The Witch Didn't Raise the Tyrant That Way - Chapter 2: How He Grew Up (6)
The sensation was… strange.
“What are you…?”
Startled and confused, I looked up at him. Kyle didn’t reply. His crimson eyes bore into mine, sharp and intense, as if gauging my reaction.
The silence stretched between us.
“Do you even realize what you’re doing, or are you really that clueless…?”
“Huh…?”
Kyle furrowed his brow, his lips curving into a crooked, wolfish smile. It wasn’t a kind smile—it was fierce, predatory. I found myself frozen, mesmerized by the expression on his face.
Without warning, Kyle shifted one of the arms that had been around my waist, sliding it beneath my knees. In the next instant, he lifted me effortlessly into his arms.
One arm supported my back, the other cradled beneath my knees.
A princess carry.
The sudden shift in perspective made my head spin, and I instinctively flailed my arms in surprise.
“W-wait! What are you…!”
“…You’re surprisingly light,” Kyle murmured, glancing down at me with a strange expression.
“….”
Still cradling me, he carried me over to the bed. He placed me down carefully, then climbed in beside me. Just like the night before, Kyle curled himself around me and buried his face in my chest, his arms firmly locking me in place.
“Put me to sleep,” he muttered.
“Oh? Uh, okay.”
Kyle, once again, wanted to fall asleep while holding me. Understanding the routine now, I gently pulled him closer, letting him rest his head against me. His hair was still damp, so I idly stroked it, running my fingers through the soft strands.
“Did you sleep well last night?” I asked quietly.
Kyle didn’t answer, but I continued anyway.
“Did it seem to help? Or is it too early to tell? I was worried when I didn’t see you this morning—I thought maybe you didn’t get much rest. Oh, and thank you for moving my lab. Starting tomorrow, I’ll try experimenting with some herbal combinations that might help. Just a little longer, okay?”
I fussed over his hair, smoothing his bangs and tucking them behind his ear. The silence weighed heavily on me, so I kept talking to fill the void. Kyle’s face remained buried in my chest, his firm grip on my waist not loosening for a second. I could feel his deep, steady breaths against me, and I tried not to focus on how conscious I was of them.
“Do you want me to sing a lullaby?” I offered hesitantly.
In my previous life and this one, I’d cobbled together lullabies by mixing whatever melodies came to mind. But before I could start humming, Kyle suddenly tensed, his shoulders rising as though he couldn’t hold back anymore.
I froze, startled, and quickly withdrew my hands from his hair.
“Okay, okay. I won’t say anything.”
“…It’s uncomfortable,”
“Uncomfortable?”
“Tonight, I want to sleep differently.”
“Uh… yeah. How?”
At my question, Kyle shifted and sat up slightly. Without a word, he turned me so that my back was to him. Then, he slid his solid arm under my head as a makeshift pillow and pulled me tightly against him with his other arm. My shoulder pressed against his chest, and I could feel the taut muscles of his abdomen against my lower back. His legs tangled with mine, pinning me completely.
In an instant, I was thoroughly ensnared by his strong limbs.
Oh… this really is just treating me like a body pillow…
As the thought crossed my mind, the man behind me lowered his head and buried his nose in the crook of my neck again.
Huuu… haaah.
It was as if breathing was an intentional, labored effort for him, the way he inhaled deeply against my neck and exhaled slowly. His warm breath swept across my skin, making me acutely aware of every touch.
He nudged his nose along my shoulder and neckline, occasionally brushing the tip of it against me. At times, he buried his face in my messy, unkempt hair, taking heavy breaths as if trying to inhale every trace of my scent. His lips even brushed against my skin on occasion, lingering just long enough to make my heart race.
Does my scent—something from living in the forest for so long—calm him down? Is that why he’s clinging so desperately to it?
I wondered if the sterile, unfeeling atmosphere of the palace had driven him to the edge, leaving him unable to sleep without clinging to this faint connection to his past.
The arm around my waist tightened even further, pressing against the underside of my chest. His lips, which had only grazed my skin before, began to linger longer, the warm, damp touch of them leaving a distinct impression on my neck.
