Bermuda

If this had been before, he would have felt both grateful and resentful—how obsessively His Grace cared about his health.

But this time, that consideration, that promise of “next time,” did not feel disappointing.

Perhaps because what followed was no different from being taken.

“Mm—ah—!”

A strained moan burst from Leonardo as he was pressed against the wall. The already humid tiles trapped the heat of his breath in uneven strands. At the same time, wet, slapping sounds echoed continuously between their thighs.

Thk, thk, thk. The rhythm quickened.

Eventually it shifted into dull, heavy impacts that struck flesh with force.

“Ah—w-wait, s-slow—”

Their breathing, spilling between parted lips, grew shorter and more ragged. The sudden, repeated intensity made Leonardo’s voice tremble in fine vibrations as he barely managed to speak. The man pressed tightly behind him had accelerated like a horse under the lash.

This hadn’t been expected. Unlike his earlier clumsy attempt, this was practiced—skilled—and it left Leonardo shaken.

Hugo’s thighs, looking twice as thick, flexed powerfully as they drove forward and back in steady rhythm. It felt as if he were stamping a mark onto Leonardo’s body. Each pass between his legs brought the heavy weight crashing relentlessly, leaving his pale skin flushed red from the repeated impact.

“Ah— Hugo—”

“Hah... ha. Leo... kh—”

It was a scene easy to misunderstand, yet their tongues circled only each other’s names. Wet flesh clung tightly together.

Each time, a suppressed sound slipped from Hugo’s lips as he forced himself to hold back. Even as he drove forward, if the body in his arms threatened to give way, he adjusted, slowing just enough to drag the motion out. That deliberate control cut sharply into Leonardo’s rising pleasure.

“Mm... ah... hn—”

The slick, obscene sounds burrowed into him, as if they might crush even his thoughts. The slower rhythm only pushed him closer to collapse. Leonardo swayed helplessly, occasionally knocking his forehead against the tile—but he didn’t feel the pain.

“Just—ah—faster...”

“Hah... faster?”

Hugo exhaled roughly and reached up, covering Leonardo’s forehead with his hand.

“Before, you said... slow.”

“No—ah...”

“That won’t make it end any sooner.”

He didn’t stop. Gripping the narrow waist, Hugo continued the motion, carving the path again and again. At the same time, with a simple gesture, he gathered the falling water into a single mass.

Shaping it, he formed a cushion of water between Leonardo and the wall so his head wouldn’t strike it again.

“Mm... ah—”

“Lean your head. Don’t hit it.”

Each thrust sent ripples across the pooled water. The impact Leonardo endured was partially softened—but without the wall to brace himself against, he had nowhere to support his body.

As his footing faltered under the constant pressure, Leonardo reached out weakly, fingers trembling as he searched for something to hold onto. But even that faint attempt was caught and stopped.

“Ah—”

“Give me your hands.”

Hugo twisted both of Leonardo’s arms behind him, holding his wrists in one hand so they wouldn’t strain. A brief ache passed through his shoulder, but Leonardo only knit his brows slightly, saying nothing. The voice that occasionally called his name without warning paralyzed him like the cry of a beast.

“Hah... Leo.”

The low voice sank into his ear, vibrating through him in a different way. The sound of Hugo’s voice, trembling faintly with excitement, seemed to pull at him. Leonardo could only answer with a broken moan, shoulders twitching.

At that moment, Hugo’s free hand rose, circling the hardened peak at his chest with the tip of his finger.

“Ah—!”

With his arms pinned back and chest thrust forward, there was no escaping it. Each touch made the flushed skin tighten further, sensitive and reactive.

Even knowing the intent behind the touch, Leonardo couldn’t move.

“D-don’t... touch me like that...”

He could have pulled his arms free if he tried—but instead he only trembled, his abdomen rising and falling sharply as he yielded to it. His damp lashes clung together, glistening. Certain now that it wasn’t unwanted, Hugo’s movements grew bolder.

His long fingers pressed and twisted, drawing sharper reactions. At the same time, the weight below surged upward again.

“Ah—!”

A small release escaped, slipping free and trailing downward. The warmth spread slowly, pooling before being washed away.

Hugo’s gaze darkened as he watched.

Before, he might have held his tongue—but now there was no point.

“...Leo.”

The man who wore the mask of an Imperial Duke descended another step entirely.

“Can you feel it there too?”

“Y-you... don’t say things like that...”

Leonardo couldn’t bring himself to refuse the question. He was already reacting to it.

Hugo’s fingers tightened slightly, testing.

“Ah—don’t—”

Leonardo flinched, twisting under the sensation.

Hugo watched him closely, then smiled faintly, something darker in his eyes.

“No matter what you wear... it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Even dressed in the finest things, none of it remained. What was left was only this—his body, soaked and exposed, moving like something instinctive.

And Hugo found that freedom... enjoyable.

“Seems you like this too.”

His voice softened as he leaned in, pressing his lips along Leonardo’s neck and jaw.

The damp skin carried a faint sweetness. His tongue traced it, before his teeth followed, biting down just enough to leave a mark.

“Ah—!”

This time, it hurt.

Leonardo’s eyes widened, breath breaking apart. His body arched, caught between pain and something sharper.

Even then, the movement continued, relentless.

The friction built, thick and heavy, until the tension snapped—

“Mm—!”

A sharp tremor ran through him, down to his fingertips.

The release came suddenly, violently, spilling forward as his body shook.

At the same time, Hugo’s breath broke as well, the rhythm collapsing into a final surge.

The result spread across the surface beneath them—indistinguishable, mixed together, leaving no clear boundary between what belonged to whom.

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