Chapter 118: My what? (M)

The combination of the visage above him, that unhinged, low voice of the other man, and the violent thrusts tearing through his body was more than Lucien could bear. All that left him were faint, incoherent cries.

Soon, tears blurred his vision as a sharp, tightening coil wound deep in his belly. His limbs refused to obey him; instead, Lucien’s fingers clawed at the bedding beneath him, knuckles white as he nearly tore the fabric apart. His body arched violently upward as another orgasm ripped through him, spilling over his abdomen in a messy slick of sweat and cum. If Zephyr hadn’t been holding him down, he was certain he would have drifted off somewhere entirely. Instantly, Lucien’s eyes rolled back, and in response, his walls clenched deliciously around Zephyr’s cock.

Zephyr groaned, delivering one final thrust into that hot, tight passage. The sensation sent Lucien’s head, which was in a swirl of euphoria, spinning. At that same moment, Zephyr also reached his limit. After holding back for so long while preparing Lucien, he really could not hold back anymore.

And damn, Lucien felt every bit of it.

The tightening, bruising grip on his waist, the guttural grunt that escaped Zephyr’s clenched teeth, and the raw shudder that racked Zephyr’s entire body as a wave of thick, hot essence shot deep inside Lucien.

Lucien’s body spasmed from the sheer intensity of it—it was too much, too hot.

As Zephyr’s sweat-slicked body leaned down to cover him completely, Lucien unconsciously gripped his shoulders. But his grip was so weak that it felt as though he had no strength left in his body. Zephyr’s breathing came in a series of ragged, desperate heaves against Lucien’s neck.

The shock of Zephyr’s direct ejaculation inside him, combined with the intense, overwhelming sensation of being filled until Lucien felt stretched to the absolute limit, had long since made his vision go white at the edges. His entire body continued to convulse involuntarily in the aftermath.

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of their synchronized, ragged breathing.

Zephyr didn’t move immediately; he stayed draped over Lucien, his weight a grounding presence amidst the aftershocks still rippling through Lucien’s body. In that small moment of reprieve, Lucien’s foggy mind began to process the chaos.

Three times.

He had come three times.

And the last time, he had been fucked so deep that he had practically seen stars.

No, more accurately, he had almost felt his soul leave his body and ascend to heaven.

Lucien stared blankly at the ceiling above, utterly wrecked.

But thank God... it seemed to be over.

Finally.

He was never, ever, in his entire life, letting this bastard who was still pressing against his body get anywhere near him again. Yes. Absolutely not. Because he was genuinely afraid he might actually die—not because of the damn plot of the novel, but because of sex.

Just as Lucien was beginning to celebrate his miraculous survival, he felt Zephyr shift above him.

Lucien’s entire body, which had barely begun to calm down, went rigid the moment he realized that thick cock was still buried deep inside him—and, to his absolute horror, it was already hard again!

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

Zephyr pressed messy kisses against Lucien’s neck. His hair was a disaster, with damp silver strands clinging to his forehead, and his eyes were still hazy with the remnants of pleasure.

He murmured Lucien’s name again and again, his voice soft and almost petulant.

"Cien, Cien, Cien..."

But just as Zephyr began to move his lower body again, a sharp bite sank into his shoulder. Zephyr hissed as the teeth broke his skin, yet instead of stopping or reprimanding the person beneath him, he simply rolled his hips.

The person biting him immediately let out a muffled cry and released him.

Gathering what little strength he had left, Lucien grabbed Zephyr’s hair. His arms felt like jelly, and even that weak little tug took more effort than it should have. His entire body was exhausted, his thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he was absolutely, positively not going through another round!

If they went back to what they had been doing earlier, Lucien was fairly certain he might actually die. And he refused to let his life end like this!

Zephyr blinked, lifting his head at the tug on his hair. He could have easily ignored it if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Instead, he let his gaze settle on the face so close to his own.

It was a pity Zephyr couldn’t see it.

Lucien stared right back at him. God, this bastard’s face was genuinely bad for his heart and lungs! Especially that bewildered, almost pleading look he was giving him!

