Chapter 250: Morning Fever

*Runze’s POV*

The water in the deep marble tub is steaming, the scent of lavender and sandalwood rising thick in the enclosed space of the bathroom.

I lean back against Bael’s chest, the hot water coming up to my shoulders, supporting the full weight of my body so the persistent ache in my lower back finally loosens its grip. Bael is sitting behind me in the water, his knees bent on either side of my hips, his large hands moving a wet, soapy cloth over my arms with steady, careful strokes.

He is being entirely too careful.

He has been like this since we woke up. Two hours ago, when his morning arousal had pressed against my thigh under the duvet, I had turned into his space and reached down, sliding my hand over his waist and lower, fingers brushing the hot length of him. He caught my wrist before I could wrap my hand around it properly, his thumb pressing into my pulse, his voice low and raspy against my ear: *Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Runze.*

He had kissed my temple, pulled the covers over my shoulders, and gotten out of bed.

Now, in the bath, his hands move over my wet skin with discipline, washing me as if I were made of fragile glass.

"You’re doing it again," I say softly, tilting my head back against his shoulder.

"Doing what?" Bael’s voice is quiet near my neck as he drags the soft, soapy cloth in a slow line across my collarbone.

"Treating me like I’m going to break."

The cloth pauses against my skin before resuming its careful, deliberate strokes down my arm. "You were in pain at two in the morning, Runze. Dr. Xi said no unnecessary strain."

"Dr. Xi said labor hadn’t started," I correct gently. "And the pain stopped."

"That doesn’t mean your body isn’t under stress." His tone is firm, final, the executive voice he uses when a decision is non-negotiable.

I turn slightly in his lap, the water sloshing over the edges of the marble tub. Bael catches my upper arms immediately to steady me, his brows pulling together in a sudden, instinctive frown. "Careful. Don’t shift so fast."

I don’t listen. Instead, I reach down beneath the warm surface of the water, my fingers sliding along his thigh until I find him.

He is already hard, thick and rigid against my palm, his body reacting to my proximity even while his mind tries to maintain control.

Bael freezes. His breath hitches, a hard, sharp sound in the quiet bathroom. "Runze—"

I ignore the warning in his voice. I close my hand around his cock under the water and stroke downward with a firm deliberate grip that has none of his usual careful gentleness. It is not a slow sweet touch. It is demanding, almost petulant, like a silent protest against his insistence on keeping his distance. I wrap my fingers tighter, dragging my palm up over the hot, swollen head and forcing a low, gravelly groan out of his throat.

"Runze," he grates out, his hands tightening on my shoulders to hold me still. "Stop."

"No." I stroke him again, faster this time, my thumb rubbing over the sensitive tip under the water, spreading the slickness that is already leaking from him. "You want this."

"I am not doing this to you right now," he says, his jaw locking hard. His hand comes down under the surface, wrapping around my wrist and pulling my hand away from his cock with steady unyielding strength. "You’re weak, your back is aching, and we’re getting close to delivery. Put it out of your mind."

He doesn’t just hold my wrist—he lifts me slightly, stepping out of the tub and carrying me out into the cool air of the bathroom before I can argue. He sets me down gently on the edge of the marble counter, wrapping a large, dry towel around my shoulders, his expression completely closed off, dark eyes stormy with repressed frustration.

He turns to grab his own towel, clearly intending to end the interaction before his control snaps.

Seeing him turn away and watching that unshakeable wall of logic stay firmly in place, something inside me breaks open.

I stand up, the wet towel slipping from my shoulders to pool on the tiled floor.

I take two steps forward and step directly into his path, placing my hand flat against the center of his damp chest to stop him.

Bael stops. He looks down at me, his eyes dark, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. "Runze, go get dressed—"

"Bael... Please fuck me."

The silence that falls over the room is immediate and total.

Bael’s entire body goes rigid. His breath stops in his throat. He stares at me, his dark eyes widening slightly as if his mind is struggling to process the crude, explicit words that just came out of my mouth.

I don’t think I have ever spoken to him like that. I have never asked for it so directly, so rawly, stripped of all my usual quiet reserve.

"Runze—" he starts, a desperate edge bleeding into his voice.

"I said fuck me, Bael," I repeat, my voice trembling slightly, but my gaze staying locked on his. I take a step closer, pressing my wet stomach against his hip, my hands moving up to grip his broad shoulders. "Stop protecting me for five minutes and take me. Please."

Bael’s eyes snap shut.

A sharp, ragged sound escapes his throat, a low growl of sheer defeat as the last thread of his discipline violently snaps.

When his eyes open, the careful restraint is completely gone, replaced by a dark, consuming heat.

Before I can draw another breath, his hand shoots out, wrapping firmly around the back of my neck. He spins me around in one fluid, powerful motion, driving my chest forward until my hands hit the smooth, cold tile of the bathroom wall.

"You don’t get to ask for that," Bael growls against the shell of my ear, his breath searing hot, his chest pressing into my back. "Not when you know what it does to me."

He lifts my hips, adjusting my posture until I am angled flush against him. His large hand grips my hip, holding me firmly in place against the wall, while his other hand reaches down, guiding the thick head of his cock to my hole.

Without another second of hesitation he presses forward, pushing deep inside me in one heavy unyielding stroke.

A sharp breathless cry tears out of my throat, my fingers digging into the grout between the wall tiles as he fills me completely. The stretch is sudden and intense, his cock thick and hard as it forces me open, but the sheer heat of him invading my body washes through me like a tidal wave, short-circuiting every ache.

"Bael—" I gasp, leaning my forehead against the cool tile.

"Look at what you do to me," he mutters darkly into my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin over my pulse point.

He pulls back until only the head remains inside, then drives back in hard, establishing a rhythm that is deep, fast and completely possessive. There is no gentleness in the angle, no careful holding back. He takes me from behind with hard deliberate thrusts, his weight pinning me securely against the wall, his palm holding my hip, keeping my stomach safely away from the wall.

Every stroke hits deep, intense and exact. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of me mixes with his heavy ragged breathing, echoing off the tiled walls and mirrors.

I roll my hips back into his rhythm, greedy for every thick inch of him, letting out high shaky gasps as the friction builds fast and hot. My hole clenches around him on every thrust, slick and open, taking him to the hilt again and again.

"More," I whisper, my knuckles white against the wall. "Bael, please—"

His response is a harsh exhale against my shoulder as he increases the pace, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper, merciless in their precision. He works me until my knees go weak, his arm coming around my chest to hold me up, his chest heaving against my back as he fucks into me without holding anything back.

The pleasure coils tight and hard low in my belly, cascading over me in a fierce overwhelming wave that makes my inner walls clamp tight around his cock. I cry out his name, my body trembling violently in his grip as I come hard, pulsing and squeezing around him, leaving me breathless and weightless against the wall.

Feeling me pulse around him, Bael lets out a low gut-wrenching groan. He drives into me three more hard frantic times, burying himself as deep as he can go before he freezes, cock throbbing as he pours himself inside me with a deep shuddering tension that shakes his entire frame. Hot release fills me in thick pulses while he stays locked deep.

For a long time neither of us moves.

The only sound in the bathroom is the ragged sound of our breathing. Bael keeps his forehead pressed into the crook of my neck, his heart hammering violently against my back, his arms wrapped firmly beneath my chest to bear all of my weight as the room slowly settles back into quiet.