He used his thumb to wipe some blood from his lip and pressed it firmly but softly onto Elian’s lower lip, smearing it like a lip colorant across Elian’s mouth.
Elian should have felt disgusted, yet he found himself sticking his tongue out to take Lucien’s blood off his lip, his ears turning red from the dirty action.
"Do you not like it when I fuck you?" Lucien whispered against Elian’s lips, his hand lowering to cup Elian’s ass from behind, pressing him firmly against his hips.
Elian gulped, "I... I do..." He answered shamefully.
Lucien smirked, his lips brushing against Elian’s cheek, staining Elian’s spotless skin with his blood. "Do you not beg me for more? Faster... deeper... harder—"
"I do, okay?! I do, can you stop now?" Elian’s voice cracked as he held back tears.
He hated himself for doing everything Lucien accused. He said he was no whore, yet the moment Lucien’s hand touched him, he begged and cried like one.
"See, young Morel..." Lucien tilted Elian’s face, "That makes you my whore." He kissed Elian’s nose.
"Only I can make you scream the way you do. Only I can make you beg and cry. Only I know that you’re such a whore when no one is looking... you’re my whore, always will be," he whispered.
"I—" He never got to finish his words as Lucien’s lips sealed over his own, kissing him with urgent hunger.
Lucien kissed Elian with his bloodied lips, his hands pulling Elian impossibly close against himself. His tongue smoothly slipped past Elian’s parted lips, fucking his mouth the way his straining cock intended to fuck his ass.
Elian moaned deep in his throat, his hands finding their way into Lucien’s hair, clutching and tugging at the soft locks as he pulled Lucien closer to deepen their breathtaking kiss.
Slowly, Lucien pulled away, plastering soft kisses along Elian’s forehead, cheeks, and chin.
"Just..." Lucien was breathless, their foreheads pressed together, "Never say things that make me feel like you’re not mine," he whispered huskily.
Elian inhaled deeply, trying to steady his heartbeat, eyes glazed over and lusty.
"Do you love me?" Elian blurted out.
The trees in the orchard suddenly stopped waving, crickets went quiet, and the very air stilled.
Lucien was frozen against the tree, his heart almost bursting through his ribs as it racketed aggressively. His eyes slowly found Elian’s, his limbs feeling heavy and shaky as he stared into Elian’s commanding blue eyes.
"What did you say?" His voice was edgy and rough.
Elian sighed, "You’re confusing, Lucien."
"I am now?" Lucien arched a questioning brow.
Elian lowered his hands to his sides, "Why are you acting like you fucking love me?" He threw the forbidden question again, pulse dancing in his ears.
Silence.
It was as if some taboo word had been uttered and now, the people involved shall face an eternal curse.
"I am simply asking—"
"Do not speak like a fool," Lucien snapped.
"Never mention that to me, do you hear me?" he asked.
Elian untangled himself from Lucien, taking a step back. "I am simply confused, Your Grace. I do know that it’s impossible because even I am scared and petrified by the possibility." He sounded stern, lacing his fingers together behind him.
He was petrified by the idea, right?
Of course!
Why not?
Lucien chuckled dryly, "I know what you’re doing. You think you can get me to fall in love with you—"
"I do not want your love, Lucien! You killed my father!" Elian snapped sharply.
"Good," Lucien nodded, "Then keep it in mind and never ask such foolish questions," he added.
Elian was quiet, fingers curling into his palms.
"You said it yourself, I am obsessed with you." He leaned off the tree and moved closer to Elian, "Obsession is not love, young Morel. I simply crave to own you in every way possible, to break you, and have you confess to the evil your father committed. Do not make me resort to punishing you because I will," he threatened.
Elian scoffed, "Sex with you is my worst punishment. I despise it," he spat bitterly.
"I hate you so much," Elian narrowed his eyes at Lucien.
