Chapter 68

“Ugh… haa…”

The first climax was always extraordinarily long.

Kosha felt the thick length filling the passage beneath him, pulsing violently as it released its seed. Every muscle in Lucien’s body tightened, his weight bearing heavily against the partner receiving him.

Dazed, Kosha sensed the fragment of magical power returned through internal ejaculation slowly absorbing into his body.

Even after finishing, Lucien lingered inside the damp, clinging passage for some time before withdrawing with care. Whenever Kosha’s overstimulated body twitched, Lucien pressed gentle kisses along his spine.

Stretched by something so excessive, the opening could not close immediately. It remained loose and fluttering for a while, although nothing escaped from it.

Lucien turned Kosha onto his back and examined him carefully, checking for abrasions, bleeding, or other injuries.

Entirely accustomed to the routine by now, Kosha simply lay across the long dresser, struggling to catch his breath beneath the prince’s penetrating gaze.

Once satisfied that he was unharmed, Lucien gathered Kosha into his arms.

Kosha instinctively looped his arms around Lucien’s neck and draped himself across the broader frame, his thoughts clouded by exhaustion.

If this continues, I’m going to develop a terrible habit. My stamina has never been particularly good, but still, I’m a man. I’ve heard it’s shameful to be this useless in bed. I should be more assertive. I should take some initiative.

Yet what could he possibly do when there was not an ounce of strength left in his body?

Perhaps such advice came only from men who had never had anything monstrous forced into them from behind.

Having successfully justified his own idleness, Kosha sprawled across the long sofa as Lucien laid him down.

The lingering heat of their intimacy rested comfortably beneath his skin. Lucien’s hands swept over him with an unhurried, almost innocent gentleness, and even the soft fabric of the sofa clinging to his bare body felt blissful.

Then a damp sensation blossomed between his thighs.

Kosha’s fading consciousness was abruptly dragged back from the edge of sleep.

“…!”

He jolted and opened his eyes, staring downward.

Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, a shock of golden hair had already settled between his legs.

“Ah, Your Highness…!”

Lucien’s lips wandered without permission, teasing Kosha’s perineum and the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He avoided only the hypersensitive tip, still raw from Kosha’s climax, while pressing slow kisses and licks along the smooth pink length of his shaft.

With the prince’s head nestled so familiarly between his legs, Kosha could do nothing but whimper in helpless confusion.

It was not the first time Lucien had done this, but the growing frequency was becoming alarming.

“Your Highness, honestly, this is becoming a little too…”

Their gazes met.

Despite having his face buried between another man’s thighs, Lucien’s stare remained piercingly sharp.

Sensing danger, Kosha hurriedly corrected himself.

“Not Your Highness. Lucien.”

“Say what you were going to say.”

“Well, I…” Kosha swallowed. “I think this is rather lewd. What we’re doing, I mean. I thought so last time too.”

“Lewd?” Lucien’s brow furrowed as though he had suffered a grave injustice. “What are you talking about? I’m cleaning you.”

His reasoning was hopelessly contradictory.

That is exactly why it’s lewd, Kosha wanted to argue, but he swallowed the words before they escaped.

He drew a careful breath, determined to explain the fundamental problem.

“Just listen, Your Highness. I’m not entirely certain how we reached this point, but I have never heard of anyone breaking a curse through such… obscene means. Magic is supposed to be the antithesis of carnal desire, yet, ah… ugh!”

His sentence ended in a strangled cry.

Ignoring the protest, Lucien pushed one shameless finger into him. The opening remained relaxed, slick with oil and with the fluid still seeping from where Lucien had filled him.

With a calculated shift of his body, Lucien gripped Kosha’s thighs, spread them wide, and climbed over him.

“Let’s do it once more.”

Rule number three dictated that magical discharge occurred only once each night.

Once released, the mana withdrew and instinctively resisted returning to its origin, clinging to Lucien’s body as though it genuinely wished to remain there. The phenomenon was so unnatural that even Kosha, the rightful owner of the power, could not understand it.

