CHAPTER 113: THE NIGHT BEGINS

[Rynthall Estate—Night]

"Come along, my little darling," Theoran said proudly, scooping Elysia into his arms. "Grandpa will tell you an amazing story—full of dragons, knights, and—"

Elysia blinked at him, deadpan. "Grandpa... your stories suuuck."

Theoran froze mid-step, clutching his chest as if stabbed. "S-SUCK?! What foul sorcery is this? Where did you even learn such a cursed word?"

Elysia tilted her head innocently, then grinned. "Aunt Seraphina."

Theoran’s jaw dropped. "That wicked woman! Corrupting my precious little star—!"

Behind them, Silas pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, "Seraphina is ruining my daughter’s innocence one word at a time..." He exhaled deeply as Theoran carried Elysia down the hallway, the child already demanding, "Fine! But if your story is boring, I’ll fall asleep on purpose!"

Silas shook his head, watching the pair disappear. "And Father still thinks I’m the problem."

He turned on his heel, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading across his lips as he strode toward his chamber. His voice dropped to a low purr, half to himself, half to the empty air.

"I should have a little talk with Lucien about Seraphina’s lessons..." His smirk widened, wicked and unrepentant. "But first—" his eyes gleamed with mischief, "I have a promise to keep. A very, very important promise to my darling daughter."

He chuckled under his breath, dark and amused. "Time to make her dream of being an elder sister... a reality."

***

[Rynthall Estate—Silas and Lucein’s Chamber—Later]

As Silas entered his chamber, his steps faltered.

Lucien stood by the window, slipping into a light robe, moonlight brushing against his pale skin. The fabric slid over his shoulders, revealing the soft line of his collarbone.

Silas’s throat tightened. He swallowed hard.

"Oh—where is Elysia?" Lucien asked casually, tying the sash with delicate fingers.

Silas’s gaze lingered too long. He stepped forward slowly, his voice low, almost husky."She wanted to sleep with Father tonight."

Lucien turned, eyes widening in surprise. "Really? That’s... a miracle. She never leaves my side."

Silas closed the distance between them in steady, unhurried steps until the warmth of Lucien’s presence filled his senses. He held Lucien’s hand and kissed the palm of it, whispering, "Isn’t that good for us, my love?" His fingers brushed Lucien’s hand, soft, cool, and trembling slightly.

Lucien’s lips parted slightly, as if to protest, but no words came.

Silas slipped his arms around him, pulling Lucien close until their bodies pressed together. He dipped his head, murmuring against his lips, "We finally have time for each other."

Before Lucien could answer, Silas’s tongue traced along his lower lip, coaxing gently, insistently.

Lucien twitched at the sudden intimacy, his cheeks flooding with color. "W—wait... Silas... Is this your doing? Did you... convince Elysia to leave me tonight?"

Silas ignored the question, his mouth trailing to the corner of Lucien’s lips, tasting, savoring.

Lucien’s breath hitched. His eyes softened with reluctant amusement. "Gods, look at you... You’re shameless."

Silas pressed his forehead against his, their noses brushing. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, heavy with longing.

"I only wanted... to spend time with my husband. Tell me—" his lips hovered inches from Lucien’s, "is that wrong?"

Lucien’s heart pounded against Silas’s chest. He sighed, his blush betraying him. "No... it’s not wrong. I’m just wondering how in the world you convinced her..."

For the first time, Silas faltered. He flinched slightly at the question but quickly masked it with a crooked smile. Instead of answering, he pressed soft kisses along Lucien’s cheek, trailing dangerously close to his ear.

"Don’t ruin this moment, my love," he murmured between kisses. "It’s been so long since I’ve touched you... My hands—" his grip tightened at Lucien’s waist, "they’re trembling for you."

Lucien shivered, caught between laughter and surrender. "You’re impossible..."

Silas’s lips brushed against his ear as he breathed, "Then let me prove how impossible I can be... tonight."

Lucein pushed at his chest—lightly, not with real force. His lashes trembled, his face already warm."No."

Silas froze, blinking, genuinely caught off guard. "...No?"

Lucein nodded, biting his lip as if to ground himself. "Yes. I have to... take a bath."

For a long heartbeat, the silence stretched. Then Silas’s mouth curved in that dangerous, wolfish smirk. He slid his hands boldly around Lucien’s waist, pulling him back against his chest as if no refusal existed between them. His tongue flicked across Lucien’s palm before trailing to his wrist, leaving fire in its wake.

"Then we’ll bathe... together," he whispered, voice low and sinful, "because I don’t trust you to stay out of reach, my love."