It was practically a crime!

As if things weren’t bad enough already, Zephyr let out a soft, questioning hum.

His hot breath brushed against Lucien’s face, making him shiver uncontrollably.

Lucien dragged in a shaky breath and forced his scattered thoughts to settle. His throat was so dry that even breathing seemed to scrape against it, but he pushed through the discomfort, gathering every last shred of dignity he had left and putting as much sternness into his voice as possible.

Unfortunately, what came out was a hoarse, ragged sound that barely resembled his usual voice.

"PULL OUT!"

Zephyr froze.

Even the movement of his hips came to a halt.

For one glorious second, Lucien thought his words had finally gotten through to the man.

Then Zephyr’s eyelashes fluttered.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

Lucien knew that wronged, pitiful look. Or, more accurately, he knew what it did to his already severely compromised ability to think straight.

Ignoring the hand tugging at his hair, Zephyr leaned down insistently, rubbing his cheek against Lucien’s as though seeking comfort before peppering his face with wet, lingering kisses. His dark lashes lowered as he gazed at Lucien. When he spoke, his voice was gentle and coaxing.

"Just one more time? Okay?"

Lucien stared at him, dumbfounded and utterly speechless.

He was really beginning to question every decision that had led him to this exact moment.

Was... was this side character seriously trying to use that pitiful look on him again?

And the worst part?

It was working.

His resolve wavered for one treacherous second, and Zephyr, apparently taking his silence as encouragement, resumed the movement of his hips, making Lucien’s body twitch involuntarily.

Then, as though he hadn’t already committed enough crimes against Lucien’s sanity, Zephyr leaned closer and murmured something that made Lucien freeze in turn.

"My love, just one more time."

Lucien blinked.

Once.

Twice.

...My what?

For a moment, his brain simply refused to process the words. They floated around in his head, utterly incomprehensible, like a foreign language he had never studied.

My love?

It took a moment for the endearment to sink in, but when it finally did, Lucien’s mind actually sobered up completely.

And then, he nearly laughed from sheer disbelief.

Just one more time?

Wasn’t that the most clichéd line ever?

The sort of lie men told to coax their naive partners into thinking they would actually be allowed out of bed before the day was over.

Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.

Lucien swallowed the angry laugh threatening to escape, fixed Zephyr with what he hoped was a suitably murderous glare, and gritted out.

"NO!"

Even though he said it, he was not confident. He expected Zephyr to keep playing the pitiful card, coaxing him with that low voice. He was already mentally preparing to curse. But to his surprise, the heavy weight above him actually vanished.

Lucien blinked, staring up at Zephyr as the man pulled back. Their lower bodies were still connected, but when Zephyr finally slid his cock out of Lucien’s body, Lucien nearly moaned again. His teeth chattered at the sudden, dragging sensation, and, God, the warm trickle of cum began to leak from his entrance the moment it was left empty.

Feeling the sensation, Lucien’s legs trembled uncontrollably, useless and weak against the bedding. Utterly mortified, he wanted nothing more than to pretend his lower half was not his own.

But just as Lucien decided to ignore it, thinking that, at the very least, this time, it was really over, he noticed Zephyr staring intently at the space between his legs.

Lucien wanted to curse him out loud.

The bastard could not even see!

What the fuck was he staring at so intensely?!

Before he could find his voice, Zephyr lifted his gaze and looked straight at him. The sheer weight of that stare hit Lucien like a physical force, making his breath catch. And the next second, his mind almost fizzled out completely—Zephyr had actually started pleasuring himself while staring right at him!

His palm moved up and down more and more intensely around the slick length, creating wet, slapping sounds that filled the quiet space. His already heavy breathing grew even rougher, ragged and desperate.

Lucien inhaled deeply and gulped, his throat working hard against the dryness.

For some reason, although his rational mind screamed at him to look away, his eyes refused to obey. He did not even notice when his own spent cock gave a sharp twitch at the obscene sight before him.