He had once devoted an entire day to the exhausting task of trying to reclaim all of it, only to discover that his efforts were useless.

Therefore, anything they did from that moment onward had absolutely nothing to do with detoxification.

It was sex for its own sake, with no magical justification whatsoever.

“But…”

Kosha hesitated.

Lucien sat up, removed the remainder of his clothing, and wrapped one hand around his own phallus. He stroked himself in a slow, measured rhythm while staring directly down at Kosha, daring the mage to avert his eyes.

The ominous length stood fully exposed, glistening beneath a thick mixture of fluids.

Kosha experienced the same thought every time he saw him.

Lucien truly was beautiful from head to toe. It was not merely his face, but the elegant line of his neck and shoulders, the breadth of his chest, the narrow taper of his waist, and the perfect distribution of muscle all the way down to his calves.

Every part of him appeared impossibly refined.

Except for that particular place.

Because the rest of Lucien was so breathtaking, the sheer brutality of that one feature stood out all the more. Kosha’s heart nearly ached whenever he looked at it.

Did he use every scrap of beauty on the rest of his body, leaving that one part to become so terrifyingly enormous? Even the color is frightening.

“I’ll go slowly this time,” Lucien coaxed as he lowered himself over Kosha. “Gently. However you want it. All right?”

Lucien, misinterpreting Kosha’s silence, pressed their bodies together and continued making promises. This was his usual behavior when he wanted a second round. He detailed everything he planned to do, promised tenderness, and seduced Kosha with each whispered word. Admittedly, Lucien typically kept those promises. Once he gave his word, he honored it with almost solemn devotion.

Kosha sniffled, unable to help himself.

The weapon between Lucien’s legs was too large and, frankly, rather unattractive. Yet Kosha could no longer bring himself to truly hate it, not after learning how strangely and intensely pleasurable it could make him feel when Lucien handled him correctly.

He had been taught that a man should never allow himself to be ruled by carnal desire.

It had been a losing battle from the very beginning.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Kosha gave a slow nod.

A deeply satisfied smile spread across Lucien’s face. He leaned down and sealed the agreement with a firm kiss.

His large hands gripped Kosha’s soft thighs and spread them wide, opening him in invitation. The blunt tip aligned with his entrance and pressed inside as though returning to its rightful place.

A sharp, sweet ache pierced through Kosha, and he squeezed his eyes shut, dizzy beneath the overwhelming sensation.

When he opened them again, he was in the bathhouse.

It was Lucien’s private bath, attached directly to the inner chambers of his bedchamber. The room was simple and immaculate, decorated primarily with wood and stone, yet every object, from the bath salts to the furnishings, was an extraordinary luxury. The enormous bathtub, spacious enough for both men to immerse themselves completely, had been carved from a single block of marble.

Kosha had no idea when he had lost consciousness or how much time had passed.

He looked around slowly, his mind still clouded.

Lucien’s broad, solid chest rested flush against his back.

This was the third time they had shared the bath.

After their first night together, Lucien had learned that Kosha had been washing in the communal bath used by the servants. The prince had reacted as though something utterly inconceivable had occurred.

From Kosha’s perspective, there was nothing particularly shocking about it. Lucien had apparently assumed the servants would naturally carry separate bathwater to Kosha’s room.

How could they possibly do that?

To everyone outside these private chambers, Kosha was merely another servant.

Regardless, from that day onward, Lucien had personally overseen the entire bathing process.

“Are you awake?”

A languid voice drifted from behind him. It seemed the prince had also dozed briefly in the warm water.

“Should I add more hot water?”

A continuously heated system supplied water directly to the royal family’s private quarters, a privilege available nowhere else in the palace.

Kosha shook his head. The bath remained comfortably warm, and he already knew Lucien would be leaving soon.

As expected, Lucien lingered just long enough to play idly with Kosha’s hair before rising from the tub.

