Lucien stared heatedly at Elian’s throbbing cock before lifting his gaze to Elian.
"I’m on my knees for you, Elian. Fuck your anger away into my mouth." He smirked, green eyes blazing with dark hunger.
Elian’s breath caught, his hands hovering uncertainly. Lucien didn’t wait. With his bare hands, he gripped Elian’s hips firmly—skin against skin—and leaned forward. His hot tongue dragged slowly from base to tip, swirling around the flushed head before he took Elian deep in one smooth motion.
A broken moan tore from Elian’s throat. Lucien’s mouth was velvet heat, wet and relentless. He sucked hard, cheeks hollowing as he bobbed his head, taking every inch until his nose brushed against Elian’s pelvis. The obscene, wet sounds of suction filled the room—slick, filthy, and shameless. Lucien swallowed around him, his throat constricting rhythmically, milking Elian with expert pulls that made his knees buckle.
"Fuck—Lucien..." Elian gasped, fingers threading into the Duke’s damp hair, gripping tight.
Lucien groaned in approval, the vibration shooting straight through Elian’s cock. He pulled back with a lewd pop, strings of saliva connecting his lips to the glistening length, only to dive back down faster. His hands kneaded Elian’s ass, spreading him open while his mouth worked him mercilessly—sucking, licking, swallowing every drop of precum like it was nectar.
Elian’s hips jerked forward uncontrollably. Lucien took it all, eyes watering but locked on Elian’s face, watching every twitch of pleasure with possessive satisfaction. He hummed deeply, his throat fluttering as he swallowed Elian to the hilt again and again, the tight, wet heat pushing Elian closer to the edge with devastating skill.
When Elian finally came with a strangled cry, Lucien swallowed every pulse, every thick spurt, milking him through the orgasm until Elian was trembling and oversensitive. Only then did Lucien pull off, licking his lips with a satisfied growl, a faint sheen of cum still glistening at the corner of his mouth.
He rose slowly, his hands sliding up Elian’s sides. Cupping Elian’s face, he kissed him deeply. The taste of Elian’s own release lingered on Lucien’s tongue as he devoured his mouth in a slow, claiming kiss—tender yet hungry, pouring everything he couldn’t say into it.
Elian whimpered into the kiss, his hands roaming over Lucien’s bare chest and back, exploring the hard muscle and warm skin while Lucien kept his hands carefully controlled, never letting his bare palms touch Elian directly.
Lucien broke the kiss only to guide Elian backward toward the grand four-poster bed. He eased him down onto the soft furs and silk sheets, then retrieved the small vial of oil from where he had tossed it earlier. Stripping away his own towel, Lucien joined him on the bed, gloriously naked and alluring.
He poured the scented oil generously over his fingers and his own aching cock, the slick sounds intimate in the firelit room. Positioning himself between Elian’s spread thighs, Lucien leaned down, pressing their foreheads together.
"Just us," he whispered huskily, his voice thick with need and something deeper. "Let me take you slowly tonight, Elian."
He entered Elian with exquisite care—inch by inch, majestic and unhurried—the oil making the slide smooth and deep.
Elian gasped at the stretch, his nails digging into Lucien’s shoulders as the Duke filled him completely. Lucien stilled once buried to the hilt, trembling with restraint, letting Elian adjust while he kissed him again—soft, lingering kisses along his jaw, throat, and collarbone.
Then he began to move. Slow, rolling thrusts that dragged deliciously against every sensitive spot inside Elian. It wasn’t the usual raw claiming; this was worship. Lucien’s hips moved like a tide, deep and majestic, each stroke drawing broken moans from Elian’s lips. His hands gripped Elian’s thighs, spreading him wider, while Elian’s bare hands explored every inch of Lucien’s back and chest, pulling him closer.
"You feel so perfect," Lucien breathed against his ear, his voice rough with pleasure. "So tight... so mine. Take all of me, baby. Let me stay inside you like this."
Elian arched, his legs wrapping around Lucien’s waist as the slow, sensual rhythm built. Their bodies moved together in perfect sync, sweat-slick and oil-smooth, the fire crackling softly beside them. Lucien’s thrusts grew deeper but never rushed, grinding lovingly against that sweet spot until Elian was whimpering, tears of overwhelming pleasure slipping from the corners of his eyes.
"Lucien..." he cried.
Lucien kissed them away, his bare hands caressing Elian’s face, lips, and body heat.
"Fuck, Elian," Lucien groaned, his chest tightening from the overwhelming feeling of the man beneath him.
