The Tyrant's Secret fetish-Chapter 21

Ye Jun

I felt this twist in my gut, anger bubbling up hot and fast because no way was he gonna walk out after all that buildup, after the confessions and the kisses and the fingering that actually felt amazing. "Bad idea? You were the one pushing for it! Fine, if you’re gonna be a whiny bitch about it, I’ll suck you off. But don’t think this lets you off the hook."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch arm like he was challenging me. "Whiny bitch? Says the guy who can’t even take a dick. Go on then, prove you’re not all talk."

I shoved him back harder, straddling his thighs quick before he could move, and leaned down, wrapping my hand around his base fuck, it really was big, thick and heavy in my palm. "Shut up. Just sit there and take it."

I licked the tip first, salty and slick from the lube and precum, and he hissed, hand coming to my hair but not pushing, just gripping. I took him in slowly, as much as I could without gagging, bobbing messy because I was pissed and turned on and everything in between. He groaned, head falling back. "Fuck.. yeah, like that. Deeper."

I pulled off with a pop, glaring up. "Deeper? You can barely fit in my ass but you want deeper in my mouth? Make up your mind."

"Shut up and suck," he growled, pushing my head down gently but firm, and I did, hollowing my cheeks, tongue working the underside, hand stroking what I couldn’t fit. He was thrusting up shallow now, moaning low, and it was hot, hearing him fall apart, but part of me was still fuming because this wasn’t what I wanted, not really.

"Faster," he muttered, fingers tightening in my hair. "God, your mouth.... "

I hummed around him, vibrating, and he bucked, cursing loud. "Shit Ye-jun I’m close... "

I kept going, faster, sloppier, drool everywhere, and then he tensed, groaning deep as he came, hot spurts down my throat that I swallowed because what else, pulling off coughing a little, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

He sagged back, breathing ragged, eyes closed for a second, and I waited, expecting something. A kiss, a thanks, him returning the favor, anything. But he just opened his eyes, looked at me blank, then stood up abruptly, grabbing his clothes from the floor.

"What the fuck?" I said, voice rough from sucking him. "You’re leaving? Just like that?"

He pulled on his boxers, not looking at me. "Yeah. This was... whatever. Night, Ye-jun."

I scrambled up, naked and sticky, grabbing his arm hard. "Hey! You can’t just cum in my mouth and bail without even fuck, at least say something! Aftercare or whatever, you asshole!"

He shook me off, buttoning his shirt fast. "Aftercare? We’re not dating. This was a hookup gone wrong. Go sleep it off."

Gone wrong? The words stung worse than the failed sex, and I felt this hot prick behind my eyes, anger turning into something sharper, sadder. "A hookup? That’s all? After everything tonight the fight, the confessions? You’re just gonna walk out like I’m some random?"

He paused at the door, back to me, shoulders tense. "What do you want me to say? That it was great? It wasn’t. You couldn’t even forget it. Baby bro, See you around."

The door clicked shut behind him, and I stood there, staring at it, dick still half-hard, body aching from the fingering and the almost, heart pounding like it’d burst. "Fuck you!" I yelled at the empty room, but it came out choked, and I sank back onto the couch, pulling my knees up, burying my face because shit, why did it hurt so much? We’d been circling this for a while now , all the tension and the looks and the stupid arguments that felt like foreplay, and now he just leaves? Like I wasn’t worth sticking around for?

I laughed, this bitter, wet sound, because of course, that’s how it goes get vulnerable, admit it’s your first with a guy, and the guy bolts when it doesn’t go perfect. Pathetic. I was pathetic, sitting here naked in a VIP room and he was probably downstairs already, grabbing another drink, I was the one who was supposed to be making him feel like this, how dare he reduce my pride to nothing. I’d never imagined to do such with a guy and now I’m doing this with him and for him and because of him and this is all I get. Fuck!!

My phone buzzed somewhere in my pants on the floor, but I ignored it, wiping my face rough because no, I wasn’t crying over this, over him. But fuck, it felt like a punch to the gut, the way he’d looked at me blank after coming, like I was disposable. "Asshole," I muttered to myself, grabbing my clothes finally, pulling them on shaky. "Big dick, small heart. Should’ve known."

I flopped back down once dressed, staring at the ceiling, the bass from downstairs thumping like a reminder that life went on even when yours felt like shit. Part of me wanted to chase after him, yell in his face, make him admit he felt something, but nah, fuck that. Let him run. I’d see him tomorrow or whenever.

But right now? I curled up on the couch, eyes stinging, and let the tears come quiet because no one was here to see. Tomorrow I’d continue my plan to make him obsessed with him, make jokes about his giant ego matching his dick, but tonight? Tonight I just felt broken.

I must’ve dozed off eventually, because next thing I knew light was filtering through the blinds, head pounding from the hangover, body sore in places I didn’t want to think about. I sat up groaning, checking my phone missed calls from who knows, texts from friends asking where I disappeared to last night. Nothing from Si-woo. Of course.

"Fuck him," I muttered, standing up stiff, splashing water on my face from the little sink in the corner. The mirror showed me looking wrecked red eyes, hickeys on my neck, hair a mess. Great. Walk of shame time.

I slipped out the VIP room quiet, music off now, club empty except for cleaners mopping up spills. Downstairs, out the door into the morning light that stung my eyes, and I hailed a cab, slumping in the back seat telling the driver my address.

Thinking what-if-we’d-gotten-it-right. I slid down.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but eventually I got out, dried off, crawled up to my home even though it was almost morning. Sleep came fitful, dreams of him leaving over and over, and when I woke up hours later, the anger was back, sharper.