Lucien smirked, closing the space between them and tugging Elian closer by his collar. "Sex with me is punishment?" His hand lowered between Elian’s legs, cupping his hardening cock. "Then let’s get you punished before dawn awakes." He shoved his hand inside Elian’s pants.
Lucien’s grip tightened around Elian’s warm, hardening length, stroking him with slow, deliberate pumps that quickly brought Elian to full hardness. The moonlight filtered through the orchard leaves, casting shifting shadows over their tangled bodies as Elian’s breath hitched sharply.
Elian grabbed Lucien’s shoulders, fingers digging tightly through the fabric of his shirt, clutching desperately as pleasure shot through him. His hips bucked involuntarily into Lucien’s fist, chasing the firm rhythm.
"You submit so shamelessly to me," Lucien whispered hotly against Elian’s ear, his voice low and dripping with dark satisfaction. "Look at you—already leaking for your master’s touch. No fight left in you when I have your cock in my hand." He twisted his wrist on the upstroke, thumbing over the sensitive head. "Is this the kind of punishment you like, Elian? Being stroked and used like my personal whore under the stars?"
Elian whimpered, his forehead dropping against Lucien’s shoulder, body trembling with every slick stroke. "I... I hate it," he gasped, even as his fingers dug deeper into Lucien’s back, pulling him closer.
Lucien chuckled darkly, nipping at Elian’s jaw while continuing the relentless strokes. "Liar. Your body betrays you every time."
They were lost in the heat of it—Lucien’s hand working Elian faster, their breaths mingling—when a quiet footstep crunched over dry leaves, followed by the sharp snap of a twig.
They froze instantly. Lucien’s hand stilled inside Elian’s pants, both of them tense and alert. Elian’s heart hammered wildly as he peered over Lucien’s broad shoulder into the darkened orchard path.
His blood ran cold.
There, half-hidden by the trees, stood his mother. Her eyes were wide with shock and betrayal, one hand pressed over her mouth as if to stifle a gasp. The pain and horror etched across her face hit Elian like a physical blow.
"Mother..." Elian whispered in mortification, his voice barely audible, his body going rigid against Lucien’s.
A suppressed sob escaped his mother’s lips as she quickly turned away, holding a hand to her chest.
Elian staggered away from Lucien like he’d been burned, his hands trembling as he struggled to fix himself up.
Lucien didn’t budge; he simply stood there, watching the horror on Elian’s face as he tried to salvage a situation that had gone sour. At that moment, he realized just how deep Elian’s disgust and hatred ran for him. He saw it in the way Elian acted, looked, and trembled like he’d been caught slaughtering a pregnant woman.
It left a bitter taste in his mouth. He always knew Elian hated him, but seeing Elian in total panic because his mother caught them, seeing him look like he was ready to set himself ablaze just to prove a point to his mother, left Lucien feeling rejected and unwanted at the same time.
"Mother—"
"Stay where you are," Lucien commanded coldly.
Elian blinked up at Lucien in disbelief, "I need to explain to her," he murmured shakily.
Lucien didn’t react; he just stood there like an unmoving statue, staring at Elian with determined eyes.
"Your Grace... Lucien—"
"Leave, Mrs. Morel; we shall talk about your punishment for trespassing in the morning—"
"Fuck you!" Elian suddenly pushed against Lucien’s chest, shoving the Duke away from his front.
Lucien was surprised by the shove, but he did nothing about it. He could have commanded Elian to stop; he could have easily reached out and stopped him, but he didn’t. He just stood there and watched Elian go.
Elian quickly ran toward his mother, reaching for her frail hand, but just when he was about to touch her, she moved away from him.
"M-mother?" Elian’s voice cracked, his breath escaping his trembling lips.
Mrs. Morel stared at him with blank eyes, her face hardened, "Your father would be so disappointed," she spoke quietly, her voice hoarse.
