A groan vibrated in his throat, but only a hoarse wheeze slipped through Yugo’s fingers.

Yugo leaned in, burning his neck with his breath. “Don’t fight me, and I won’t hurt you. The more you fight, the more painful it will be, but your resistance won’t change anything.”

Kuon tried to ask whether Yugo’s bruised ego made him do that, but he just slurped something unintelligible between the intrusive fingers. Saliva with a coppery tang coated his chin and trickled down his neck.

With his other hand, Yugo secured Kuon’s chin and pressed on the jaw joints as one would to snatch trash from a dog’s mouth. Kuon’s teeth unclenched, giving the Black Duke full access.

With clinical attention, Yugo palpated the inner walls of his mouth, stretched his cheeks to the sides, and rubbed under his tongue as if expecting to find something there.

Kuon gagged as two fingers crept down his throat and pressed against a sensitive spot at the root of his tongue.

His body convulsed; spasms rolled up his gullet.

“It’s not me who hurts you, but your stubbornness. Tell me where he touched you, and I’ll stop.”

Sour saliva dripped from the corners of Kuon’s lips and down Yugo’s wrist. He had no idea that humans could salivate so much, but the harder Yugo pressed, the more liquid dripped out.

Tears blurred Kuon’s vision as he tried to shake Yugo off himself.

His nose got clogged, forcing him to pant through his mouth.

He retched, then again and again. Driven by adrenaline that seemed to have replaced his blood, his heart tripled its rate.

“Relax and let it all out,” Yugo whispered into Kuon’s ear, cooling the sweat-slicked skin with each exhalation.

Kuon wanted to tell him to go fuck himself.

When another spasm seized his stomach, a mixture of bitter bile, blood, and saliva splashed across the light gray linen, staining it a rusty yellow.

The slick fingers rubbed his tongue, making Kuon twist and writhe under Yugo’s solid weight.

He vomited again and again until only dry heaves followed.

“Looks clean. I’m glad he didn’t cum down your throat. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to enjoy your mouth, and you know how fond I am of it.”

The fingers pulled back, clearing his airway. Before Kuon could process the change, Yugo rose, leaving him on the soiled silk, gasping for his next breath and fighting his bodily reactions.