From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 709: Micah Learns a Lesson

Micah had never experienced such an overwhelming surge of emotion before. It was a stark contrast to the sensations he was accustomed to, and he felt as though he was discovering a new realm of feeling. There was no doubt that it felt far better than his own touch.

Clyde’s large hand travelled from the top of Micah’s arousal down to the base and then back up again. As Clyde quickened his movements, the intensity of the sensation escalated, sending Micah into a whirlwind of ecstasy. Bright flashes of white filled his vision, as if stars were dancing around him, until they created a cosmic explosion in his mind that formed an entire solar system.

When he finally regained awareness of his surroundings, he noticed that the man who had given him the sweet ecstasy had leaned back, gazing at him with a look that was almost predatory, filled with desire. Micah’s chest heaved as he breathed heavily, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, and his mouth slightly ajar.

Clyde, meanwhile, was grinding his molars, struggling to maintain control. Micah’s pants and underwear were bunched down around his knees, revealing his pale, smooth thighs. The aftermath of their earlier actions was smeared across Micah’s flat abdomen, and half of his t-shirt was hiked up, exposing his chest. In every sense, Micah was a complete mess because of him.

The visual assault was nearly too much for Clyde to handle, yet he recognised that this moment was not the right setting for their first intimate encounter. He felt the tension in his hands, where the veins bulged from clenching too tightly. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head away from the overwhelming temptation, moving stiffly toward the small bathroom. He soaked a towel and returned to gently wipe Micah’s body, his hand trembling with each stroke.

Micah, still in a daze, began to feel something had slipped away from his mind. Slowly, the gears in his head moved until his mind caught up with what was amiss.

His gaze drifted from Clyde’s face down to his lower body, where the fabric of Clyde’s pants was taut and stretched, revealing a prominent shape.

With an innocent expression, Micah reached out towards it and said, "Let me return the favour. That looks painful..."

Clyde jerked back, catching Micah’s wrist in a firm grip as he warned, "Don’t..." he said through gritted teeth. "I can’t promise I could stop..."

Micah looked at him in confusion, asking, "So? Is there a reason you should?"

"Micah," Clyde growled in a low voice.

Yet, Micah had already sat up, pressing his foot against Clyde’s torso, challenging him. "You’re still thinking about waiting? After what happened to me? My accident didn’t teach you a lesson? No one knows what might happen tomorrow!"

Clyde closed his eyes, his expression a mix of anguish and resolve. "I know... I know that more than anyone else!" Opening his eyes, he locked onto Micah’s gaze.

"So? What are you waiting for?" Micah pressed, applying more pressure with his foot. His eyes sparkled with mischief, eager to invoke a reaction from Clyde.

Having tasted the thrill of desire, Micah was now eager to explore more. If his hands felt this good, he wondered what the rest of Clyde would feel like. He had long suppressed memories of his first life, forming a coping mechanism that erased thoughts of the four men from his history. Now, after countless lifetimes longing for Clyde’s touch, he felt as if this intimacy was a first for him, each moment a new experience.

Meanwhile, Clyde felt his good intentions had been thrown down the drain by this ungrateful brat. He wanted? Sure, he would give it to him.

The corner of Clyde’s lips stretched upward, and a dangerous glint flashed in his pale blue eyes.

Micah’s heart raced at the sight, but there was no turning back now. Clyde seized Micah’s playful foot and placed it on his shoulder, using his other hand to undo the zipper of his pants. The sound echoed through the room, and Micah felt his back hit the bed with a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

Clyde leaned over, guiding Micah’s hand toward the heat radiating from him. The touch sent a rush of warmth to Micah’s cheeks, as he realised the stark difference between them. Could it even fit? The thought flickered through his mind, but soon he became captivated by Clyde’s reactions, feeling a fire ignite within him.

He was determined to tease Clyde, to see just how much he could provoke him. The realisation that Clyde wanted him as much as he desired him filled Micah with glee, but he soon found he had expected too much of himself. His hand grew tired, aching with exertion. Even the palm had turned red. Despite this, Clyde’s need remained unsatisfied.

Micah gritted his teeth; it was a matter of pride now. He was determined to make Clyde see stars just as he had. However, with every movement, Clyde’s reactions began to wane, and Micah’s rationality started to fray. He wriggled free from Clyde’s shoulder, sitting up again and pushing him down onto the bed.

Clyde’s confusion morphed into wide-eyed realisation as he grasped Micah’s shoulders to halt him.

However, Micah, irritated by the unyielding standing tent in his sight, felt defiance surge within him. Seriously? He had worked this hard and this soaring dragon stood proudly, glaring at him, even mocking him.

The last thread of his rationality snapped.

Shoving Clyde’s hands away, he leaned down, his lips brushing the tips of Clyde’s desire. A hoarse sound escaped Clyde’s throat, causing Micah’s ears to perk up with intrigue. He stuck out his tongue, teasingly licking the tip.

He glanced at the man’s face, finally content with what he saw. Hmph! This annoying man with his superior self-control had thought he could tolerate his teasing? Hehe, he would make him see the stars in less than a minute.

