CHAPTER 138: CHAPTER 133: DESIRE (1)

Gabriel hovered above him, the firelight reflecting in his black eyes, turning them nearly obsidian as shadows danced across his bare skin. He resembled something untouchable, both feral and divine.

"You’re thinking about flipping us," Gabriel said, his tone amused, wicked. He slid his hand up Damian’s chest again, letting his fingers trail over his collarbone before gently wrapping around his throat. Not squeezing, just resting there with a silent claim. "But not yet. I’m not done watching you squirm."

Damian’s lips parted, the breath he took ragged, primal. His arms flexed at his sides, fists clenched where Gabriel had previously pinned them. And yet he obeyed. Still. His pheromones filled the room; unlike the day before, when he was in a rut, they were lighter, easier to breathe, and more pleasurable to indulge in.

"You know I could turn this in a second," Damian growled, but his tone was not threatening. Only desire. Raw, consuming.

"I know," Gabriel whispered. He leaned down, brushing his nose against Damian’s cheek, lips a breath from his ear. "And that’s what makes it so good. You’re letting me."

He shifted again, deliberately grinding down, the wetness between his legs pressing against Damian’s bare skin now, slick and hot and undeniable. Damian hissed, his head falling back against the cushion, the sharp points of his canines barely visible as he attempted—and failed—to control the beast beneath his skin.

Gabriel smiled, victorious and hungry.

"You’ve had everyone kneel," he said, his voice a murmur of silk and smoke. "But not me. Not today."

His lips ghosted over Damian’s jaw as his hand moved lower again, trailing down his abdomen. "But tonight..." he whispered, "I want you inside me."

Damian’s body jerked, a growl rumbling low in his throat.

Gabriel kissed the corner of his mouth. "Don’t make me beg, Your Majesty. I hate repeating myself."

Damian’s body jerked, a growl rumbling low in his throat. His hands shot up, grabbing Gabriel’s hips hard enough to bruise. "Careful, Gabriel," he warned, his voice a low, guttural rasp. "You’re playing with fire."

Gabriel chuckled, the sound dark and melodic. "Oh, I know." He leaned in, locking Damian’s lips in a scorching kiss, his tongue sliding against the Emperor’s with hungry urgency. As he kissed Gabriel more deeply, Damian reciprocated, losing control as his hands moved up his back to seize his shoulders.

Damian’s growl was deep, almost feral, as he grabbed Gabriel’s wrists and easily restrained them to his back. His lips pressed against Gabriel’s, the kiss fierce and demanding, his teeth grazing Gabriel’s lower lip in a way that sent shivers down his spine. Gabriel moaned, arching into Damian’s touch, his body craving more, grinding against his hardness.

Damian broke the kiss only to trail his lips down Gabriel’s throat, tongue flicking against his pulse. "You think you’ve won," he murmured, breath hot, voice rough. "But you forget: I never surrender."

Gabriel’s wrists were still pinned behind him, his spine arching from the restraint, the heat between their bodies unbearable. He gasped when Damian’s tongue licked across his shirt, right where his nipple was under the fabric, a shudder tearing through him as his body responded, slick, eager, aching.

"Then stop pretending," Gabriel rasped, head falling back, neck exposed. "And take what you want."

That was all it took.

Damian growled again, low and thunderous, and in a single motion, he reversed their positions, lifting Gabriel effortlessly and laying him onto the chaise. The movement stole the breath from Gabriel’s lungs not from fear, but from the raw force behind it.

The Emperor now towered over him, golden eyes glowing like molten metal in the firelight, every line of his body poised with reverence and hunger. Even now, he paused, his gaze fixed on Gabriel’s, asking something silently.

Permission.

Gabriel swallowed, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Don’t hold back." His words were all that Damian wanted to hear.

He kissed him again, this time harder, claiming devotion rather than defiance. His hands traced down Gabriel’s thighs, spreading him open, groaning at the wetness that met his fingers. "So ready," he whispered.

He undid Gabriel’s pants and removed them in a single swift motion, his touch practiced but careful, as if unwrapping something sacred. Gabriel didn’t look away, his breathing shallow, his lips parted. There was no shame in his gaze. Only fire.

Damian knelt between his legs, dragging his palms slowly up Gabriel’s thighs, savoring the feel of skin flushed and trembling beneath him. The scent of sex and pheromones was heady, wrapping around them like incense, primal and intoxicating.

Gabriel propped himself on his elbows, watching Damian through hooded eyes. "You look like you’re worshiping me," he murmured, his voice thick with arousal.

Damian glanced up, golden eyes darkened by hunger. "I am."

He lowered his mouth and kissed along Gabriel’s inner thigh, taking his time, leaving faint bruises and soft bites as he moved closer to the source of that irresistible heat. Gabriel gasped, fingers curling in the chaise cushions, hips twitching under the teasing touches.

When Damian finally slid his tongue over the hole and then inside, he did so with the patience of a man savoring his last meal. Gabriel’s breath hitched, then broke into a moan, his body arching into Damian’s mouth as pleasure surged through him.

"Damian," he gasped, a shiver racing down his spine. "You—fuck—you’re too good at that—"

Damian hummed against him in response, hands gripping Gabriel’s thighs tighter, keeping him open.

Gabriel’s head fell back, eyes fluttering shut. His body was trembling now, teetering on the edge of surrender. He hated giving anyone power—but Damian... Damian made surrender feel like a choice.

And that was more dangerous than anything.

"Don’t stop," he breathed, his voice raw and breaking, like something sacred was unraveling inside him. "Don’t you dare stop."

Damian didn’t stop.

He continued with deliberate, reverent strokes, his tongue circling and plunging, coaxing Gabriel’s body to open for him, inch by inch and tremble by tremble. The omega beneath him was no longer pleading; he was unraveling, so exquisitely that even the Emperor, who was so used to restraint, felt the edge of his own control slipping.

Gabriel whimpered, his voice high and broken, his fingers gripping the edge of the chaise hard enough to hurt. His scent filled the room, slick dripping down his thighs, and Damian could feel him pulsing, calling, and ready.

He pulled back only when Gabriel was shaking, lips swollen from biting down, moans he didn’t want to give too freely.

"You’re shaking," Damian whispered against the inside of his thigh.

Gabriel barely found his voice. "I said don’t stop."