Lucein’s eyes widened, his throat working as he tried to swallow his own heartbeat. "Silas—"

But his husband leaned in closer, his lips ghosting against the corner of Lucien’s mouth, then sliding down to taste the curve of his jaw. His words rumbled like velvet sin against his skin.

"I’m starving for you, Lucein... starving. You can’t imagine how hard it’s been to control myself after coming from war—sleeping beside you every night, knowing you’re mine, but having to wait..."

Lucein shivered, his hands pressing weakly against Silas’s chest, as if unsure whether to push him away or cling tighter. His voice was barely a whisper.

"Then... let’s wash up... together."

Silas chuckled low, his lips grazing the tip of Lucien’s ear as he growled, "Good. Because tonight, husband, I’m not letting you escape this hunger."

***

[Bathroom—Later]

Steam curled in the air, wrapping the marble-walled bathroom in a heavy haze. Lucein’s robe had already been discarded carelessly to the far side of the room, leaving his pale body naked, trembling under the heat of Silas’s presence.

Silas’s own robe hung loose, sliding halfway down his broad shoulders, exposing strong planes of muscle glistening faintly in the mist.

Pinned firmly against the cool wall, Lucein let out a strangled moan, "Hngh—ahh... ha—!" as Silas’s mouth claimed the sensitive curve of his neck. His lips dragged, kissed, then nipped, leaving trails of pheromones that made Lucein arch into him.

Silas’s large hand had already wrapped around him, fingers spreading, squeezing his cock with maddening slowness before stroking harder. Lucein’s knees buckled, his head falling weakly against

Silas’s shoulder, breath coming in broken gasps.

"Ahhh—hngh... Silas—I think... I’m—"

Silas’s other arm caught him easily, holding him upright, pressing his body deeper against the wall as if caging him completely. His lips brushed Lucien’s ear, his voice a rough growl of hunger.

"Not yet, my love. Don’t you dare... we’ve only just begun."

He tightened his grip around his cock, thumb brushing over the sensitive tip, drawing a whimper from Lucien’s lips.

"S-Silas... nghhh—ahhh...!"

Silas trailed open-mouthed kisses lower, down the slope of his throat, before his teeth grazed Lucien’s adam’s apple. He bit—just lightly, enough to make Lucein gasp—before soothing the sting with his tongue. His voice rumbled darkly against Lucein’s pulse.

"You have no idea what you do to me. I feel like devouring you—every inch of you, until you can’t even stand."

His strokes grew faster and rougher, his hand pumping along Lucien’s length with sinful precision. The sounds of wet skin, their labored breaths, and the soft splash of sweat-damp air filled the bathroom.

"Ha—haa—! S-Silas... slower—I-I can’t—ahhh, I’m coming—!"

But Silas only smirked against his throat, speeding up, his deep voice laced with hunger and possession.

"Come for me, Lucein. Show me how much you belong to me. Let me taste the sound of you falling apart."

The pressure built until Lucein’s body trembled violently, his nails raking down Silas’s broad shoulders.

"Ahhh—! Hnghh—! I... I can’t—Silas, I—ahhh, I’m—!"

Every word broke into a cry as Silas’s grip tightened, his thumb pressing hard, stroking him with delicious cruelty.

"Come now," Silas coaxed, his voice a rumble of command and desire. "Come for me. Let me hear your sweetest sounds..."

"Ahhh! Haaahhh! Hnnghhh—ahhh! I-I... I can’t—ahhh, I’m... c-coming—!"

Silas’s palm pressed harder, coaxing, forcing every last drop of control out of him. Lucein cried out, his body arching helplessly before release tore through him in hot, pulsing waves.

SPLURT—!!

"Ahhhh—haaahhh—!" His voice broke into a high-pitched cry, his whole frame trembling as he collapsed against Silas’s broad chest, panting, lips parted and still quivering from the aftershocks.

Silas held him there, stroking his damp hair with a gentleness that contrasted the hunger still burning in his eyes. He tilted Lucein’s chin up, his thumb brushing across those trembling lips before whispering with a low, dangerous softness:

"Would you," he murmured against those swollen lips, his voice slow and sinful, "...like to take me in your mouth, my love?"

Lucein blinked up at him, cheeks burning crimson, breath still ragged. His lips quivered before he finally gave the smallest nod, his voice breaking with heat and submission.

"...Yes."

Silas’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting like molten fire as he leaned down to press a searing kiss against his husband’s lips.

"Good boy..." he murmured, voice dripping with sin.

And with that, the night was far from over.