I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 593 593: Breakfast With Layla [R-18]

What a blissful night it had been.

A satisfied sigh escaped my lips as I slowly opened my eyes, greeted by the familiar sight of my room ceiling. The warmth lingering beside me was comforting, yet the source of that warmth was nowhere to be found. I stretched out my hand, fingers grazing the empty sheets, still faintly heated from where she had been.

Tilting my head to the side, I caught the soft sound of something ruffling. My eyes landed on Layla, who was already awake, seated elegantly on a chair near the window. Her long legs were crossed, one foot idly bouncing, as she held an open book in her hands.

”You slept like a baby, honey,” she said with a teasing smile when she saw me awake.

I blinked at her, momentarily distracted. She was wearing nothing but my shirt—one of my oversized ones that draped loosely over her frame, barely covering her thighs. The way the fabric hung off her shoulders, exposing the delicate curve of her collarbone.

Damn.

She looked unbelievably hot in my clothes.

”Since when have you been awake?” I asked, letting out a lazy yawn.

It had been a long time since I slept this well—so deeply, so peacefully. My body was still heavy with the remnants of exhaustion of not only yesterday but all the others days, but the kind that left a pleasant ache rather than discomfort.

Layla absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair as she flipped a page. ”Hmm, maybe an hour ago?” She answered casually, eyes still scanning the text.

Curious, I glanced at the book in her hands. It was one of the volumes I had borrowed from the academy—a detailed account of the Vampire Witch.

”This Vampire Witch seems quite interesting, honey,” Layla said.

I let out a small chuckle as I pushed myself up into a sitting position, stretching my arms with a satisfying pop. ”If you find mass murder, blood rituals, and painting the moon red with thousands of corpses interesting, then sure, sheʼs quite the character.”

Layla finally closed the book, setting it down on the shelf beside her before standing up. As she approached me, the hem of my shirt lifted slightly, offering me a glimpse of her toned thighs.

”Did you sleep well, honey?” She asked with a smile.

I smirked, pulling her closer by the waist. ”What do you think?”

Her arms looped around my neck as she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against my lips. ”I saw you sleeping like a baby,” she whispered against my mouth.

I kissed her back, savoring the warmth of her lips before pulling away slightly. My gaze softened as I looked at her. ”Are you okay? Does it still hurt?” I asked, a bit concerned. After all, last night had been her first time.

Layla rolled her eyes at my worry. ”Honey, who do you think I am? Some helpless maiden in distress?” She scoffed playfully. ”Iʼm stronger than you give me credit for.”

”Canʼt a husband worry about his wife anymore?” I sighed.

Layla let out a soft giggle, her body pressing closer to mine. Her breasts, barely covered by a thin shirt, pressed against my bare chest. I could feel the gentle pressure of her nipples, sending a wave of warmth through me.

”We can do it as many times as you want, Honey,” she said.

I was taken aback, but my heart raced with excitement. ”But you just lost it yesterday...and itʼs morning,” I said, trying to keep my composure.

Layla smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ”I heard mornings are when men are at their peak,” she said, her hand lightly brushing against the growing bulge in my pants. ”You canʼt hide it from me, Honey.”

”This is just a morning erection,” I tried to explain, but my voice lacked conviction.

She leaned in closer, her breath hot against my ear. ”Is it really just a morning erection?” She asked.

”Layla...” I breathed out her name, silently telling her that I reached my limits.

But thatʼs exactly what she wanted.

”I want a morning creampie for breakfast,” she whispered softly.

Her words were a temptation I couldnʼt resist. I kissed her fiercely, my hands exploring her back as I pulled her closer. Her breasts flattened against my chest, and the loose shirt she wore offered a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage.

Laylaʼs hand found its way to my bulge, her touch gentle yet insistent. I grasped her hand, turning her around so that her back was pressed against my chest. My lips trailed kisses down her neck and nape, while my hands cupped her breasts, massaging them with a slow yet rough rhythm.

”Hmmn~” Layla moaned softly, her body arching into my touch.

Her fingers traced down my abdomen, dipping lower, hesitating only for the briefest moment before pressing against the outline of my cock once more. A teasing stroke, nothing more, but enough to send a pulse of heat straight through me.

Laylaʼs lips curved into a knowing smile she whispered, ”You should just release it, honey… hmm!”

Then she moaned—soft, breathy, needy—as I sank my teeth gently into the slope of her neck. She trembled against me, her body molding into mine, her hips shifting, pressing back just enough that I could feel the heat of her through the thin layers between us.

”As you wish.”

