Encountering a Snake - Chapter 13

v3c13

Although he had applied ointment, it was still not enough preparation. Liu Yan felt a sharp pain, so intense that his mind went blank, leaving only the sensation of pain!

Pain!

But this was pain he was willing to endure, so he bore it without complaint. In his past life, too many obstacles had kept him from truly being with Yi Mo. Their intimacy always turned into a torment, hurting both himself and the other. It left only regret and longing.

So in this life, even though he was pretending to be a fool and could have done anything as he pleased, Yi Mo had never truly made a move—apart from that one interrupted “coming-of-age” ceremony.

Both of them had been heavy-hearted in their previous lives, and now, with memories of three lifetimes combined, Liu Yan had developed a sharp and seasoned insight into the world. He could clearly see that Yi Mo’s restraint toward the “fool” wasn’t because of disinterest, but out of fear.

This millennia-old, carefree demon had finally learned fear.

It was all because, in their previous life, they had pushed themselves too hard in this matter. Their sharpness had been dulled, leaving both of them with bloodied scars.

In their first life, their intimacy had been sweet and harmonious, never once unpleasant. Perhaps it was because it had been too good that, in the second life, those past memories turned into torment. A torment so great that even Yi Mo grew fearful and dared not act recklessly.

By the time they reached this third life, Yi Mo treated the “fool” with extreme caution, avoiding physical contact whenever possible.

Thinking of this, Liu Yan no longer felt that the pain in his body was so unbearable. Instead, his heart hurt even more—so real and piercing that it couldn’t be faked.

The connection between them emitted a faint metallic scent, which Yi Mo, ever sensitive, immediately noticed. His heart tightened, and instinctively, he began to withdraw. He didn’t want to hurt him—he never had, not before and certainly not now. How could he bear it?

This was someone he had only finally gained after two hundred years of tribulations. Someone he could finally embrace. A single injury was enough to make his heart ache, let alone seeing blood.

As sharp as Yi Mo was, his mind faltered at this moment, completely forgetting that withdrawing now would only cause Liu Yan more pain.

Sure enough, as soon as he moved, Liu Yan cried out, “Don’t move.”

Yi Mo froze immediately, realizing how foolish he’d been. Since meeting this person, he seemed to have been making mistakes constantly.

One wrong step, then another, until he lost everything in the end.

But he wasn’t unwilling. Losing felt sharp and painful, yet also joyful—a pain filled with pleasure.

Yi Mo leaned down to kiss Liu Yan’s pale face, then reached out to gently massage his waist, speaking softly, “Relax.”

“I want to,” Liu Yan replied, and then, as if thinking of something, he chuckled and whispered in his ear, “Shrink a bit, and I’ll hurt less.”

Yi Mo pinched his waist. “Now you’re complaining? Don’t you like it?”

“…” Liu Yan clung to him, biting his ear and murmuring, “But it hurts.”

Yi Mo held him, his lower body staying still, though his words were anything but restrained. In a low voice, he murmured, “You’re the one who ‘deflowered’ me.”

“…” Liu Yan, whose face had been pale, now blushed deeply and buried his face in Yi Mo’s shoulder, too embarrassed to respond.

The two of them stayed connected, unmoving, but clinging tightly to each other. Whispering shameless words, they were truly affectionate and intimate.

Yet the more embarrassed Liu Yan grew, the more delighted Yi Mo became. He reached down to touch their connection point, lifting his hand to find it stained with blood. His heart ached, but he couldn’t help teasing. Leaning close to Liu Yan’s ear, he said, “See? You really bled.”

Liu Yan immediately bit down on his neck, stopping him from saying any more.

But Yi Mo wasn’t one to let him off so easily. At some point, he conjured a white handkerchief, wiping the blood from his fingers and then dabbing it against the place where they were tightly joined. The cloth became stained, and Yi Mo showed it to Liu Yan, who refused to look no matter what. Yi Mo then tucked the handkerchief away and said, “You really did bleed. Tomorrow, we’ll have Shen Jue buy an old hen to make some soup and nourish you.”

Liu Yan, both ashamed and angry, dared not move recklessly due to the pain below. He could only pretend he hadn’t heard anything.

“Qingxuan,” Yi Mo said, sticking out his tongue to gently lick Liu Yan’s ear while his voice deepened. “Call me husband.”

