CHAPTER 4: RESOLVE

The hot dick invaded his hole, the size expanded, and the length filled him. 

Brewster clutched the sink, his body jerking with pain as he watched himself in the mirror. The person in the mirror had a small face, with black hair covering his forehead and sweat dripping from his face to his collar. 

His lips were slightly parted, his tongue dangling in his mouth, and his eyes were wet with tears. 

Brewster slowly turned his head and closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to see his reflection anymore. He couldn't bear it...

"Ummmm..." He moaned when his sensitive spot was hit. 

A low chuckle behind him, and his sensitive spot was hit again. 

Brewster bit down on his tongue. He wouldn't let out that degrading sound anymore. 

He could imagine the expression of the man behind him when he let out that moan. He could imagine the disdain in his eyes and the contempt in his heart. 

Brewster's mind flashed back to that second night inside the suite. The man's ruthless words and uncaring attitude toward his pain and tears. 

He knew he was worth nothing to this man. 

Even his body wasn't special to him. 

Any other star could take over his role, and he would be discarded like a used-up paper. 

Brewster's heart lurched. It was painful. It was too painful. 

He used to imagine a bright future. He used to think everything would be alright if he only focused on his studies. He used to think his parents were enough to take him to the highest point in life... Of course, he was a second-generation young master. 

How did it turn out this way? How did life change so fast?

Brewster's tears rolled down his cheeks with his unending movement. The dick was growing larger and larger in his hole. He felt like he would be torn from within, but the man wouldn't stop. 

"Ah..." Brewster cried out for the umpteenth time. He couldn't bear it anymore. His body was overstimulated, his body craved the man's ravage even more, and he wanted to plead with the man to move faster...

Brewster bit his lower lip. He would rather die than submit to lust. 

He hung his head back as he arched his back, silently urging the man to thrust faster and deeper. 

A chuckle rang again, and Brewster cried as his dick released a hot liquid that stained the ground. But the man continued. His thrusting grew faster and moved deeper. His fingers dug into Brewster's waist as if he wanted to crush him as he ravaged his behind. 

Soon, Brewster felt Ace's liquid filling him up, and he moaned again. He couldn't help it... 

Ace pulled out his still erect cock and grabbed Brewster's shoulder, turning him around to face him. He held up one of Brewster's legs and inserted his hole again. 

He panted. His eyes clouded with lust as he took the young man before him. How could he be so sweet?

Ace felt like he was going to lose his mind in this warmth. He felt like he might die inside this hole...

So young. So tight. So delicious. 

"You cry like you hate it. Meanwhile, your body tightens around me..." He mocked and chuckled. 

Brewster opened his eyes, and his gaze landed on Ace's enlarged face. The low pants, the sweat dripping from his forehead down to his sharp chin, trailing down his neck and reaching his firm chest, rolling around his chocolate nipple...

Brewster swallowed and closed his eyes again as he endured the movement of his already exhausted body.

"Moan," Ace commanded. 

Brewster's eyes twitched, and he opened his lips, letting out a low sound. "Hm..." He squeezed his face in pain mixed with pleasure as he felt Ace's dick hit too deep into him. 

Ace panted and moved faster. He knew he would soon release, and he thrust faster into the warm and tight hole. His dick enlarged, and he released multiple times into the lovable corner as he finally pulled out. 

He turned around, shook his dick to remove the last cum on it, and pulled up his pants. He hadn't taken anything off except pulling down his pants and shorts to begin with. So, in a few seconds, he was done, and he left the room without looking back. 

Brewster watched Ace leave the room, and his body slowly slid down. He slumped on the ground, his head resting on the wall as he cried bitterly. 

His shoulders trembled, his throat choked, and his lips trembled violently as he let out all his pain. He could no longer bear it. 

He felt weak. 

He was exhausted. 

He felt dirty. 

He felt filthy. 

He wished he could rest. 

Brewster cried bitterly. He disdained himself. He hated the him he saw in the mirror earlier and the him who let out shameful sounds during sex. 

After a while, he slowly opened his eyes as he sucked in a deep breath. His eyes darted around as he helped himself up the ground and gripped the sink to wash his face. 

What would breaking down do to help his situation? 

Nothing. He knew that from the beginning. He wasn't permitted to give up. He wasn't permitted to quit. 

He spread his legs and dipped his fingers into his hole to wash off the liquid left inside. The slippery liquid clung to his wall, but he pressed hard, making sure to wash it away. 

He no longer had tears in his eyes, but his heart bled. 

He slowly put on his trousers and limped out of the bathroom. Stepping into the conference room, he stiffened when all eyes fell on him, and everyone seemed to know what had happened to him. 

His face paled, but he forced himself forward. He pulled his seat, ready to sit down...

"Go home," Ace said. 

Brewster ignored it. 

"You look too sick, Mr Brewster. You should go home." He said again, and this time, his tone held finality. 

Brewster raised his head and felt all eyes on him again. His body shivered imperceptibly, and he stood up. 

Without saying a word, he limped out of the room and entered Jim's second-rate car, waiting for him at the entrance. 

"Is the meeting over?" Jim asked worriedly. He noticed the pained expression on Brewster's face and his limping as he walked out, which made his heart ache for the young boy. 

Brewster shook his head. He was about to reply when his phone rang and checking the screen, he realized it was from the hospital. 

He answered the call. "Doctor James." He called, his tone cracking. He had a bad premonition.

"Brewster. Your mother... she collapsed again." Doctor James' distressed voice resounded over the phone, and Brewster's phone slid down.