Resting his cheek against the marble rim, Kosha watched the prince rinse his magnificent body with lukewarm water. The sight of Lucien preparing to leave without allowing himself any meaningful rest brought Kosha’s persistent concerns back to the surface.

It felt excessive, as though all they ever did together was have sex.

Kosha understood that detoxification through intimacy was the most practical assistance he could receive in his present condition, but even so, it seemed like too much.

“Take your time relaxing your body, then sleep in my room.”

Kosha dried himself and struggled into his trousers while Lucien continued.

“I may not be able to return tonight, so don’t worry if I’m gone.”

Lucien worked himself to the bone, dragged from one obligation to another without even a moment’s sleep, while Kosha was…

Well, he was still a mage, at least in name.

During the first few days, his body had been completely unaccustomed to such intimate acts, leaving him exhausted and fragile. By now, however, he had adapted somewhat. A little rest was usually enough to restore him to the point where he could walk without too much difficulty.

Gathering his courage, Kosha finally spoke.

“Um, Your Highness.”

“Hmm?”

“Is there anything else I could help you with?” He hesitated. “Or perhaps… I’ve been thinking. I wondered whether I might visit that archive again.”

“What?”

Lucien was halfway through pulling on his shirt when his head snapped around. He stared at Kosha as though he had heard something utterly absurd.

“Where did you say you were going?”

“The mage archive. The one in the East Wing that we visited before.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

The sharp interruption instantly shattered the languid atmosphere that had lingered between them.

Lucien studied Kosha closely, searching his face for some hidden motive. Yet the mage, still damp and flushed from the bath, looked entirely innocent.

“Please, listen to me. Today, for some reason, you didn’t lose your reason at all. It’s confusing, and I don’t understand it. I know we’re doing this because it has an immediate effect, but I still don’t understand the principles behind any of it.”

“…”

“And it may be difficult for you, Your Highness, having to do this constantly…”

Lucien ignored the quiet addition altogether.

He shook his head as though Kosha’s suggestion were too ridiculous to warrant consideration.

Kosha felt strangely dejected. Even in the dim light, Lucien’s profile remained smooth and flawless.

It was true that, despite spending the past several days working without rest, Lucien looked remarkably healthy. It was almost as though his entire body existed to prove that a reasonable amount of indulgence was far better for one’s health than excessive abstinence.

Still, Kosha summoned his courage one final time.

“I am a mage, after all. I can conceal my presence much better now. It won’t be like last time.”

“Mage or not.”

The reply was utterly merciless.

Lucien tied the front of his shirt with a sharp, irritated motion, then strode toward Kosha, who remained seated in the tub.

“The only way you can help is by staying quietly where you are.”

One large hand closed firmly around Kosha’s cheek before releasing him.

“Answer me if you understand.”

“…Yes.”

The answer came a moment too late.

Because Kosha was rarely this docile, Lucien’s eyes narrowed with immediate suspicion. The mage’s lips had drawn into a pronounced pout, making his dissatisfaction unmistakable.

Why is this a problem? Lucien wondered. I only told him to eat and sleep.

Mages were known to loathe physical effort.

Had living among that insane flock of geese for so long somehow tainted him?

Lucien tapped the edge of the tub with his finger, letting his irritation show. Regardless of how impressive the reasons Kosha concocted were, a mage acting on his own was entirely unacceptable. A mage moving without permission would surely attract suspicion. Lucien did not want to suspect him. He held a position where duty required constant suspicion, which was exactly why he refused to create even the slightest chance for doubt to take hold.

Avoiding Lucien’s sharp gaze, Kosha slid deeper into the tub. He submerged the lower half of his face beneath the lukewarm water and blew bubbles, pretending not to notice the prince’s displeasure.

Lucien wanted to confront that silent protest, but he had no time left to spare.

“Really,” he said at last, “just stay here, keep quiet, and sleep.”

In the end, that final warning was all Lucien could leave behind as he pulled his cotehardie over his shirt.

However, if mages had been creatures humans could so easily command, they would never have faced such merciless persecution in the first place.

***