Chương 10

Chapter 10

The overwhelming physique exerted force by sheer proximity alone. Aeroc couldn't stand his ground and staggered backward. Instinctively, his arm shot out to seize the chair back behind him. Bendyke could not endure even the slightest distance and closed it again and again. His face was already buried in the half-exposed nape of Aeroc's neck. When the blade of his nose passed near the carotid artery, Aeroc felt threatened — the row of even teeth below seemed poised to tear through the vessel at any moment.

The man, who preferred to play the composed gentleman, did not rip buttons off like an animal. Instead, one hand unfastened each small button with deft fingers. His tongue was busy lapping at the hollow where ear met jaw, depriving him of sight — and yet he handled the fastenings as though he knew every inch of Aeroc's body. The waistcoat was already on the floor. The shirttails were drawn out with a suggestive rustle, like the trailing skirt of a ravished noblewoman. Through the parted fabric, the abdomen — rising and falling with ragged breaths — became visible. A large hand slid across and adhered. More than the branding-iron heat, the visual stimulus fanned the humiliation.

"Where's the man who tossed his clothes off with such confidence?"

"Shut…… up."

Lungs, startled by the unfamiliar sensations crashing over him like waves, heaved. He didn't want to give the man the satisfaction of a moan, so Aeroc bit his lower lip.

"Trembling like some blushing maiden who knows nothing — at this rate, dawn will come before I've worked a single finger into that lewd little opening of yours."

The obscenity struck the back of his skull like a massive hammer. The shock parted his lips of its own accord. And the debauched man smiled. Long fingers, spread like a net, cupped Aeroc's face as though it were a wine glass.

"Better."

Tongue arrived before lips. The living muscle, which had met his a few times now, roamed Aeroc's mouth with familiar ease — checking teeth and mucous membrane like an owner inspecting property, then latching stubbornly onto the tongue that wanted to be left alone. Bendyke's kiss was a faithful mirror of his temperament. Persistent and rough. The real problem was the devastating effect it had on Aeroc.

"Mm."

His blocked mouth redirected breath through the nasal passages, which hummed low. The hand gripping the chair back clenched tighter. Half-shut eyelids dulled his sight but sharpened touch. The wicked muscle touring his intimate membranes met his own tongue — and the sensation of them mingling was still alien. Alien, and at times unsettling, and simultaneously welcome.

Willing or not, Bendyke was the first person with whom Aeroc had shared contact this intensely private. Shameful though it was, the inexperience in sexual matters might be why he was so easily swayed. In any case, the kiss right now was not unpleasant. That made the man all the more loathsome. Every moment spent with him should have been revolting. His pride was being shaved away, painfully.

Between tongues pressing hard, saliva linked them, then broke. Bendyke allowed Aeroc a brief reprieve at the right moment. A few heated exhales escaped. The devil's lips curved into a smile. An unmistakable invitation.

"Ae——"

The man of blatantly inferior rank was about to use his name again with breathtaking insolence. That could not be permitted — so Aeroc sealed those lips first. Mimicking Bendyke's technique exactly, he traced the even teeth and swept the mucous membrane. Caught off guard, the other man flinched and tried to pull away. Aeroc reached out and cupped the back of his neck to keep him from escaping.

A low vibration rumbled from the vast chest cavity. Through half-veiled vision, the man's closed eyes were visible. Thick brows crushed inward as though in agony, and dense lashes trembled like butterfly wings. A reaction too delicate to believe could belong to Bendyke. Aeroc explored the sturdy neck — rivaling his own thigh — and lightly raised his index finger to find neatly trimmed hair. He'd expected it to be stiff as boxwood leaves; it was unexpectedly soft.

Smack.

Lips parted with an embarrassing sound. The dark eyes — dormant as old, fallen leaves settled through winter — had already stained with a dangerous hue. Two cedar-trunk arms held Aeroc's waist fast. Standing at a slant, weight on one leg, Aeroc returned the man's look of surprise with the same mocking smile he'd received.

"You have a talent for catching people off guard. Always unpredictable."

"I'll take it as a compliment. But should you really be standing there in awe? Will there be enough time to properly wield that stallion cock of yours before the night is over?"

He prided himself on being generous with most people, but not with this man. Every possible reprisal was delivered in full. Even if it provoked an unwanted outcome, he refused to concede an inch. The provocation seemed to shock; the man's face went blank. But an impudent grin surfaced almost immediately.

"If you're that worried, don't just stand there — help me undress."