Elian shook his head vehemently, "No, no, Mother, you are misunderstanding everything—"
"Your father died for nothing. You’ve betrayed our family...." She sniffed, her silent tears falling, "The same man who killed your father is the same man who gives you pleasure; you have killed my soul, Elian," she murmured and turned away.
"No," Elian caught her wrists, falling to his knees, "No, Mother, please, listen to me," he cried, his vision blurring with tears.
Mrs. Morel slowly turned, staring down at her son with unfamiliar eyes, "There is nothing to hear, Elian. I see it all now." She glanced at Lucien with hatred seeping through her gaze.
"While I was in that dark, cold dungeon, wishing death upon the Duke and his household, you were right here, moaning shamelessly for the devil." She paused, lifted her face up, and took a deep breath.
When she stared down at Elian again, Elian felt the instant change in her, and his hands on her wrists trembled and loosened.
"Mother—"
"From now, you cease to be my son. An associate of an enemy is an enemy," Mrs. Morel spoke with a cold tone, snatching her hand from her son’s grip.
Elian didn’t speak; he couldn’t. He just sat on his heels, sobbing heavily with regret coursing through his veins.
"Your Grace, you don’t need to punish me for trespassing; I will gladly return to the dungeon. Perhaps rotting there would be the only solace to my soul," she stated and turned away, slowly walking further and further away from her weeping son.
Elian snapped his head up, anger mixing with his sorrow in his chest, "I hate him!" he screamed. "I hate him just as much as you do! I’m doing this for us! To avenge Father!" he cried, his shoulders slouching.
His mother paused but never turned to look at him, "Your actions contradict your words, Elian." With that, she walked away, leaving the orchard.
Elian fell flat on the ground, clutching the grasses as he wept hopelessly.
The only person he strived to please had turned their back on him, and it was all because of Lucien. His mother had abandoned him in the belief that he was in cahoots with the Duke; it broke his heart into a million pieces, shredding away the last strand of hope he was holding onto.
Lucien’s footsteps slowly approached him, and the closer they got, the angrier Elian became.
A sudden surge of strength overtook him and he slowly peeled himself away from the floor, facing Lucien with a clenched jaw.
Lucien paused, sensing the shift in Elian’s countenance.
He had watched the exchange between mother and son, and it had switched something deep in his soul that he thought he’d killed many years ago: guilt.
But how could he suddenly confess to feeling guilty? That would require him to lose the upper hand and condescend. He never condescends.
"I asked you not to speak to her," Lucien said, slowly stepping closer to Elian.
Elian was seething, glaring at Lucien through tears, "You’re a devil—"
"A devil who was trying to save you from the pain I knew you’d face," Lucien’s voice was calm, steady.
He paused right in front of Elian, green eyes taking in the wrecked man in front of him, "You shouldn’t have gone to—" A resounding slap landed perfectly on his cheek.
His face swung to the side, his cheek stinging. For the second time that night, Elian put his hands on him.
Flexing his jaw, he turned to Elian, his eyes darkened with rage, "You will not lay your hands on me again. Never," he warned.
Elian scoffed, "Or else?" He lifted his tear-stained face, "You send my mother back to the dungeon?" He laughed dryly, "Go ahead, you’re doing her a favor; she’d rather die than set her eyes on me. And it’s all because of you!" He lost it and threw his fists against Lucien’s chest, cutting and crying.
Lucien stood still. For some reason, the hits from Elian didn’t phase him; what struck him harder than a blow was the look in Elian’s eyes. He saw a man who had just lost everything and was ready to go rogue, even if it meant dying.
And Elian dying was one thing he’d realized he feared worse than his own death.
Slowly, he caught Elian’s wrists and pulled him in against his body, wrapping his arms tightly around him.
Elian was livid, struggling aggressively against Lucien’s hold, "Let me go, you fucking bastard—"
"Shh..." Lucien hushed softly, tucking Elian’s face under his neck and burying his nose in Elian’s hair, "It’s alright, Elian. Calm down—I’m here for you—"
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