Page 90 of Doubts of the Egoist
“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.
Coughing fits rocked Kuon’s body. His stomach clenched as if it wanted to turn inside out, but each spasm was weaker than the last. A cold sweat washed over him, making him feel filthy and in need of another shower. Where his body touched the linen, the fabric clung to him like a second skin.
Kuon felt violated and disgusted. All thoughts seemed to abandon him with the contents of his stomach. But as the ability to breathe returned, a mixture of indignation and shock tore through his raw throat, exploding out of him in a chain of broken gasps.
Kuon slumped onto his hip and tried to wipe the salt off his face with the back of his free hand, but the burning in his eyes only grew worse. His mind still refused to believe how easily Yugo had subjected him to such treatment.
A trickling sound made him look up.
Expression cold and clinical, Yugo poured some of the remaining whiskey onto his hand to wash away the traces of bile and saliva.
The Black Duke had never been good at controlling his temper. All the alcohol he’d consumed must have served as an unfortunate amplifier for his rage, which was why Kuon could somehow understand the violence. But this was such a detached, unemotional gesture that his stomach twisted in another dry heave.
His body quivered with impotence, not fear. Yugo had done many things to him before, but never had he gone this far. In a way, this felt worse than a rape. At least that had been a crime of passion, this… Kuon didn’t even know what this was.
“It’s okay.” Wet, icy fingers yanked his ankle out from under him, twisting it to the side. Kuon fell onto his back. Withthe same detachment, Yugo wrapped a hand around his nape and pressed the whiskey bottle to Kuon’s mouth.
Kuon snapped his head away. “You crazy? I can’t drink alcohol.”
“Gargle. He didn’t seem to cum down your throat, but there’s no way for me to check what he did with your mouth.”
“Have you completely lost your mind?” Kuon choked on his words and coughed some more. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”
“Disinfecting.” The persistent bottle approached Kuon’s mouth. “Gargle.”
Kuon deflected again. Squaring his jaw and stomping on his already hemorrhaging pride, he confessed, “We didn’t have sex, not in any way. Are you happy? Now let me go.”
He cringed, revolted. Humiliating himself to the point where he had to explain his intimate affairs felt more devastating than what Yugo had done to him. But he didn’t have a chance to think about it, because cruel fingers fisted his hair.
Charged with murderous intent, the air between them crackled with electricity, sending goosebumps all over Kuon’s body. Driven by rage and adrenaline, Yugo looked terrifying with a swollen cheek, broken lip, and bloody knuckles. The piercing stare of the gunmetal eyes burned into him as if trying to crack his skull and read the truth etched into his brain. Then Yugo took a mouthful from the bottle and crushed their lips together.
Liquid fire splashed into Kuon’s mouth, pearling at the corners. The alcohol-sodden tongue licked the seam of his lips, gently outlining his teeth before moving deeper. Kuon tried to spit out the spirits, but the mixture of alcohol and saliva trickleddown his throat as Yugo thrust his tongue deeper into his mouth, filling all the space. The pressure on the back of his head increased as Yugo held him tightly.
The briny taste of bile and saliva didn’t seem to bother Yugo as he continued to lick Kuon’s inner cheek. Kuon bit down hard on his tongue, adding the coppery taste to the hellish mix, hoping the pain would sober Yugo up.
The Black Duke tensed. An angry hiss crushed against the back of Kuon’s throat, but instead of pulling away, Yugo pressed their bodies flush against one another. With a glare, Yugo warned him not to bite, but to kiss back instead. Afraid he might choke, Kuon swallowed some of the tongue-burning liquid, then some more. His vision blurred, the room drifting around him. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol absorbed so quickly by his starving stomach or if it was Yugo’s touch intoxicating him.
He was still livid, but the familiar touch, scent, and taste wiped away the rest of his thoughts. He couldn’t even tell when he stopped biting and started kissing back. Not that it mattered because the places where Yugo licked burned. The liquid fire spread slowly through his head, invaded his body, and plunged him into maddening thirst.
Kuon’s heart crashed against his ribs, mind fuzzy. With his free hand, he held Yugo’s shoulder, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away.
Yugo’s face hardened, gaze frosted over. He pulled back and studied Kuon’s face with clear detachment. The hunger devouring Kuon didn’t seem to affect him at all.
“I wish I could believe you, but I don’t. You’re covered in his marks, and you dare tell me you didn’t have sex? That he, someone who drooled all over you, stopped after he finallytasted your skin? Or that you, with a body that gets hard with a single kiss, asked him to stop? Lie to me again, and I’ll gag you.”
Kuon blinked, confused, then spat out angry words, “What are you talking about, you bastard? It’s because you’re the one—”
“Shut up, whore.” The uncooperative word finally fell from Yugo’s drunken lips but Kuon’s fist knocked it back.
“I said, do not insult me. I can forgive you many things, but not this.” Kuon tried to get up, but his legs were shaking, and it was difficult to keep his balance with one hand tied behind his back. To steady himself, he grabbed the bedpost, leaving a wet print on the polished wood as his fingers slipped down.