"Ordering your employer about. Lazy and insolent."

And yet Aeroc extended his hands.

The sealed room filled with hot air quickly. The Violet Room was cozy and intimate compared to the estate's other reception rooms. But clad in nothing but a single loose shirt, the space felt staggeringly vast. Thick stone walls safeguarded every intimacy. Even so, Aeroc clamped his lower lip between his teeth, stubbornly barricading his throat.

"Bite down any harder and you'll draw blood."

The low voice at his ear was rough as sandpaper — scored by lust. He wanted to scoff at the hypocrisy of the man who'd raised bruises across his entire body, but the slightest lapse in tension might shatter him to pieces.

A thick droplet of sweat traced his neck, split his chest down the center. Bendyke lifted Aeroc slightly and sat him on the edge of the table, hips perched, back tilting away under the strong hand gripping his waist.

A solid arm seized one of Aeroc's thighs. Below the waist, Aeroc wore nothing; his exposed sex met the loosened front of the other man's trousers. The formidable member — its sheer grandeur boasted openly — thrust its head through the thick shadows. Only a portion was visible, yet its size produced despair. Unlike an omega's even-width shaft, an alpha's was markedly thicker at the base — the biological apparatus of the knotting mechanism, designed to guarantee conception. An omega in heat developed exceptional elasticity at the entrance, accommodating even a swollen alpha with ease. But individual variation existed, and some struggled.

Naturally, individual variation existed among alphas as well. Bendyke was exceptionally tall and broad even by alpha standards. His hands and feet were large. And the thing between his legs — of course — was proportional. But this size defied what Aeroc had anticipated. Bendyke's member exceeded the bounds of the ordinary by a considerable margin. He — an alpha — was supposed to take that monstrous thing? Death by organ rupture, was that the idea?

The other man's groin menaced him. Similar age, neat features, adequate physique. Social standing and wealth that far surpassed the other man's. Above all, character that was superior in every conceivable dimension. There was nothing in which Aeroc came up short.

In any normal relationship, the creeping sense of defeat would have had no reason to exist. And precisely because of that, Aeroc refused to signal arousal. When the vile beast — kneaded from sticky darkness and obscene desire — brazenly nudged the organ whose color and form were, by comparison, refined and immaculate, the urge to slap the man's face surged. Instead, Aeroc clawed at Bendyke's shoulder. Unlike Aeroc's own skin, which bore vivid red handprints from the lightest kneading, the man's hide — tanned and tanned again like leather worked by a master — refused to show so much as a scratch.

"Your thighs are still so sensitive."

He spoke as though he already knew, as always. Still so sensitive — when had he ever touched them before? Too absurd to challenge, Aeroc ignored it. The claw-like hand kneaded the inner thighs, then pushed without hesitation into more hidden territory.

Below the two columns crossing like drawn swords lay the sac that only males possessed. Aeroc had never properly touched his own. Even during baths, he scrubbed it through a thin gauze. Direct contact was too embarrassing, too shameful. Bendyke was the first to lay hands there.

"Hh."

The moment his most vulnerable point was seized, Aeroc's thighs clamped shut by instinct. But Bendyke's waist between them prevented it. He tried to retreat across the table, but with his sex held captive, he couldn't wrench free with any force. His head dropped between the arms draped over the man's shoulders. The frank contact sent his already rigid member surging to full, jutting hardness. Through the dark curls at the base, the thick male wrist extending below made his eyes go wide.

"Ah."

The most obscene sight of his life. The shock of depravity beyond imagination was considerable. His lips parted of their own accord. As the wrist stirred through the coarse hair, the existence of the sac — rarely noticed in daily life — became vividly real.

"Hnnh."

Mental shock and physical stimulus were separate matters. Following the man's practiced movements, nasal sounds escaped on their own. Heat flared across his face anew. He released his bitten lip, then bit down again. He had no idea what to do in this situation. He had never been taught any of this. Aeroc simply scratched at the boulder-like shoulder. Confident fingertips teased the sac, then scraped boldly across the slick perineum. Before his brain could form a thought, the body overwhelmed by the teasing moved first. The knees that had been clenching shut flew open — exactly like mimosa leaves.

"Ss…… stop."

He begged without meaning to. Both legs clamped around the thick arm, straining to still it. Bendyke pressed in close. His tongue traced the tender skin behind Aeroc's ear.

"Relax. I won't hurt you."