“…”

“Xiao Jiu,” Yi Mo persisted, sucking on the earlobe in front of him, his actions causing Liu Yan to tremble uncontrollably in his arms. Even his most intimate parts seemed to respond, contracting slightly. Holding back his pleasure, Yi Mo continued his coaxing, “Call me husband.”

“…”

“Fool…” Yi Mo teased.

Unable to hold back, Liu Yan snapped, “Shut up!” His face was already bright red.

“Call me husband.” Yi Mo wasn’t one to be deterred so easily. He blew gently into Liu Yan’s ear, coaxing again and again, “Call me husband.”

“…”

“Call me husband…” Yi Mo’s voice dropped even lower, becoming irresistibly seductive. His deliberate provocation made Liu Yan burn with frustration. His whole body was heating up, yet Yi Mo still wouldn’t let him off. As he spoke, his hands roamed over Liu Yan’s body, kneading and squeezing like dough, alternating between fast and slow, light and firm. He even bent down to nibble at Liu Yan’s reddened nipples, sucking noisily.

Liu Yan’s temples throbbed painfully, the veins on his neck bulging. His mind was foggy, and in a moment of carelessness, he finally gave in.

A faint, mosquito-like whisper escaped him: “Husband.” It was so soft it was almost inaudible, but his toes curled in embarrassment, his whole body breaking out in a fine sweat.

Inside him, Yi Mo swelled even larger, making Liu Yan ache unbearably. He couldn’t help but shift his body slightly, causing his soft and tight walls to clench around Yi Mo’s length. Yi Mo closed his eyes in satisfaction, savoring the subtle contractions, and murmured, “Don’t rush. You’re so warm and tight—it feels wonderful.”

“Pfft,” Liu Yan scoffed inwardly, thinking, You’re the impatient one.

Yi Mo kissed him again, pressing his lips firmly against Liu Yan’s for a long time. Only when he was satisfied did he say, “You’ve been so obedient tonight. I’ll take good care of you.”

“…” Liu Yan turned his face away, waiting a moment before countering, “You scoundrel!”

“Truly bad?” Yi Mo lifted his hips, gauging that it was about right, carefully raising him slightly before lowering him again.

The shaft slid through Liu Yan’s body, like opening new ground, and Liu Yan let out a soft groan, collapsing onto him, unmoving.

“Uncomfortable?” Yi Mo asked, lifting his waist again. This time, he fully withdrew, pulling out completely. The thick, veiny shaft, wet with blood and melting ointment, appeared truly terrifying, as if it were a blood-soaked weapon.

As soon as he pulled out, blood began to flow freely from Liu Yan’s body.

The bright red blood trailed down his white thighs like a thin red thread, twisting and turning under the flickering candlelight. It resembled a long, slender serpent spreading its sweetness between his legs.

It was strangely beautiful, like a maiden’s first bloom—bewitching and captivating.

Yi Mo quickly averted his gaze, not daring to look again. He feared he might lose control, swallowing the man before him whole.

Kneeling on the bed, Liu Yan looked down at the blood on his legs. He hadn’t expected it to bleed so much, though he didn’t feel much pain.

Perhaps it was because the area was rich in capillaries; even a small wound could appear dramatic.

Lifting his head, Liu Yan knelt back onto Yi Mo’s lap and asked, “Are you scared?”

Yi Mo didn’t respond. He dipped his fingers into the ointment, inserting them into the slick entrance. The slightly opened passage wasn’t hard to enter, and the wound wasn’t severe. With a touch of magic, the pain soon faded completely.

Seventy years ago, under a starry night just like this, someone knelt on the bed while another invaded their body from behind. The intruder was naked, the only adornment being a dagger plunged into his chest. The one being invaded bore no wounds, yet blood flowed copiously between his legs. It wasn’t his blood but the intruder’s, who, unable to harm him completely, guided the blood from his chest wound to their point of union as lubrication.

That night, from start to finish, blood flowed uninterrupted from his heart, moistening the other’s body.

Liu Yan grasped the terrifying object, carefully applying the ointment again, smearing it meticulously. Once finished, he raised his hips, aligning the shaft with his body, using the only place that could accommodate and bear it to swallow him once more.

“Yi Mo,” Liu Yan restrained his hand, stopping him from moving. “I’m not afraid of pain.”