Lucien’s thrusts remained slow and majestic, each deep roll of his hips deliberate, as though he wanted to memorize every flutter of Elian’s tight heat around him. The oil made everything slick and effortless, the wet sound of their joining soft and intimate beneath the crackle of the fire and the distant roar of the storm.
"Don’t ever ignore me, Elian... never," he sucked Elian’s ear into his mouth, biting the soft skin gently.
"Oh god... Lucien... it feels so good," Elian moaned shamelessly, his legs tightening around Lucien’s waist, his heels digging into the Duke’s lower back as another slow, grinding thrust dragged perfectly over that sensitive spot inside him. A wrecked moan slipped from his lips, his head falling back against the silk pillows.
"Lucien..." he gasped, the name sounding dangerously intimate in the firelit room.
Lucien shuddered at the sound, his hands gripping Elian’s thighs tighter, spreading him wider so he could sink even deeper. His hand felt so smooth against Elian’s heated skin; his eyes flew to Elian’s hands, wishing he could hold them. But it was a constant reminder of the barrier Lucien refused to cross. The rest of Elian—his broad chest, his powerful hips, the hard planes of his stomach—pressed flush and hot against Elian’s body with every unhurried stroke.
"You’re taking me so well," Lucien whispered huskily against Elian’s throat, his lips brushing skin as he kissed and sucked lightly. "So perfect around my cock... like you were made for this. For me." He rolled his hips again, slow and deep, grinding in small circles that made Elian’s toes curl and his cock twitch between their stomachs.
Elian’s bare hands roamed frantically over Lucien’s back, his nails scraping down the strong muscles, pulling him impossibly closer. He could feel every flex and shift of Lucien’s body as the Duke moved inside him, the raw power held carefully in check. It was overwhelming—this tenderness, this aching slowness that felt far more dangerous than any brutal claiming.
Lucien captured Elian’s mouth again in a deep, languid kiss, their tongues sliding together as he continued the majestic rhythm. Each thrust pushed a soft, needy sound from Elian’s throat that Lucien swallowed greedily. The Duke’s fingers slid up to grip Elian’s hips, angling him just right so every stroke dragged along his prostate with devastating precision.
"Feel that?" Lucien breathed between kisses, his voice rough with restraint and pleasure. "I’m so deep inside you... and you’re clenching around me like you never want me to leave." He snapped his hips forward a fraction harder, still controlled, still worshipping. "Tell me how it feels, Elian. Tell me you want me to stay right here."
Elian whimpered, his eyes glassy with overwhelming sensation. "It feels... too good," he admitted brokenly, his cheeks flushed, his body arching into every thrust. "Lucien... please—"
The plea undid something in Lucien. His pace stayed slow but grew deeper, more purposeful, his hips rolling with sensual precision as he drove them both higher. Sweat glistened on their skin, mixing with the faint scent of oil and arousal. Lucien’s mouth never left Elian for long—kissing his lips, his jaw, the sensitive spot beneath his ear—while his hands held him steady, possessive yet careful.
When Elian finally came again, it hit him like a slow wave, his inner walls pulsing and squeezing tightly around Lucien’s cock as he spilled between their pressed bodies with a shattered cry.
Lucien groaned deeply, burying his face in Elian’s neck as the intense contractions pulled him over the edge right after. He came in long, powerful pulses, flooding Elian with heat while still moving in those lazy, majestic thrusts, drawing out every last tremor of pleasure for both of them.
They stayed locked together for long moments afterward, panting softly. Lucien pressed gentle kisses along Elian’s collarbone and shoulder, his hands stroking soothing patterns over Elian’s sides and thighs. He remained buried deep inside him, unwilling to separate just yet.
"You’re mine tonight," Lucien whispered against Elian’s damp skin, his voice low and sated, almost reverent. "In this cabin... just us. Only this."
Elian’s fingers traced lazy circles on Lucien’s back, too blissed out and emotionally raw to argue. The fire continued to crackle, the storm raged on, and for a little while longer, the complicated tangle of pain, obsession, and desperate need between them felt almost like peace.
Finally, Lucien slowly withdrew, drawing a quiet, disapproving moan from Elian’s lips.
"Let me hold you tonight, Elian..." Lucien whispered, pulling Elian on top of his chest as he lay on his back.
Elian didn’t protest, too blissed-out to fight. His hand splayed flat on Lucien’s chest, his thumb lazily circling the hardened nipple.
Lucien stiffened, steadying Elian’s finger, "Sleep, Elian. You only have a little while to rest," he murmured.
Elian lifted his face to stare at Lucien, "Why a little while? The sun just set," he reasoned.
Lucien’s lips curved into a smooth smile for the first time, "Because I’ll be fucking you all night, young Morel," he whispered, sealing his lips against Elian’s.
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