With his free hand, he outlined the contour of Aeroc's flank. The touch projected an illusion of harmlessness — that gentle. The warm palm slowly thawed his tension-frozen body. His lungs trembled. The breath he released shuddered.

"But…… this is…… my first time. And…… too…… ah!"

Aeroc couldn't finish the sentence. The hand that had been gently kneading the sac pressed firmly against the perineum. A sensation — cold and hot and electric all at once — shot from his toes to the crown of his skull.

"More responsive than I expected."

The man smiled. And probed still more intimate territory. The instant unfamiliar fingers met the folds around the entrance, Aeroc cried out involuntarily.

"Ah!"

His fully erect member, sprung to attention in an instant, tapped against his own belly. The sensation was like having his insides touched alive — skin-crawling. What terrified Aeroc even more was the monstrous blaze spreading from within his body.

"Ah…… ss…… stop…… please……"

The trailing words vanished into a choked sob. Bendyke pulled him close in a fierce embrace. Two sweat-slicked bodies sealed together. Aeroc drove his nails into the hollow beneath the thick shoulder blade, clinging as though dangling from a cliff edge. His trembling chin settled over the massive shoulder. Violet blossoms colonized his blurred vision.

"Scared?"

The answering voice was astonishingly tender. He very nearly nodded.

"We can stop here if you want."

Delivering the unexpected offer, Bendyke slowly stroked Aeroc's rigid back. The unexpected kindness — after the sac — only further aggravated nerves already raw with physiological arousal.

"You…… mean it?"

He believed the words with naive trust. And the devil in human form smiled with infinite gentleness and said:

"We can't go all the way in one go anyway. Without patient conditioning, this innocent body of yours would be ruined."

Bendyke kissed Aeroc's forehead like someone cradling a loved one — as though soothing an innocent child throwing a tantrum for something beyond their understanding.

"With this little experience, you're shaking from manual play alone — so don't provoke me too much. There are limits to my restraint. I won't accept the same terrible failure as last time…… please."

How long — how far — did the man intend to toy with him, that he would even mimic the tender lover and use it for mockery? The anger at his own foolishness for nearly leaning into the counterfeit kindness scorched him. The fury froze the heat prickling behind his eyes in an instant. The same terrible failure as last time — what did that even mean? It sounded as though the man had hurt someone with that appallingly large member before.

In that moment, Aeroc realized Bendyke had had many partners. Obvious, in retrospect. A man who indulged his deviant urges with anyone — alpha, omega, male, female, indiscriminate — and whose appetites had finally led him to reach for Aeroc. Nothing to be surprised by. And yet the anger would not recede. A denunciation directed at an unnameable realm filled his eyes as he glared at the filthy wretch. Bendyke snorted.

"Were you expecting rape? Sorry to disappoint."

Nausea surged.

"Move."

Aeroc shoved the vile hypocrite away. He lowered his legs from the table and planted his feet on the floor. The body that had been drained by sustained sexual tension and forcibly induced arousal buckled under the sudden drop in temperature.

"Careful."

A solid arm steadied him. But the rescue cost him his human dignity.

"Let go."

The open hostility forced the arm back. The momentum nearly sent Aeroc sprawling across the table. Rather than flail, he mustered every ounce of mental fortitude accumulated over a lifetime and drew himself upright. He was half-naked in nothing but a shirt — but it didn't matter. No matter how shameful his appearance, he was nobler than that despicable devil.

"Can you walk?"

"Don't touch me."

The icy command halted the reaching hand. Aeroc gathered his shaking body and picked up the trousers from the floor. He steeled his jaw and tried not to say another word — but in the end, the profanity escaped.

"Worthless piece-of-shit bastard. Go to hell."

The coarsest words he had spoken in his entire life. This time, the role of the astonished party fell to Bendyke. While the man hesitated in bewilderment, Aeroc snatched up his clothes and fled to the adjoining bathroom.

The door shut, and angry tears fell in fat drops. He scrubbed his cheeks with trembling hands.

"Damn it."

Shedding tears over a wretch this base. Wretched and infuriating. He turned the faucet and washed his face with cold water, then soaked a towel and roughly wiped down his sweat-streaked body. His fingertips trembled the entire time he wrestled the crumpled clothes on. Buttons kept slipping.

"Damn buttons."

The cursing wouldn't stop. Aeroc repeated deep breaths, fighting to reclaim composure. The abrupt cooling after the peak of arousal set his skull pounding like a war drum. His vision tilted. He was barefoot — no shoes — but at least the shirt and trousers were properly on. Aeroc raked his disheveled hair back with his fingers a few times, then repeated the deep breathing. The flush in his face subsided somewhat; his eyes dried quickly.

