* * *
Nael clenched his stomach, desperately holding back.
His cock, trapped between those red lips, throbbed so hard it felt ready to burst.
Even through the rough suction, the ache only sharpened the pleasure coiling in his gut.
He weakly thrashed, pounding his fist against Killian’s head—but with all his blood rushing south, the blows were little more than feeble taps.
Killian’s damp hair clung to his forehead, droplets clinging to his long lashes as he kept his eyes shut.
“Please—ahh!”
His toes curled, but it was no use.
With a ragged cry, he spilled into Killian’s mouth, hips jerking as his release shot out in thick pulses.
His body went limp, like a puppet with its strings cut, and if not for Killian’s grip, he would’ve slumped straight into the water.
“As expected.”
Killian’s tongue swiped over his own lips.
“So much.”
He wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand, smirking faintly.
The slight furrow in his brow was oddly out of place.
“…You didn’t just—swallow it, did you?”
“And if I did?”
“You should’ve made me drink it instead.”
Oh? Since when could he say such cute things?
Killian ruffled Nael’s hair roughly, sending his damp golden locks into further disarray.
Nael winced, dizzy, but still managed a weak smile.
That harmless face of his really did make it too easy to mess with him.
As Killian rose, water cascaded off his shoulders like a waterfall.
Nael, caught in the sudden downpour, wiped his face hurriedly—only for a thick, heavy something to tap against his cheek.
“Eat.”
Nael didn’t hesitate, gripping the massive shaft before him.
Even with both hands, he could barely wrap his fingers around it.
He had to strain his jaw just to take the swollen tip into his mouth.
Beneath coarse curls, the dark red cock twitched eagerly, half-hard and velvety soft.
Probably the only part of Killian that’s this tender, Nael thought.
When he glanced up, Killian was watching him from above, gaze heavy with arrogance.
Swallowing nervously, Nael steeled himself and pushed forward, taking the head between his lips.
The musky scent of Killian’s flesh filled his nose—something uniquely lewd, different from the rest of his body’s natural scent.
It made his own spent cock twitch back to life in the water, bobbing faintly.
A flicker of shame ran through him.
His role was supposed to be servicing Killian’s desires, yet here he was, having already come once just from being pleasured.
“Nngh—!”
The cock in his mouth swelled abruptly, filling him to the brim.
He’d barely managed half before the sheer girth made his jaw ache.
It was like trying to stuff a child’s soft, fist-sized ball into his mouth—too stretched to close, too full to take more.
His brow furrowed in concentration as he worked his tongue over the head.
This was different from when Killian had forced himself inside him before.
Now he was in control—and he wanted to return the favor.
Guilt over making Killian swallow his bitter cum drove him to suck harder, losing himself in the act until heat pooled low in his belly again.
“Ah—!”
A foot nudged playfully between his thighs, tapping his balls.
His body jerked, driving the cock deeper, and Nael choked, pulling back with a cough.
“Keep going.”
“…Y-yes.”
Compared to the courtesans who had to sell their bodies to multiple men aboard ships, his situation wasn’t so bad, was it?
Killian could be tender at times, even frightening, but he never handed Nael over to just anyone—so Nael could trust and rely on him.
The North was unfamiliar in every way—its food, its climate, everything. It was as if he had been struck by lightning, abruptly torn away and left stranded, clinging only to the slim thread of hope Killian had given him.
But during his time with Killian, Nael had grown accustomed to the carnal pleasures he’d been taught, and sometimes his desire surged uncontrollably.
Like now.
Even with just the tip filling his mouth, he strained to take more.
Slick with spit, his jaw trembling as he forced himself open until he reached the back of his throat, his breath came in ragged gasps.
Struggling to keep the cock between his lips, he flinched when Killian stroked his head.
That small praise made Nael’s own length, already hard as steel beneath the water, throb even thicker.
Unshaken by the currents Killian stirred, it stood rigid, craving deeper stimulation.
Between his thighs, the entrance only Killian was allowed to breach burned with a strange heat.
Unconsciously, he clenched and relaxed, his hole fluttering.
Hurry up and put it in, he begged silently, but Killian only tapped playfully at his balls with the tip of his foot, rolling the delicate orbs under his toe, rubbing them, even nudging them lightly.
The faint ache in his lower belly made Nael shake his head, but he couldn’t muster any greater reaction—holding Killian’s cock in his mouth was already taking all his strength.
“Spread.”
Nael obediently parted his legs.
A toe traced the crease of his perineum, teasing.
The heat between his thighs was unbearable, his body melting.
“Just holding it in your mouth? You have to suck if you want me to come.”
“Nngh—Uhh—”
His eyes flew open when Killian’s toe pressed insistently between his cheeks.
He’s really going to push it in again.
Nael’s wrists ached as he moved faster, pumping with desperate urgency.
Even as his arms burned from the effort, there was no sign Killian was close.
Normally, it took forever for him to finish, and this much was nowhere near enough.
With a whimper, Nael let the cock slip from his lips, a string of saliva clinging to the tip.
His sore jaw twitched as he closed his mouth.
“Master…”
Killian, having shrugged off his lace apron, traced the name etched below his collarbone with a finger.
Just touching those raised black lines filled him with an absurd, overwhelming satisfaction.
Leaning lazily in the tub, Killian twitched a finger, and Nael scrambled to obey.
He straddled Killian’s thick thighs without complaint, legs splayed wide, even looping his arms eagerly around his neck.
His lips brushed Killian’s shoulder—a ticklish kiss, then a loud, smacking peck.
Desperate for relief, Nael rubbed himself against Killian’s stomach, as if begging for help with the heat coiling inside him.
“Nael.”
Killian’s voice was amused.
“Are you using my body as your toy?”
“N-No! I-I’d never—I just—Nngh! You didn’t put it in earlier…”
What am I going to do with this foolish boy?
How much more crying and flailing would it take before he let go?
Still, his clumsy attempts at seduction were oddly endearing.
Even after leaving the tub, Nael was too wrecked to walk properly.
Cradled in Killian’s arms, he barely managed to collapse onto the bed.
Contrary to his worries, his eyes were fine—just slightly blurred, likely from Killian’s sticky saliva.
He rolled them weakly, staring at the intricately carved bedposts.
“Rest.”
Too drained to respond, Nael managed only a faint nod.
It felt as if every ounce of energy had been sucked from him—he couldn’t even lift a finger.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d come; after the third, he’d given up.
“I’ll reattach John for you.”
“…John?”
“That thing can take care of you better than anyone. You’re too fragile on your own—always getting hurt the moment I take my eyes off you. Wherever you go, John will be with you. Philip will prepare everything you need.”
As Killian moved to rise, Nael caught his finger.
“Thank you… Master.”
His whisper was so faint it nearly dissolved into his breath.
Killian’s palm covered Nael’s eyes.
“Sleep. When you wake, you’ll be able to write letters again.”
“Okay…”
Sunlight streamed through the window, fracturing into scattered patterns across Nael’s face.
Killian drew the curtains carefully, then stroked his golden hair.
He pressed a kiss to Nael’s defenseless, sleeping face.
* * *