My fingers hooked into the waistband of my pants, dragging them down just enough, and the moment I did, my cock sprang free—hot, aching, pressing flush against the round curve of her ass. The sudden contact made her gasp, and when she glanced over her shoulder at me, her eyes were laced with something between amusement and hunger.

”Ah… it looks so hungry, honey.”

Her voice was sweet, teasing, but I could see the way her thighs pressed together, the way her lips parted, the way she was already swaying her hips, aligning herself without even thinking. She wanted it just as badly.

I caught her mouth in a kiss—deep, possessive—while one hand slid down her stomach, fingers tracing lower until they reached the slick, needy heat between her thighs. Even without looking, I could feel it—she was still sensitive, swollen from last night, her body remembering the stretch, the way she had taken me for the first time, the way she had trembled and whimpered and clung to me as I claimed her.

I ran my fingers along her folds, gathering the wetness there, teasing her entrance before pressing the tip of my cock against it.

”H-Hot…” She trembled as she felt me there, so close, teasing her, making her wait.

I wasnʼt waiting anymore.

I pushed forward.

”A–Aghnn!” Laylaʼs mouth fell open, her body arching as the first few inches sank inside her. There was a moment—a heartbeat—where she tensed, that tiny flash of residual pain, the lingering ache of her first time. But it was fleeting, vanishing into the pleasure as her walls clenched around me, welcoming me deeper, her slick heat drawing me in.

”Itʼs even tighter than yesterday,” I groaned, my fingers digging into her hips.

”Hmn~maybe youʼre the one who got bigger—ahnn!”

I didnʼt let her finish. I sank deeper, inch by inch, stretching her open, filling her until there was no space left between us, until I could feel the trembling in her thighs, the way her breath came in little gasps.

”Letʼs see whatʼs true, then.”

My hands slid up, cupping her big breasts, squeezing, feeling the way her nipples hardened under my palms. I kissed her nape, bit down just enough to make her shudder, then pulled back, thrusting again—deeper, harder.

”Aahn! Yes!”

Her moan was high-pitched, pleasure overriding everything else. It was all the encouragement I needed. I gripped her tighter, held her steady, and fucked her.

Each thrust was slow but deep, dragging along every sensitive inch inside her, making her walls flutter, making her legs tremble. Her hands braced against the nearest surface, trying to steady herself, but I could feel how she was melting, how every snap of my hips pushed her closer, drove her higher.

”Ahn! Hmm! Yes! More~”

The sound of her moans alone sent a pulse of heat straight through me, made me lose whatever patience I had left.

I picked up the pace, fucking her harder, grinding deep, making sure she felt every inch. Her body responded instantly—clenching, pulling me in, as if she never wanted me to leave.

I could feel it—her climax building, the way her thighs started to shake, the way her moans pitched higher, faster, raw with need.

Then she broke.

Her walls clenched around me, her body tensed—and then she came, her essence spilling down her thighs, soaking me, making everything slicker, hotter, easier.

”A–AHN! This feels… so good!”

Her voice was wrecked, her cheeks flushed, her body still trembling. She was still sensitive, still adjusting, but there was no hesitation now. If there was any lingering ache from the night before, it only made her need sharper, more desperate.

And I wasnʼt stopping yet.

I slid a hand between her thighs, pressing against the bundle of nerves there, feeling how she was still pulsing, still needing.

She gasped, shuddering.

I smirked against her ear.

”Letʼs see how many times I can make you come this morning—”

-Knock!

The knock shattered the heat in the air like a rock through glass.

Laylaʼs breath froze, her half-lidded eyes fluttering open, but before she could even form a thought—before she could even consider answering—I drove into her again, slow and deep, making her body jolt against me.

”Honey—ahnnn!”

Her voice trembled, a delicious tremor of overstimulation and helpless pleasure, her body still wracked by the aftershocks of her climax. Her inner walls clamped around me, tighter than before, clinging, milking, begging me not to stop. A fresh rush of her slickness dripped down her trembling thighs, and I could feel the way her body trembled with sensitivity.

And yet… how was I supposed to stop when she was moaning like this?

I leaned in, my breath hot against the shell of her ear. ”Youʼre so sensitive right now, arenʼt you?”

She shivered in responsive but was still trying to regain her composure.

”H—Honey… wait a moment—AHNN!”

She tried to protest, but I didnʼt let her. I pulled her hips back into me, slamming in deeper, making her back arch and her mouth drop open in a silent cry. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, her body caught in that unbearable space between pleasure and something beyond that.

-Knock!

The second knock was sharper and was accompanied by a voice.

”Layla.”

It was Johnʼs voice.