With newfound confidence, Micah playfully treated it like a delicious popsicle, savouring every moment. The more he heard Clyde’s reactions and saw him lose control, the more exhilarated he became, completely forgetting the danger of the flames he was toying with.

Suddenly, Clyde pushed him back, shifting their positions with surprising strength. Micah yelped in surprise, but one glance at Clyde’s expression made him realise he was done for.

The torment that followed caused Micah to deeply regret his earlier actions. The skin of his inner thighs burned with chafing, and tears streamed down his face from the overwhelming sensations. The more he pleaded for Clyde to stop, the more relentless Clyde became in his actions.

Micah lost track of how many times he had soared to ecstatic heights and descended back into a realm of overwhelming sensation. He swore to himself that he would never let Clyde touch him again! He would be less than a dog if he teased Clyde, lest he end up in this torturous situation once more.

As if a door to an entirely new world had suddenly been opened before him, Clyde found himself unable to pull away from Micah. Every moment felt intoxicating, every small reaction drawing him in deeper. It was as if he had discovered something he had long been searching for without even realising it. He lingered, unwilling to let the moment end.

But eventually, he noticed something was wrong. Micah’s expression had gone blank. The young man lay there quietly, his eyes unfocused, his body no longer responding the way it had before. The stillness finally broke through Clyde’s daze.

Clyde paused. The haze in his mind cleared just enough for reason to return. A trace of guilt flickered through his chest. Without another word, he carefully gathered Micah into his arms and carried him to the bathroom.

The room was quiet except for the soft sound of running water.

Clyde moved with surprising patience as he cleaned both of them. His movements were slow and careful, as if afraid that the boy might regret their intimacy or protest if he was too rough. Warm water ran down while he wiped away the traces of their earlier intensity.

Once they were clean, Clyde wrapped Micah in a towel and carried him back to the lounge.

He opened one of the cabinets where he kept spare clothing for emergencies. It had always been a practical habit, long days at work sometimes required a change of clothes. Today, however, that habit proved useful in a very different way.

He dressed Micah first.

The clothes were far too big for the young man. The shirt slipped off one shoulder slightly, the sleeves hanging past his wrists, while the trousers sat loosely around his waist. The fabric draped over Micah’s slender frame in an almost careless way.

Yet Clyde found himself staring. The sight stirred something deep inside him.

The oversized clothes made Micah look smaller somehow, almost fragile. At the same time, the fact that the clothes were his, Clyde’s, sent a strange sense of satisfaction through his chest.

It looked as though Micah belonged to him. The thought lingered in his mind longer than it should have.

After dressing the boy, Clyde changed his own clothes. He replaced his earlier suit with a fresh one from the same cabinet, adjusting the cuffs and smoothing the fabric with practised ease.

When he finished, he returned to Micah’s side.

The young man had already drifted off to sleep, exhaustion finally claiming him. His breathing had grown slow and steady, his face soft and peaceful in the quiet of the room.

Clyde looked down at him for a long moment. Then he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Micah’s forehead. It was brief, almost hesitant. But the tenderness in the gesture lingered.

Clyde straightened up afterwards, adjusting his tie until it sat perfectly in place. Once satisfied with his appearance, he stepped out of the lounge and returned to the main office as if nothing unusual had happened.

A short while later, the assistant entered the room.

The first thing he noticed was Clyde’s clothing.

The boss had worn a different suit earlier that morning. The assistant clearly remembered it, it had been dark grey with a subtle pattern. Yet now, in the middle of the afternoon, Clyde stood before him in an entirely different outfit from head to toe. A fresh suit. A different tie. Even his shirt had changed.

The assistant blinked in confusion.

The second thing he noticed was the atmosphere. There was something... different about Clyde.

A faint glow seemed to surround him, not literally, but the feeling was unmistakable. The usually cold and distant boss appeared unusually refreshed, almost as if he had just returned from the most satisfying rest of his life.

The change was subtle but impossible to ignore. Then the assistant noticed something else. Micah was gone.

The spoiled young master who had been lingering around the office earlier was nowhere in sight. Normally, Micah’s presence was impossible to miss, his voice, his attitude, his casual way of occupying space as if everything belonged to him.

But now the office felt strangely quiet. The assistant’s eyes unconsciously drifted toward the lounge door.

If the young master wasn’t here... then perhaps he was resting inside?

Before his thoughts could continue, Clyde noticed the glance.

His expression instantly hardened. The warm, satisfied aura vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Clyde’s gaze turned sharp, cold enough to make the assistant stiffen where he stood.

Without giving him time to ask questions, Clyde began issuing instructions one after another in a firm voice. The list of tasks grew longer with every sentence, document to review, meetings to arrange, reports to deliver.

By the time Clyde finished speaking, the assistant found himself assigned to an entirely new series of work that would likely keep him busy for the rest of the afternoon.

"Understood, sir," the assistant replied quickly, not daring to look toward the lounge again.

He left the office soon after.

The moment the door closed behind him, silence returned.

Clyde sat back down at his desk and resumed working as if nothing unusual had occurred. Papers were signed, emails reviewed, and calls answered with his usual calm authority.

Everything appeared normal. Yet unbeknownst to himself, a faint smile lingered on his lips the entire time.