198: Side story 2 He moved only his hips, going in and out. Every time he thrust deep, he seemed to feel his own member raising its head beneath Dane's musclecovered belly. "There, there, there, ah!" Dane let out rough moans. Semen rose to the tip of his member. Unable to contain his excitement, Greyson hurriedly raised his body. With their lower parts still connected, he gripped Dane's chest tightly. Now, now, now, now. "Ahhhaaa…" With an exclamation boiling up from deep within, his movement suddenly stopped. His thick body trembled intermittently as sweat flowed down. From his deeply buried member, semen poured out with throbbing pulses. His bodily fluids filled Ambrosia to overflowing. Feeling satisfaction and faint emptiness simultaneously, the corners of his mouth crumbled. Heh heh, heh, letting out meaningless laughter, Greyson remained still for a moment before directing his hazy gaze downward. Dane's face suddenly entered his vision. Greyson was about to laugh "heh." Just as he opened his mouth to call his name, something suddenly caught his eye. "Cough." Along with a weak coughing sound, blood poured out of Dane's mouth. Huh? "Daaaaane!" Greyson's laughing face changed to terror. He screamed in horror, but he had forgotten. The fact that Virginia was still inside Ambrosia. The moment his member, which had been slightly withdrawn, made a dull thudding sound and stabbed deep inside due to Greyson's sudden movement. "…?" Suddenly something splattered all over Greyson's face. Flustered, he reflexively closed his eyes and contorted his brow. There was quite a lot of it. Having been drenched in the somewhat slippery, sticky bodily fluid, Greyson could finally see the world again only after it had settled down. Nothing had changed. Dane, who was sprawled out pale and spitting blood, and Greyson, who was sitting with his member inserted in his body – everything was the same. Except that the semen Dane had ejaculated had not only thoroughly soaked Greyson but was sprayed here and there on his own body and all over the bed. "Dane…!" Greyson turned pale and grabbed his head. But he was the only one who could resolve this situation right now. Not knowing what to do, he moved busily – urgently wiping off the bodily fluids stuck everywhere, organizing Dane's clothes, operating the ventilation fan to purify the air. Meanwhile, Dane remained half-unconscious and completely limp, not moving at all. 2 Pleasure comes with a price. Dane lay in bed with a deathly pale face, painfully learning this life lesson. "What happened here?" The pale doctor asked in a somewhat elevated voice. It was natural for him to be surprised when a patient he thought was progressing smoothly suddenly vomited blood overnight and developed dark bruises all over his side. "You should have just been lying in bed, so how did this happen? Did you fall or something? Tell me what happened!" The doctor pressed Dane in frustration. Neither Dane nor Greyson, who was watching nervously from behind, could say that this was too harsh for a patient. Because it was true that they had done something they couldn't bring themselves to say out loud. We took painkillers and had enthusiastic sex, and this is what happened. Instead of that truth, Dane slowly blinked his unfocused, hazy eyes and muttered. "I was feeling stuffy, so I exercised a bit." "Exercise? My goodness, with this body? You didn't hit your head, did you?" At those words, Greyson's eyes flashed. Completely unaware of the murderous intent of "how dare you, to my Dane," the doctor continued speaking. "At this rate, your hospitalization will only be extended. If you keep moving around recklessly because you're feeling stuffy, you might end up lying like this for the rest of your life. Is that what you want? Huh?" "For life?" Perhaps only that word from the doctor's speech particularly caught his ear, as Greyson suddenly asked. Dane didn't miss his ears perking up once either. "I won't do it again." At the answer that flowed out with difficulty, Greyson became dejected again. This bastard, still not giving up. Dane lay silently, letting the doctor's nagging go in one ear and out the other. Finally, when he left and they were alone together, it was Greyson who spoke first. "I'm sorry." At his thoroughly dejected appearance as he apologized, Dane's heart immediately softened. "It's okay, this is what I wanted…" "Still." Greyson continued in a still subdued voice. "It's because I was too rough. I should have been gentle…" "I don't like gentle." Dane immediately cut off his words. When Greyson finally raised his head, Dane chuckled and said. "If I liked that kind of thing, would I have used whips or handcuffs? You should know by now." That was true. Dane much preferred rough sex over slow and sweet. Naturally, he had been very satisfied with this sex too. The side effects were just a bit severe. "More than that." When he frowned at a memory that came to mind belatedly, he could see Greyson immediately tense up. Instead of reassuring him, Dane spoke reproachfully. "You know, you should give up now." "Give up what?" Without even looking at Greyson, whose eyes immediately widened, Dane said. "I don't mean give up on me." Greyson's expression returned to normal. Dane still looked only at the ceiling as he spoke. "Give up thoughts like… somehow keeping me tied to the bed, or similar ideas." "I don't think like that anymore." Greyson answered without hesitation. Dane only rolled his eyes to glance at him, then looked away again. "Then that's fine." A brief silence flowed. Greyson looked in another direction as if embarrassed and muttered. "Earlier I was just tempted for a moment. Very briefly, instantaneously." His mumbling somehow sounded dejected. Dane turned his eyes to look at him again. At the sight of Greyson desperately avoiding his gaze, he tried to raise his hand but flinched. Swallowing a groan with "ugh," Dane stopped breathing for a moment, waited for the pain to subside, then opened his mouth. "Come here." When he spoke in a cracked voice, Greyson rolled his eyes slightly. When their eyes met, Dane said again. "Come on, over here." Only at his repeated words did Greyson finally step forward from the distance where he had been. To him who came to the bedside in an instant, Dane showed one hand with difficulty. To Greyson who immediately tried to clasp that hand, Dane said indifferently. "Head." When Greyson quickly moved his hand away and crouched down to bring his head close, only then could Dane pet his head. "Good boy, good boy." It was as if he was casting a spell for him to be good. This kind of behavior would be something you'd do to a puppy, but in some sense it wasn't much different. Of course, Greyson Miller wasn't a puppy. If anything, he'd be a mastiff. Dane soon recalled this man's monstrous strength when he had torn apart a large man's body with his bare hands right before his eyes. Greyson Miller was only hiding his teeth and being gentle toward Dane. In that case, would it be more fitting to say "our dog doesn't bite"? "Dane?" Dane, who had been letting his thoughts flow as they would in a daze, suddenly came to his senses at the calling voice. Greyson was looking at him with curiosity. Only then did Dane realize he had stopped petting his head. Seeing the expectant look directed at him, he almost burst into laughter. The moment he inhaled, his wound screamed, barely allowing him to avoid the crisis.