* * *
Killian was quick to catch even the slightest shift in thought and wasted no time in wringing him dry.
Nael was just relieved he hadn’t been slapped.
With the determination to squeeze out every last drop, Killian pressed him to his limit, wielding him without mercy.
At this rate, his cock might end up ruined—or torn off entirely.
Nael forced his eyes open, meeting Killian’s blazing gaze head-on.
The sheer intensity of it sent chills down his spine, making him want to turn away.
Even in the midst of this, a thin stream spurted weakly from Nael’s cock.
“Ugh….”
The lovemaking that had started in the early morning only came to an end by midday.
Sunlight streaming through the window fell upon Nael’s face, making him squint.
He frowned against the brightness, raising a hand to create some shade.
He wanted to draw the curtains, but he didn’t have the strength to move even a single step.
There was no doubt about it—Killian had the stamina of a beast.
Even now, the thing beneath his navel stood tall, just as rigid as when it had first entered.
If Aiden hadn’t shown up midway, Killian would have gone on until nightfall without hesitation.
Cursing under his breath, he finally pulled away, giving Nael’s reddened backside a couple of light pats before moving off.
The constant impact had left the flesh swollen and tender.
Aiden’s cautious voice had come through the door after his knocks went unanswered.
“Your Grace, I have an urgent matter to discuss.”
Killian, rather than acknowledging him, had deliberately pounded into Nael harder, drawing a sharp cry from his lips.
Mischievous yet irritated, as if to say he didn’t want to be disturbed, his exasperated words barely slipped through the gap in the door.
By then, he had no choice but to part from Nael—though not without taking his time to finish inside him first.
Aiden must have been waiting outside the entire time.
“…He must have heard everything.”
Nael pulled the blanket over his head, embarrassment surging from his toes to his fingertips.
If he could, he would’ve hidden away forever.
But the damp blanket, saturated with the lingering scent of night-blooming flowers, made it unbearable to stay buried for long.
The moment he caught the scent, vivid memories of what had just transpired came rushing back.
“Puhah!”
He gasped for fresh air, like someone emerging from deep water.
The massive bed, large enough to accommodate six grown men, suddenly felt uncomfortable.
He rolled to a dry corner, but his whole body felt sticky, soaked in sweat.
He wanted to wash up, but he was alone in the bedroom, merely wiggling his toes as he stared at the door.
His body ached too much to do anything else.
Right on cue, a knock sounded, and Ren entered cautiously, carrying warm water and a clean cloth.
Soon after, John followed with fresh bed linens.
Unlike Ren and Norman, John seemed visibly uncomfortable, his eyes darting around the room.
His downcast gaze almost looked… sympathetic.
With nowhere to escape, Nael barely poked his eyes out from beneath the blanket.
He was too mortified to show his face.
Hiding from Ren alone would have been bad enough, but John being here, too?
Nael bit his lower lip, swollen from Killian’s relentless attention.
“Lord Nael, you’re awake. Shall I prepare a meal for you?”
“No, not right now. Um… I’d like to wash first, if possible.”
“We’re preparing hot water, but I’ve brought a clean cloth in the meantime. I can help you wipe down.”
Nael hesitated under the blanket.
There was no way he could show John the bruises imprinted all over his body.
Sensing his reluctance, Ren subtly signaled John, who still stood there in shock.
It was clear he should excuse himself, but he remained frozen.
Even when Ren nudged him in the side, John only stared at the rumpled blankets.
Ren cleared his throat.
“John, bring the bathtub. It’ll be difficult for him to walk there.”
“……”
“John!”
Clap. Clap. Ren snapped his fingers to get his attention.
“Ah! Y-yes, my apologies! I’ll bring it right away.”
There was only one reason John was this dazed—the unmistakable scent of sex, thick in the air.
It was overpowering, enough to sting the nose.
Even Nael, who had been in the room the whole time, could smell it, so for John, stepping in from outside must have been overwhelming.
As soon as John left, Ren spoke quietly.
“His Highness never keeps someone for long. In the bedroom, I mean. From what I’ve observed, no one lasts more than two months. I know this must be difficult right now, but hold on a little longer. Soon, you’ll be free to return to the South.”
“Two months?”
“Yes… Most likely. It won’t be long before you can go home, so stay strong.”
Even after Ren left, his words echoed in Nael’s mind.
Two months?
So Killian brought him here just for a matter of months?
It wasn’t unusual for nobles to have lovers outside of marriage—his own father, a mere baron, had taken a maid as his mistress and sired both him and his sister.
He should have known Killian wouldn’t be any different.
How many people had come and gone before him?
If Killian wasn’t exclusively interested in men, there could be a wife and children waiting for him in the North.
His mother had endured silent torment under the baron’s wife.
No matter how many humiliating tasks she was forced to do, she obeyed without complaint, bowing her head as if it were only natural.
He had pitied her, but having seen it all his life, he never questioned it.
Now, he was in the same position.
Nael curled in on himself and sniffled.
His nose stung, but he refused to let the tears fall.
This wasn’t something to cry over. Just endure a little longer.
Time would solve everything.
He widened his eyes, willing the tears back.
His sniffling?
That was just because his nose itched. He rubbed it furiously with his fingers.
From beyond the closed door, he could hear Ren and John talking in hushed voices.
Ren, clearly frustrated, even raised his voice a few times, but Nael couldn’t focus on their words.
Two months…
Would he really be set free after that?
If Killian lost interest, there would be no reason to keep him.
Could he finally go home then?
The baron was on his way to the North, and if his sister recovered by then…
If they could return together, it would be perfect.
He didn’t know if things would go as planned, but a sliver of hope, once severed, began to weave itself back together.
Amidst the fleeting noise, the bedroom door opened again.
The quiet sigh Ren let out spoke volumes about how much he had just endured.
“I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
“Oh, no… It’s fine.”
* * *
