* * *
“Why were you crying?”
“Huh?”
“Your eyes are red. Were you trying to hide it?”
“I-It’s just… something you wouldn’t like to hear, Master… Ah.”
If Killian pushed in and gave his ass a light slap, he’d probably start sobbing, saying it hurt, saying he was sorry.
Weak little Nael had a low threshold for pain.
Even as he cried and begged forgiveness for things he hadn’t even done, his hole would still be dripping with cum.
He didn’t even realize it himself—his lowered lashes trembled so delicately, a pitiful sight.
Killian watched him as if savoring the view.
“You must be tired.”
“Yeah, it’s exhausting.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? Should I massage your shoulders?”
“Your hands? That’d be useless. You can’t even knead dough properly.”
“I’m not that weak. I’m stronger than I look. Just trust me and let me try.”
“Not that kind of thing.”
Killian loosened Nael’s gown, exposing his fair thighs, and bit down.
Even his bodily fluids carried a sweet scent.
If he could, he would tear into his flesh, chewing and devouring every piece.
An insatiable desire spread through him. In his imagination, Nael was already inside his stomach, nothing left but bones.
“Mm… Master.”
“What were you talking about with Ren? What kind of conversation would I dislike?”
“Ah… Wait… If you take your hand out, I’ll… hngh…”
Just a single finger was enough to set his lower body ablaze.
Even as Killian toyed with the intimate space inside him, the relentless questioning left Nael flustered.
The questions weren’t difficult, yet he struggled to recall the answer, as if the words had reached his ears but never fully registered in his mind.
With just one finger, he felt utterly foolish.
The intrusion of Killian’s touch didn’t even feel foreign anymore—he was slowly sinking into the depths of pleasure.
“Say exactly what you told Ren.”
“What… I don’t know… We talked a little about my sister, and then… ahh… I don’t… Please, let go… If you pull that hard—ugh.”
Killian gripped Nael’s length in one hand, stroking it as pre-cum dripped freely.
Each movement made him swell, growing firmer in Killian’s grasp.
The soft flesh that had once been pliant now stood stiffly, responding to his touch.
The sticky fluid acted as a lubricant, creating wet sounds that rang in Nael’s ears.
Trying to escape the overwhelming noise filling his head, he clenched the bedsheets.
“Ah…! Master… ahh, it’s too much…”
His lower body jerked violently.
The sensation of Killian’s fingers rubbing deep inside and his firm grip on the outside made it feel like his body and mind were splitting apart, drifting aimlessly in an endless ocean.
He couldn’t hear or see anything—his entire focus was drawn to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.
Every drop of blood in his body melted under the heat.
“Please… hngh…”
“Nael, look at me.”
His half-lidded, dazed eyes met Killian’s gaze.
As he neared his climax, tears welled up at the corners of his eyes, slipping down his cheeks and pooling near his ears.
His breath came out in ragged gasps, and soft, incoherent words tumbled from his lips.
The sounds were so faint that they were barely perceptible unless one listened intently.
But Killian caught every whisper, teasing him with a smirk.
“Nael, say it. What do you want me to do?”
“Ah… It’s… it’s going to… burst…”
“You think this is enough to break you? Or do you just want to release?”
“Ah… y-yes… ngh… Master, p-please stop… I-I really will…!”
Once again, Nael felt the same overwhelming sensation as before, when he had spilled like a fountain.
His grip on the bedding weakened, his head tilting back as his body arched.
The relentless stimulation should have been painful, yet a strange thrill coursed through him.
“I-I… I can’t… Ahh…!”
Drool trickled down his parted lips, trailing along his jawline. His face, wet with tears and saliva, looked utterly undone.
“Ahn! I… I’m coming!”
His entire body tensed, muscles locking in place, and at the same time, he released.
His chest rose and fell rapidly as he gasped for breath.
Killian gathered the evidence of his climax, spreading it over the flushed tip.
Nael, completely unaware of what was happening, simply lay there, basking in the lingering pleasure.
His legs remained splayed, but he made no move to resist or protest—perhaps too dazed to even form words.
His mouth opened and closed as if struggling to catch his breath.
As Killian pressed against his entrance, slowly pushing forward, Nael let out a choked moan.
The tight pressure made his entire body tremble, his cries spilling out in broken gasps.
It felt as though his entire being was turning into nothing but sensation.
Somewhere between the heat and the pleasure, his mind drifted.
“Ah… ha… ngh…!”
Nael’s thighs trembled violently, his body reacting instinctively.
His hands gripped behind his knees, pulling himself open as if urging Killian deeper.
“Hngh…”
His brows knitted tightly, an expression of both struggle and surrender.
The heat surrounding Killian was slick and unbearably tight, clenching around him each time he moved.
The sensation was overwhelming, making the walls contract and release in a relentless rhythm.
“Nael.”
“Hnn… y-yes…?”
“Were you afraid of the storm?”
“A-at a time like this…? Hngh… y-yes…”
His words came out slurred, his mind fogged over by the overwhelming sensations.
And yet, Killian still teased, questioning him as if testing his limits.
Nael didn’t complain.
“I’ll take it slow.”
“Th…thank… ah… ngh…!”
He wasn’t sure he could handle it if Killian decided otherwise.
But if he said it, he meant it. Killian wasn’t the type to lie.
As the pace slowed, a new sensation crept in—deep, steady, and unrelenting.
The heat only seemed to build, making Nael shift unconsciously.
“Master… ngh…!”
Being with Killian wasn’t always terrifying.
Though it was still overwhelming, he found himself sinking into the undeniable pleasure Killian offered.
A thin ray of sunlight cast over Killian’s body, illuminating the scars marking his chest.
His body, strong and unyielding like a wall, radiated a heat even greater than Nael’s own.
Many called Killian a war-mad beast, a Grand Duke drenched in the scent of blood.
But in Nael’s eyes, he looked like an unstoppable god of war.
The sweat trickling down his elegant features couldn’t possibly tarnish his beauty.
The ends of his long black hair clung to his sweat-drenched torso.
Nael reached out and lightly grasped the sleek, jet-black strands.
It was an impulsive act—he simply wanted to touch them, expecting them to feel as soft as they looked.
Killian allowed it without hesitation.
“It’s fine. Go ahead and touch.”
“So soft… Master. So… deep…”
“I’m only halfway in.”
Nael spread his arms wide.
Killian’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.
Tilting his head, he captured Nael’s lips in his own, pushing in firmly, his tongue tangling with Nael’s as if stealing what little breath he had left.
Even as his face flushed red, Nael didn’t push him away—a praiseworthy response.
When Killian finally pulled back, a thin silver thread of saliva still connected them.
He traced the tip of his tongue along Nael’s neat row of teeth, teasing the roof of his mouth, eliciting soft moans that spilled out and melted into Killian’s throat.
“Nael, if you do well, I’ll take you with me on the next expedition. If circumstances allow, we’ll even stop by the South. I promise.”
“Ahn…!”
There was no doubt why Nael was crying.
He was thinking about his sister, whom he had left behind in the South.
* * *