All of this should have registered as a warning, but I couldn’t focus on any of it—because I was distracted by something else entirely.
I could feel it.
Pressed firmly against the back of my thighs, tangled with my legs, was something undeniable.
It was thick. Long. And hard.
No way… It can’t be.
I tried to rationalize it. Maybe this was just a natural reaction—after all, Kyle was an adult now, and physical contact could sometimes lead to this. But then, Kyle and adult didn’t quite fit together in my mind.
Sure, he was 23 now, technically a grown man. But in my eyes, he was still the boy who had been no taller than me not too long ago.
No… no, this has to be… something else. Right?
Lost in a whirlwind of “no” after “no,” I was still grappling with the thoughts spinning in my head when suddenly—
“…Hhht!”
The hand that had been securely around my waist moved, and without warning, grabbed my chest.
“Kyle…!” I gasped.
“……”
“What are you… ngh—!”
“I asked if you slept well last night.”
Kyle’s voice, low and resonant, seemed to reverberate deep in my chest, making my heart pound harder.
“If you want to know now, no. I didn’t sleep much at all. With you practically offering your chest up like that, ripe for the taking, how was I supposed to sleep?”
“What? No, that’s not…!”
Shocked by his blunt accusation, I tried to sit up, but Kyle’s grip on my chest only tightened. Before I knew it, both his hands were on me, each one firmly grasping a breast.
Damn it…
Despite the roughness of his words, his touch was almost disturbingly gentle. His hands kneaded my chest slowly and deliberately, while he kept his face buried in the crook of my neck. His breathing was heavy, punctuated by the occasional low, guttural groan.
“Ugh, Kyle, that’s not… that’s not what I meant to…”
I tried to protest because I was wronged, but my words kept breaking as he twisted and pinched my nipples. The tingling sensation from my tip dyed my entire chest, and it was heightened once more by his kneading hands.
“Or, what. Did you try to breastfeed me because you still saw me as that skinny ten-year-old brat?”
“What are you saying, like that… .”
It was hard to breathe because of the sensation I was experiencing for the first time in my life.
Kyle’s muffled groans reached my ears, sounding as though he was holding something back or barely restraining himself. His lips brushed against my bare shoulder repeatedly—smack, smooch, smack—each touch growing more deliberate, until they turned into full-fledged kisses.
At the same time, his hands relentlessly worked on my chest. Through the thin fabric of my chemise, my hardened nipples stood out clearly, and his fingers pinched, twisted, and rubbed them mercilessly. The odd, tingling sensation it created spread uncontrollably, leaving me squirming in discomfort and unfamiliar heat.
Unable to endure the strange itchiness radiating from my chest, I flinched, my hips twitching as if trying to escape.
“See? I must look like a fool to you.”
Kyle’s hand suddenly gripped my chest with bruising force, almost crushing it in his palm. The initial jolt of pain quickly blended with the lingering sensations of heat that had been building under my skin, amplifying the strange tension in my body. Without realizing it, my hips began to squirm in an attempt to alleviate the overwhelming sensation, but there was nowhere to escape. His solid frame blocked my retreat, and worse, the rigid length pressing against my thigh pushed in deeper with my every movement.
I could even feel the pulsing through the thin barrier of fabric.
Kyle shifted slightly, grinding that hard shaft against my thigh with deliberate motion.
“And yet you expect me to fall asleep like this?” he muttered bitterly, his voice low and raw. “Last night, I was like this the entire time. Did you really think I could just lie there and rest?”
“…What?” I managed to stammer.
“And you… you slept just fine. Didn’t even notice. I jerked off three times watching you last night, and you had no clue.”
“Je-jerked off?! W-what are you even saying?!”
“What do you think?”
Kyle let out a cold laugh as he unwrapped his legs from mine, creating just enough space between our lower bodies by pushing gently on my hips. From behind, I heard the faint rustle of fabric, a sound that immediately set me on edge.
“This sound,” he murmured.
“What are you doing…?!”
Still clad in my chemise, I felt something blunt and searingly hot press against my backside. It didn’t take much to realize what it was—Kyle had loosened his nightgown, pulled down his undergarments, and freed his arousal. The damp, sticky sensation where the tip brushed against me betrayed the pre-release slicking its surface.
