Chapter 51 Listen to the Holy Will, then listen.
It started snowing in the middle of the night, shortly after the Byrne brothers left.
As Budeni climbed the mountain with the main group, he would occasionally look back in the direction Hart had left.
Seeing this, his companions couldn't help but come over and pat him on the shoulder, teasingly saying, "So reluctant to part? Everyone was away just now, didn't you take the chance to kiss her?"
Boudni has a notorious reputation for womanizing; he's slept with countless men and women on the first date. If he did something to Hart, no one would be surprised.
But what's strange is that he didn't do anything. Although Byrne's fierceness was enough to repel evil thoughts, it should have been more likely to ignite the fighting spirit between males in Budney.
After receiving a denial from Budney, the companion expressed his shock.
Budney stepped on a piece of dead wood that was blocking his way and said calmly, "Hart is a very pure person. Although I do want to corrupt him, I also want to cherish him. I think I might have really fallen for him."
His companion laughed.
"Sincerity? It's clearly lust at first sight. Your sincerity is like the heart-shaped stones on the beach, mass-produced."
Budney didn't take it to heart and looked at his companion sincerely: "Don't insult my feelings. I've never been so moved as I am when I saw Hart. He fascinates me... makes me think of things other than kissing. Maybe not to the point of spending the rest of my life with him, but what if he is?"
“But what if…” His companion spread his hands, repeating the sentence in a cheeky manner, then shrugged, “Then you might have to figure out how to deal with his brother first. You saw how he attacked the wolf king, right? You’ve definitely messed with a ruthless character this time.”
This is an undeniable fact, Buddney agreed. But he wouldn't give up because of it, after all, they were just brothers.
right.
They're just a pair of ordinary brothers who kiss.
As an elder brother who cherishes his younger brother, the Storm Leader's hand, which rested on the back of the Son of God's head, appeared unusually gentle.
A kiss wasn't enough for Buster Grand. A man of action, he preferred to express his loyalty to Reinhardt through more physical gestures. So, after a gentle kiss that cupped Reinhardt's cheek, he rose slightly, gazing tenderly at Reinhardt.
His golden hair was already disheveled from the tangling, with several strands hooked around his ears, flowing with a sacred glow between his fingers.
Reinhardt, in his early twenties, still had a touch of youthful naiveté, but the charm of maturity was like the breath he exhaled in unbearable discomfort, gradually filling the air.
Buster found it difficult to describe in words how breathtaking the scene he was seeing was. He just suddenly felt an urgent need to find Reinhardt's eyes, to have him look at him, and to see the beautiful sight of those eyes filled with moisture.
He wanted to be seen, to brand the body and heart of the Son of God with the mark of a storm.
The Son of God, already slightly dizzy from the kisses, was struggling to breathe fresh air in the darkness when he felt his hand being grasped in the Storm Leader's palm. As if guiding something, the Storm Leader used his thumb to spread the Storm Leader's knuckles, slowly pressing them against his face.
...He seemed to see the Storm Leader's appearance.
The skin of his face, pressed against his palm, was warm, but his facial features were clearly defined. Using his fingertips as paintbrushes, a vivid Buster slowly emerged in his black and white world.
Buster held his hand and, as he slowly traced the outline of his eyebrows and eyes with his fingertips, couldn't help but kiss his palm. But it was just a light kiss, and he continued to expand his visual horizons.
Reinhardt was comforted by his encouragement to continue, and his fingertips slowly traced his ears, eye sockets, nose tip, and lips.
Then, a complete Buster appeared before his eyes.
He touched Buster's lips and felt Buster's smile.
Then I got kissed again.
The warm, wet kisses and breaths made his palms tingle. Reinhardt tried to pull his hand away, but Reinhardt forcefully stopped him, continuing to hold it and kiss his palm.
As if forced to open his eyes in front of a mirror, Reinhardt suddenly felt a little embarrassed because he could "see".
But in Buster's eyes, it was enough to make the little storm leader hold his head high.
With his vision obscured, Reinhardt felt something hot bouncing around his legs, which was a little scary.
His fingers curled slightly as he gripped Buster's hand tightly, trying to express his thoughts.
“Storm…” The Son of God’s clear and gentle voice trembled slightly as if it had been disturbed, and the ending tone was cute and alluring, almost making Buster embarrassed on the spot.
He bent down, stroking Reinhardt's head and kissing his lips repeatedly.
The urge to touch him grew stronger, and Buster had to pull his hand away from behind Reinhardt's head. Slowly setting him down, Buster finally freed his other hand to gently caress Reinhardt's body.
As if surveying its own territory, the fingertips slowly moved across the flesh and blood that had been nurtured.
Reinhardt has indeed gained a lot of weight compared to when he was first released from prison. Back then, you could clearly see the outline of his bones; otherwise, relying solely on his face, he would probably look almost like a zombie.
Now it's different. Every part of her body is white and soft. When Buster kisses her, there's a slight indentation. She's so fleshy.
The waist, with its beautiful curve and the way you pinch it with your knuckles, allows a little bit of flesh to bulge out between your fingers, adding an ambiguous tactile sensation that makes it irresistible.
Everything about it is so cute.
“Violent…” Reinhardt’s words were suppressed by Buster’s pecking motion. His breath trembled, and he unconsciously let out a low sigh.
"Um……"
"That sounds good," Buster said, taking a deep breath.
Reinhardt's back ached slightly, as if he couldn't bear it any longer. He slightly raised his leg, slipped his fingers into Buster's hair, and couldn't help but clench them tightly.
But that meager force seemed to urge Buster to continue; the Storm Leader's free hand forcefully pressed down on Reinhardt's knee, still absorbed in his actions.
Reinhardt felt as if all his senses had been stripped away, and he was left in a blank state for more than ten seconds.
Then Buster looked up and saw a son of a god whose body had turned red from suffocation.
Seeing the other man's raised chin and pitiful appearance with his teeth clenched, Buster quickly swallowed what was in his mouth, leaned in to kiss Reinhardt, and pried open his teeth.
The latter finally regained the right to breathe amidst her helpless suffocation, and trembled as tears streamed down her face.
One tear after another fell, his blond hair at the temples was dampened by tears, and then gently kissed away by Buster.
The son of God slowly regained normal breathing amidst tender kisses.
Buster was still embracing him, stroking his long hair and cheeks. Reinhardt, his voice still slightly hoarse, slid his hand down his hair, letting it hang limply on his shoulder.
“Storm…” he said softly as he looked up to respond to the kiss.
"May I... go to sleep?"
He was so tired that he could barely stay awake.
Buster chuckled as he realized that Reinhardt was trying to keep his previous request. He sat up and draped the completely candid Son of God into his arms with his cloak.
He planted a loud kiss on Reinhardt's forehead and buried his head in Reinhardt's shoulder.
"Go to sleep." He nuzzled his head against Reinhardt's neck like a lion cuddling with its wife, and kissed her gently. "I'll sleep with you."
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Author's Note: Buster: The cry of the son of God, how can this not be a kind of divine will?
Madonna: [Eye roll][Eye roll][Eye roll][Eye roll][Eye roll][Eye roll][Eye roll]
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