He checked the bathroom mirror. Lips slightly swollen, the skin around his eyes a faint pink — but overall, he looked collected. With the right clothes, he could pass for someone who'd just emerged from a deeply moving performance. That the concepts of deeply moving and humiliating had collapsed to the same level was a bitter irony. A thin smirk caught on his lips. The reflection looked entirely unruffled. His father's rigorous training had never been more appreciated. Time to evict the unwelcome guest. He held his head high and walked out of the bathroom.

While Aeroc had been composing himself, Bendyke appeared to have cooled down as well. He had pulled on his shirt and straightened his trousers. Turned away, he was rummaging through his jacket pockets — unaware that Aeroc had emerged. He turned out the outer pocket, then searched the inner one; his fingertips shook like a patient with an incurable disease. At last, having found what he sought, he took something and went to the table.

Trickle.

He poured cold tea into a cup, then opened the lid of the object in his hand. It appeared to be a medicine bottle. He tipped the contents into his mouth and drained the poured water in one gulp. Then, bracing both hands against the table, he repeated deep breaths. After a moment, he raised one hand and gauged whether the trembling had stopped. He clenched and unclenched his fist several times. His complexion was white as blank paper.

"What kind of medicine is that?"

When Aeroc spoke, Bendyke started visibly. Discovering Aeroc, he slipped the hand holding the bottle into his trouser pocket. The pretense of nonchalance only deepened the suspicion.

"Are you all right now?"

"I asked what you just took."

"Headache pills."

Having recovered his insolent bearing, the man twisted his lip upward — an attempt at a sneer, it seemed. But a faint sheen of cold sweat glistened on his forehead, and the facial muscles he'd forced into position twitched minutely. No trace of anger remained. What flickered there instead was pain.

"Why? Now that we've been intimate, you're suddenly curious about my personal life?"

"Always treating me like a child. But whatever it is, it's clearly not something good."

"Hm."

When Aeroc showed skepticism, Bendyke shrugged.

"Well. That mad-dream talk and all the bizarre behavior — given the pattern, I suppose you're on some opium tincture that's eating away at your mind."

He didn't actually believe this outstanding financial manager was an opium addict. It was simply that no other sinister substance befitting a base devil came to mind. Cases of long-term opium tincture use for pain relief leading to addiction and ruin circulated in whispers. But no one in Aeroc's social circle used the stuff. At least not yet. The remark hit something — Bendyke chuckled low.

"Not opium tincture, but something similar, I suppose."

He drew the bottle from his pocket, pinched it between index finger and thumb, and waved it for show. Before Aeroc could examine it closely, it vanished back into the pocket. Holding a proper conversation with this petty man was impossible.

"An excellent sedative, you see. Ordinary painkillers don't work for me lately."

"If you need something that potent, quit working immediately and convalesce."

This was categorically not concern for Kloff Bendyke. He would have said the same if a sworn enemy of his late father were ill. The physiological revulsion toward drugs furrowed his brow. Bendyke acted as though it were nothing.

"I can't. Not yet."

He approached and lightly tilted Aeroc's chin upward. Aeroc batted the impudent hand away like swatting a fly. The madman paid no mind.

"A certain count has been giving me no end of trouble lately. Without the medicine, I simply can't cope."

"Whether it's painkillers or narcotics, it's none of my concern. But if your work suffers, you're dismissed immediately."

"Rest assured."

With a decorous bow, the man took Aeroc's hand and kissed the palm — the secret, romantic method of conveying an affection that could not be shown. Even that, when performed by Kloff Bendyke, degraded into vulgar mockery. Aeroc recoiled with a shudder and wrenched his hand free.

Despite the open display of revulsion, the man looked pleased. As though he welcomed the disgust. Perhaps the poison he drank had addled his brain. Pervert.

"Until next time, my dear master."

He wanted to strike that grinning face. Violence was out of the question — it would mean self-inflicted damage to the dignity of a man of intellect — and besides, he hadn't the slightest chance of overpowering this lunatic by force. I should have taken up boxing. The regret came late. He resolved, at the very least, to cut back on violin lessons and start fencing instruction. Having witnessed the man consume an unidentified substance, self-defense measures were in order. On top of which, the man was in possession of an appallingly vicious weapon between his legs.