Liu Yan spoke softly, pressing his lips against his, their teeth grazing. Slowly, he moved his hips, allowing him to go deeper inside. In a whisper, he said:

“I want you to come in… to enter my body… so you won’t have to hurt anymore…”

Yi Mo remained silent. He held him close, kissing him tenderly. His hands trailed down Liu Yan’s spine, over his waist and hips, gripping him tightly, lifting him slightly before plunging him back down onto his base. Rising and falling, each thrust deeper and heavier than the last. The tight, warm passage clenched around him, contracting and twisting as if to drain his soul, drawing him in again and again, each time more intoxicating than the last.

Liu Yan moaned, his body completely filled, and the pain seemed to melt away, replaced by the sheer joy of fullness. Yi Mo knew his body so well, striking exactly where it mattered. After about a dozen thrusts, he found the spot, hitting it every time. Like a sharp blade, each thrust pried him open slightly, forcing its way in and grazing that point mercilessly, driving in with wild abandon.

Liu Yan bounced in his arms, his eyes gradually misting over, a glossy sheen covering them. His erection stood tall, leaking fluid continuously, smearing against Yi Mo’s skin.

“I… can’t…” he cried hoarsely, gripping Yi Mo’s shoulders tightly. He didn’t know whether he wanted him to go harder or stop altogether, shaking his head desperately. The sensation of that thing inside him was like a whip, lashing and stirring. His insides felt simultaneously sore and itchy, craving more with each thrust.

“Feeling good?” Yi Mo smiled, capturing his gasping lips in a fierce kiss. Releasing him, Yi Mo’s breathing was just as ragged. In one swift motion, he flipped Liu Yan over, pressing him beneath. Grabbing Liu Yan’s ankles, he lifted them onto his shoulders and pulled a soft pillow to cushion his waist. The new position left Liu Yan’s hips suspended, legs wide open, presenting himself entirely.

Yi Mo leaned in, aiming his thick, crimson shaft at the wet, parted entrance, and thrust in violently.

“Ah…” Liu Yan cried out, trying to straighten his legs, but Yi Mo pressed them down even further. The sensation was overwhelming, like his insides were being pierced through. Yet, seeing the passionate look in Yi Mo’s eyes, all the discomfort transformed into ecstasy—he was stunning. The way he looked consumed by lust was breathtaking. Go further, become crazier, more intense; it didn’t matter if it broke him.

With this thought, Liu Yan wrapped his arms around Yi Mo’s neck, blurting out, “It’s so wet.” Below, everything was drenched, impossible to distinguish between the ointment and other fluids. Each thrust produced wet, sticky sounds, echoing in the room.

“It’s not just wet… it’s scorching,” Yi Mo replied, quickening his pace.

“…Do you like it?” Liu Yan asked, trembling slightly, tightening around him.

“I love it. It feels amazing,” Yi Mo answered, his voice low and husky, unbearably seductive. Liu Yan shuddered, squeezing even tighter. Yi Mo almost couldn’t hold back but didn’t want to end this bliss too soon. Gripping his waist, he whispered, “Don’t clench so hard,” as if in defiance, he thrust even harder, pounding Liu Yan until he cried.

Tears streamed down Liu Yan’s cheeks, his mouth opening, but only moans escaped. His cock, standing painfully erect, was close to climax. With every thrust, it twitched, leaking copious fluids.

“Call me husband,” Yi Mo demanded, his tone as fierce as his thrusts, his entire being like a raging storm intent on devouring Liu Yan.

Liu Yan sobbed, shaking his head. He’d already called him once before and refused to yield again. Yet his body ached all over—his erection throbbed painfully while his insides felt numb and swollen. He was too weak to resist, choking back tears as he clung to Yi Mo, finally surrendering.

“Husband,” he whispered.

The word barely left his lips before he moaned again. A fleeting thought crossed his mind—was he turning into a woman, being thoroughly ravished by a man? This absurd notion oddly comforted him. Without Yi Mo’s coaxing, he pleaded openly, “Husband, please go easy on me…”

Before he could finish, Yi Mo sealed his lips in a deep kiss. Desperation brought out the best in people; even demons had to bow in defeat.

Initially, Yi Mo only intended to torment him, a mix of teasing and tenderness—something he’d mastered. Yet, somehow, the tables turned, leaving him maddened and on the verge of breaking.

Feeling his release approaching, Yi Mo gave in, accepting defeat. He thrust deeply, savoring the exquisite tightness of Liu Yan’s body. Whispering under his breath, “That mouth of yours…” Even as he climaxed, he reached down to grasp Liu Yan’s neglected, purple-tinged erection. A few strokes later, they came together.