* * *
The moment one climax ebbed, another crashed over him, pushing him past his limits into pure euphoria.
He could feel it—the sticky mess spilling down his thighs, dripping in thick pulses onto the carpet below.
The wet splatter of each drop only spurred Killian deeper, his cock twitching as he emptied himself inside.
The carpet darkened, soaked through.
Nael’s knees were drenched.
Overwhelmed, consumed—his mind shattered, his voice raw from screaming.
“The entire Grand Duke’s estate will be filled with your moans.”
Nael shed involuntary tears as his hips trembled faintly.
The lewd, wet sounds reached his ears but dissolved before they could fully register in his mind.
Like a beast in heat, his thoughts were drowned in a daze, flooded with nothing but the urge to come and the overwhelming sensation of being claimed.
“Hah—good… more, nn. Master, it feels good.”
His tongue moved on its own, spilling obscene words without restraint.
His ragged breaths made him seem even more debauched than the lowest of brothel whores.
“Damn it, Nael. You like my cock that much?”
“Nn, y-yes. Only—ah—only I get to… nh, slow down, p-please—”
“……”
Killian stopped moving at the fragmented, incoherent plea.
“Hihk—!”
The sudden lack of stimulation made Nael whimper, tears spilling over.
“Nael, I can’t understand you. What did you say?”
“Hh—I d-don’t know. Just… move.”
Nael wriggled his hips impatiently.
The cute, demanding motion urging him to thrust deeper drew a soft laugh from Killian.
As Killian slowly pulled his cock back, Nael’s slick, stretched flesh clung to him before reluctantly letting go.
He could feel Nael’s hole clenching tightly around him—the way his body threw a tantrum even when he couldn’t voice his protests was both amusing and endearing.
Smack. Smack.
Bright red marks bloomed across Nael’s pale buttocks.
“Hh—nn!”
The stinging pleasure made Nael’s head tilt back instinctively.
Killian caught him, pulling their upper bodies flush.
Nael’s sweat soaked through Killian’s shirt, dampening the fabric.
“You’re feeling it even when you’re being punished.”
Nael’s glazed eyes met Killian’s, his expression already melted into a daze.
His round, glassy pupils held a mysterious allure, almost feline in their intensity.
Killian pressed a kiss to Nael’s temple as he pushed his cock back in with deliberate slowness.
Covered in sweat and tears, Nael arched beautifully under the tender gesture, a soft moan escaping him.
That fleeting moment of possessiveness from Nael had pleased Killian immensely.
The same Nael who had once seemed so detached now parted his lips and claimed he was the only one allowed to take him like this.
Killian picked up the pace, driving into him harder.
With one hand gripping Nael’s chest—collapsed against the table—and the other tangled in his hair, he made sure Nael felt every inch of it, his every reaction laid bare in Killian’s gaze.
His cock delved deeper, unrelenting, reaching the tightly clenched depths untouched by anyone else.
“Ah—no…!”
The thick head pressed against Nael’s innermost walls, and his vision flickered—light bursting behind his eyelids before darkness swallowed him again.
Squelch. Squelch.
The relentless thrusts against his walls felt like they were displacing his insides.
A clear liquid spilled from his cock—not cum, not urine—just an uncontrollable rush of slick as his lower body was drenched beyond recognition.
“What the hell are you leaking now?”
The lewd, wet sounds only heightened the feverish pleasure, showing no signs of fading even after being pushed to the brink.
The overwhelming ecstasy refused to end.
“Ah—nn, Master… haah!”
“Did your cock break or something?”
“Hah—can’t… c-can’t take it…”
His mind was drifting.
Everything was too hot, too much.
His body, lost in rapture, no longer felt like his own.
His vision blurred at the edges, yet Killian’s cock showed no sign of exhaustion.
The trembling of Nael’s overstimulated flesh sent vibrations straight to the root, drawing another broken moan from him.
“Hh—hk!”
If this kept up, he felt like he might truly pass out—drowned in pleasure, suffocating in ecstasy.
And the only one who could save him was Killian.
Philip took a quiet, deep breath before entering the study.
“What is it?”
Killian didn’t lift his eyes from the letter.
As an excuse to refuse the imperial decree, he had claimed war fatigue and was currently “convalescing.”
Additionally, he had sent the scheming crown prince to the eastern territories.
A single letter laced with flattery—emphasizing how invaluable the prince’s experience would be—had been enough to settle the matter.
The emperor, who had always regarded the prince with thinly veiled disdain and enjoyed pitting him against Killian, had, as usual, taken the bait at the slightest provocation.
If the prince had truly been the one to manipulate the vassals in an attempt to control Killian, then this would serve as a lesson.
Most didn’t believe his supposed decline in health, but given the life he’d led, many agreed it was plausible.
The letter contained the emperor’s approval of his proposal to head south once spring arrived.
“Once John recovers, you could assign him to Lord Nael.”
“……”
“An old man like me won’t be of much help in Lord Nael’s adjustment.
Besides, my knees aren’t what they used to be—even going up and down the stairs is a struggle now.
Please grant me this.
John has been with him since childhood, so he’d be far better suited to attend to Lord Nael’s emotional needs.”
“John is still rather green. Is there another reason you trust him?”
“Even while recovering from his burns, he was worried about Lord Nael. His insistence on staying in the north was also out of concern for him. Age weakens the body, but if there’s one advantage, it’s the ability to read people, wouldn’t you say?”
Killian handed the letter to Aiden.
The crisp paper was neatly folded again and sealed inside an envelope stamped with the imperial crest.
The butler, who had served since the late duke’s time, was now frail, his steps unsteady.
Considering his workload, it was unlikely he even slept properly at night.
Philip, who had spent his entire life rising at dawn and working late into the night, was gradually losing his vigor.
And now, on top of it all, he’d been saddled with the burden of caring for Nael like dead weight.
Killian tapped the desk lightly.
There was no one else he trusted as implicitly as Philip.
“I see.”
“Yes.”
“Is this what Nael wants?”
“No. This is solely my suggestion.”
The man who had silently endured even the harshest tasks now admitted he was reaching his limit.
The crisp black butler’s uniform couldn’t hide the exhaustion etched into his wrinkled skin, weathered by time.
Even the polite smile he wore couldn’t conceal his age.
Had it been petty spite?
Sending John to guard the armory as a menial laborer had been driven by a thread of distrust, festering like maggots in his gut.
The way Nael looked at him had been… unsatisfactory.
Since he had dared to offer that transparent smile to John, this was a fitting punishment.
“Very well. Let it be done.”
After a brief pause, Killian added:
“Bring Nael upstairs.”
Nael felt strange walking.
It made sense—no matter how spacious the bedroom was, his movements were limited, leaving little reason to walk much.
The corridor was guarded by two knights, towering like statues.
Their imposing figures were as threatening as ever, and Nael stole a glance at their expressions.
“Master.”
If it was something Killian ordered, Nael would obey without question.
He hurriedly undressed.
There was only one reason to be brought upstairs.
“It’s still a bit swollen.”
“Norman just checked on it and said it’s healing well. Please wait a little longer.”
He acted as if the swelling from the tattoo was his own fault.
Nael’s unyielding life, still struggling to find its place, was as fragile and pitiable as a lost butterfly.
So, of course, he would be the one to take Nael in.
* * *
