* * *
With a faint smirk, Killian rested his hardened cock against Nael’s face.
“Close your eyes.”
Nael obeyed, shutting his eyelids as the hot weight settled against them.
His tear-damp lashes trembled before stilling, his long tongue darting out to lick wherever it could reach.
He lapped up the mess of his own cum, slick, and Killian’s precum with relish, savoring it as if it were delicious.
Killian dragged his cock along the bridge of Nael’s nose, slow and deliberate.
Ah, as expected… Just this face alone could make him come.
A different kind of pleasure surged—one distinct from the heat coiling in his gut.
Blood rushed downward, his cock swelling to an almost painful hardness.
Nael’s brows twitched helplessly, his expression tightening.
“Don’t open them.”
Nael squeezed his eyes shut, long lashes fluttering.
Just the friction against the delicate slope of his nose was enough to send Killian hurtling toward release.
Nngh… Mm… Short, stifled moans slipped past Nael’s clenched teeth.
Familiar pleasure soaked his lower half, his cock twitching arrogantly against Nael’s hole.
As the pace of Killian’s strokes quickened, Nael parted his lips slightly, waiting in breathless anticipation.
“Haa…”
A sigh-like moan escaped as thick, sticky cum gushed out, coating Nael’s nose before dripping messily over his lips and chin.
Nael carefully opened his eyes.
He caught the trails of Killian’s release with his tongue, sucking them away with quiet obedience.
“Damn it. A face like this is a crime.”
“…Huh?”
“Even covered in cum, you look so happy about it.”
“Of course. Because it’s yours, Master.”
His answer was matter-of-fact, as if the question itself were unnecessary.
Every time Nael blinked, Killian felt a pang of regret at the way his jewel-like green eyes disappeared behind his lids.
Nael even wiped the stray streaks of cum with his fingers before sucking them clean, as if savoring candy.
No doubt about it—you were born to tempt me.
Killian flipped Nael onto his stomach.
Unfazed, Nael buried his face in the sheets and spread his legs on his own.
“Why’s your hole twitching so much?”
“Nngh…”
As if embarrassed, Nael rubbed his face against the sheets, taking a shaky breath.
Killian’s gaze drifted between his legs—to his pink, dripping cock and the tight, rounded sac beneath it.
A light slap against his thigh made Nael shiver.
Killian toyed with him idly, like playing with a ball, and Nael let out tiny, whimpering cries.
“Still scared?”
“I don’t know… I just— What if I break too much? What if you get tired of me? That’s why I keep… Hic… crying.”
“I’ve told you before. That won’t happen.”
People said Killian had everything—birth, wealth, talent, looks.
Yet Nael had never once praised his appearance.
Only once had he touched Killian’s hair and called it soft.
Instead, he grieved over his scars.
It must’ve hurt… You must’ve been in danger…
Melting Killian’s heart with words unrelated to his achievements.
How could I ever ruin you?
I treasure you this much.
Do you still not understand?
For a moment, he felt a pang of hurt—but then he accepted it.
Nael was so painfully innocent, grateful for even the smallest things given to him.
You should be greedier by now.
As long as what you crave is me.
Killian’s cock, still hard despite his release, showed no signs of softening.
He pushed back into Nael’s loosened hole, and Nael arched his neck in response.
The sensation of being filled again, inch by inch, was vivid.
Nael’s breath hitched, his heart pounding wildly.
Killian gripped Nael’s hips and pushed deeper inside.
Ah, hh… Nael’s waist trembled finely as he pressed his forehead against the sheets.
“Ngh…”
“Gonna come already?”
Killian teased, amused by how tightly Nael clenched around him despite having barely begun.
The round back of Nael’s head bobbed slightly—a small, jerky nod.
“Then come.”
At his command, Nael slowly relaxed the tension in his stomach.
Killian dragged his cock along the swollen walls inside, stroking back and forth until the thick, sensitive spot was grazed by the head.
Each brush sent a jolt up Nael’s spine.
“Haah… Master.”
Pleasure raced along his straight back, searing through his entire body like ice melting under the sun.
His skin flushed patchily before he spilled over with a shudder.
“Nngh…”
“Does all the food you eat just turn into cum?”
The thought flickered through Killian’s mind—no matter how much he fed Nael, the boy never seemed to gain weight.
Maybe it was because his release was always this excessive.
“Hng… No…”
That was all Nael could manage before the slow, deep thrusts turned into a relentless storm.
His sweet spot was hit over and over, his insides twisting into a mess.
The pleasure built like a firework ready to explode, burning all the way to his scalp.
He clenched his thighs, terrified something other than cum might burst out when he finally broke.
“Damn it, Nael. You trying to crush my cock?”
“Hah… Nn… Can’t…”
The already tight walls twisted around Killian’s length like a wrung-out rag.
The pressure was enough to make his head throb, his brow furrowing.
“I’m—gonna—ah…!”
Nael’s mind was sticky with pleasure, dizzy from lack of air.
His untouched cock ached, twitching in the open air as if ready to burst.
Flowers of ecstasy bloomed along every nerve—he felt like his sanity might shatter.
“Ah—Master…!”
A clear stream gushed from Nael’s cock.
The days passed quietly, peacefully.
The grand ducal estate was always silent, and Nael’s movements remained confined to a set routine.
The increasingly snowless days hinted that winter’s end was near—though the lingering cold, as if resentful of spring’s approach, brought one last sharp drop in temperature.
Killian announced he’d be away for two days, citing business.
Barely a day had passed, but Nael, who’d spent the night sleepless, felt his body heavy as lead.
He stared out the window all day, chasing the shadow of a man who wasn’t there.
Even the baron—who Nael had half-expected to seek him out—had quietly left for the south.
It was for the best.
He wouldn’t have known what to say if they’d met.
How is the baroness’s health?
Have you checked on my sister’s condition?
Nael had rehearsed the words in his head, but the chance to speak them never came.
Perhaps it was a blessing.
The official reason for Edward’s departure was his declining health—the harsh northern life had worn him down, and he couldn’t stay much longer.
But after hearing rumors that his time in brothels had left his mind unstable, Nael stopped mentioning him altogether.
Killian had branded him a criminal, and in these lands, his word was law.
Thinking of Edward left a bitter taste.
If he’d stayed in the south, he could’ve lived comfortably.
Instead, a moment of curiosity had doomed him to a life of ruin.
The caretaker Killian assigned was utterly reliable, ensuring Lily’s meals, medicine, and every necessity were perfectly managed.
She’ll never suffer the baron’s touch again, Killian had promised.
She’ll never be forced into another noble’s bed like you were.
He’d even found a sharp-eyed physician to oversee her care—her coughing had eased, and she was regaining enough strength for daily life.
The relief had sunk deep into Nael’s bones.
“I’ll take care of Lily. Don’t worry. Whoever matters to you matters to me.”
Nael neatly folded the scented stationery and slipped it into an envelope, sealing it with Killian’s stamp in place of his own.
He placed the letter inside a wooden box.
Since learning to write, he’d penned letters to Lily like daily diary entries.
* * *