“Ever since last night, just from seeing your chest, it’s been like this,” he muttered.
“T-that’s not true…” I stammered, grasping for denial.
“Why would I lie about something like this?”
His words were maddening, impossible to comprehend. My mind refused to accept them, yet his tone was so unwavering it left me reeling.
“I don’t think I can sleep unless I take care of this.”
Kyle muttered under his breath, something about a lullaby being pointless, as he began to stroke himself. Pressing the swollen tip of his arousal firmly against my backside, every motion of his hand became painfully evident to me.
Aside from the movement of his hand, nothing else had changed. He continued sucking on my neck with audible, wet kisses—smack, suck, smack—while his other hand kneaded my chest. His fingers pinched and rubbed at my nipples, relentless in their ministrations. All the while, his rough, ragged breaths spilled into my ear, making my head spin.
“Kyle, stop… don’t do this…” I pleaded, trying to twist away.
“Then will you do it for me?” he asked bluntly, his voice low and unapologetic.
“W-what?”
“If you’re not going to show me your pussy or suck me off, then just stay still.”
Kyle muttered those words matter-of-factly as if it was the most natural thing to say, then dragged his tongue slowly up the side of my neck.
“W-what the…!”
Where on earth had he learned to speak so crudely? I froze, completely stunned, unable to even gasp in protest. Sensing my silence, Kyle let out a low chuckle by my ear.
But that laughter—it sounded bitter, almost self-deprecating.
“You just have to endure it, don’t you? You’ve always known what a filthy bastard I am.”
Kyle’s muttering gave way to the increasingly rapid movements of his hand. The lewd, wet sounds of him stroking himself—slap, slap, slap—filled the air, raw and unrelenting.
What is even happening right now…?
I couldn’t process it. My entire body had gone stiff with tension, unable to comprehend or accept the situation. All I could do was wait—wait for time to pass and for this surreal moment to end.
But to say I was just waiting wouldn’t be entirely accurate.
His hands, rough yet oddly purposeful, continued to knead and squeeze my chest, making my heart race so hard it felt like it might burst. His lips, brushing lightly against the sensitive skin of my neck, left a strange, tingling itch that sent waves of confusion through me. And his moans—low, husky, and undeniably carnal—filled my ears and left my nerves raw, hyperaware of everything happening behind me.
I endured it all: the foreign sensations trailing down my spine, the electric charge in the pit of my stomach, and the overwhelming strangeness of it all.
Let it end quickly… no, wait—what if something lies beyond this? Something worse?
And yet… It’s Kyle. How could it…
“Haah, Lyn… Lyn…”
The guttural moans spilling from Kyle behind me suddenly sparked a realization—the sound I’d heard during the carriage ride yesterday…
So that was…?
Even while I had been lost in my own thoughts, reminiscing about the younger Kyle, he had been doing something like that right beside me?
To himself? With me right there?
The thought left me reeling with a mix of shock and disbelief. But before I could process it further, Kyle’s groans grew louder, more ragged. His breath hitched, his body trembling as if overwhelmed by uncontrollable fervor.
I could feel his movements becoming increasingly erratic, the firm tip of his length pressing against my backside now jerking more forcefully as his strokes quickened. His voice became rough, strangled as though he was biting back the sounds threatening to spill out.
“Ugh… Lyn…”
As Kyle gasped my name in a strained, suppressed voice, I felt the hem of my chemise grow damp. Warm liquid seeped through the thin fabric as his release came in thick, pulsing bursts, soaking the cloth completely.
“Haah… Lyn… ah, so good… Lyn…” he murmured over and over, his voice heavy with satisfaction. His hand continued to work himself, milking every last drop as his length twitched against me.
At the same time, his lips pressed roughly against the nape of my neck, rubbing as if to mark me. His trembling hand, still grasping my chest, spasmed slightly, as though he couldn’t contain the aftershocks of his release.
The person holding me now felt entirely unfamiliar—a man I didn’t know. A side of Kyle I had never seen before.
* * *
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Ichoosethesiblingroute
How traumatizing