Chapter 189: Good Boy

*Runze’s POV*

*Baby.*

I replay it immediately, involuntarily, my brain snagging on the word and refusing to let go.

Baby. He said baby. Bael, who calls me Runze in that specific tone that already destroys me, who doesn’t do endearments, who has never in any version of himself that I’ve known reached for a pet name—

He said *baby.*

The exhaustion completely evaporates.

He sees it happen. The tiny corner of his mouth moves... not quite a smile, something more like pure satisfaction, and before I’ve fully finished processing what just happened, he’s already moving.

He gently helps me sit up against the headboard, adjusting the pillows behind my back, making sure I’m supported and comfortable and not straining anywhere.

Then he stands by the side of the bed and takes out his hard cock. It looks ready, thick and flushed.

My throat goes completely dry.

I watch him, my heart is beating fast with excitement and a little nervousness, and when he steps forward, I wet my dry lips. His eyes track the movement immediately, and his jaw tightens once.

I look up at him.

He’s looking down at me with that expression... controlled, focused, dark... and I decide, in whatever percentage of my brain is still functional, that I want to crack it. He’s been in total control of this entire evening.

I lean forward, swirling my tongue around the sensitive tip in slow, lazy circles. I take my time, tasting the salty drop at the slit, letting my warm breath touch him, and I keep my eyes locked on his face the whole time.

His expression doesn’t change, but I catch the tiny twitch at the corner of his eye and the way his fingers curl at his sides.

I do it again, swirling slowly, holding his gaze.

Then he realizes what I am doing.

His grey eyes narrow. Without warning, his hand slides into my hair, gripping tight. He pushes his hips forward and slides deeper into my mouth in one smooth thrust.

The sudden fullness makes my eyes water instantly. Tears gather at the corners and spill over.

Bael pulls back just enough to look down at me. A smug little smirk lifts the corner of his mouth—unhurried, unbothered, completely in control.

The satisfied look on his face burns my cheeks. Heat rushes up my neck, but the sight of his composure makes my own cock twitch hard against my thigh.

I glare at him through wet eyes, refusing to let him win so easily.

I wrap my fingers firmly around the thick base of his cock. While still looking up at him through blurry, teary eyes, I swirl my tongue around him again, tighter and wetter this time. I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks.

Bael hisses sharply between his teeth. The sound is low and raw. It sends a rush of warmth through my stomach.

I did that. I made him make that sound.

I hum softly around him, keeping my eyes locked on his.

But the hiss seems to push him over some edge. His hips jerk forward on their own, driving deeper into my mouth. More tears roll down my cheeks.

This time he does not stop. He starts thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm, pushing just deep enough to make my eyes sting but never hurting me.

His other hand moves gently, stroking my hair, then he slides his fingers down to the back of my neck and over my ear. The soft touches mix with the steady push of his cock, making my head feel fuzzy and warm. My skin tingles wherever his fingers pass.

I understand now, I have lost the game.

He is not going to let me tease him anymore. So I stop fighting. I relax my jaw and follow his rhythm completely. My hand strokes in time with my mouth, my tongue presses and swirls along the underside with every thrust.

I suck him with everything I have, wet and tight and eager. I no longer look up to check his face. I just pour all my hunger and love into pleasing him.

Bael’s breathing grows louder and rougher. His fingers keep caressing my hair and ear, his thrusts stay careful but become a little faster. I feel his thighs tense under my free hand. His cock throbs against my tongue.

I watch him from below my wet lashes, feeling that pure, unreasonable satisfaction of watching this man fall apart right in front of me.

His breath catches completely in his throat, and his whole body shudders. His hand fists tightly in my hair.

"Runze—" The word is rough, desperate, barely sound at all.

He pulls back at the very last second.

Hot, thick cum splatters across my face and chest in strong, heavy pulses, spilling over my cheeks, lip, and chin.

I sit there panting, chest rising and falling fast, catching my breath.

My own cock is painfully hard again, leaking steadily onto my thigh. The taste of him is still on my tongue, my face warm and sticky, and even with tears drying on my skin, a deep, quiet satisfaction settles inside me.

Then I lift one index finger, wipe a trace off the corner of my lip, and bring it back to my mouth, licking it clean while looking straight into his eyes.

"Done so soon, Mr. Alpha?" I croak out, my voice raspy and teasing.

The warmth in his expression vanishes instantly.

Not gone, replaced.

Something cold and very deliberate slides in behind it, and I recognize it with a sharp jolt that goes straight down my spine.

That cold, dark look from our very first night comes back.

His hand shoots out and wraps firmly around my throat. He does not squeeze, but the hold is strong and clear.

A warning.

He leans down until his face is only inches from mine, his dark grey eyes stripped of every trace of warmth.

"Don’t provoke me," he says quietly. "You know fully well you’re the one who can’t handle it."

My pulse hammers wildly against his palm.

"I... yes... I’m sorry—" The words come out small and breathless.

He doesn’t remove his hand. His dark eyes stay on mine, steady and intense, and the embarrassing thing... the really weird part... is what my body is doing right now.

Even with the flash of fear, I can feel my cock throbbing harder between my legs. My body reacts to his voice and that look with strong want.

"I... Nngh..." I say softly, my voice barely audible. "I’ll be... a good boy..."

Something shifts in his face. The cold intensity softens at the edges — doesn’t leave, just changes underneath, becoming warmer, something that’s almost fond in a way that shouldn’t work alongside the expression he’s currently wearing, but somehow does.

His thumb moves once, stroking gently against my pulse point.

"Will you?" he asks quietly.

His hand drops from my throat.

He leans in, his mouth finding my ear, and I feel his breath first, warm and slow, and then his tongue traces the shell of it.

My entire body shudders violently.

A weak, surprised moan comes out of me. I did not know getting my ears licked could feel this good.

He does it again, licking and nipping softly, and I make a sound that I’m taking to my grave.

My hands fly to his shoulders, gripping hard, my whole body vibrating with something I don’t have a name for.

Every single nerve ending in my ear is apparently directly connected to every other nerve ending I have, and Bael has just discovered this. The look on his face when he pulls back slightly to check my reaction tells me he is going to use this information forever.

His teeth graze my earlobe gently.

"..Ahhn... Bael—" Whatever else I was going to say is gone completely. Just his name, just that, over and over.

He sucks softly on the skin there, and I stop being able to form anything resembling language.

My whole body is trembling by the time he finally pulls back. He looks at my face, at the complete wreckage of my composure, at the tears that have dried on my cheeks and something in his expression is warm and slightly devastating and entirely his.

He lays me flat back against the pillows, carefully, making sure I’m supported. His hands check automatically, back supported, stomach free, nothing strained. Then he moves between my legs again.

His tongue presses flat against my hole first, licking broad and slow, tasting everything that is messy and sensitive from before. Then the tip pushes inside me again, sliding deep in one smooth stroke. The wet heat of it makes my back arch off the pillows.

A broken moan falls from my mouth, loud and raw.

I don’t have the energy to be embarrassed about the sounds I make anymore. All I can do is feel the slick push of his tongue fucking into me, the way it curls and rubs against my inner walls, the steady rhythm that seems to reach every sensitive spot inside.

He eats me out like he has all the time in the world and nothing else matters.

His tongue thrusts in and out, sometimes fast, sometimes deep and slow, wet sounds filling the quiet room with every stroke. My cock twitches against my rounded belly with every push of his tongue, leaking onto my warm skin.

Pleasure builds fast, starting low in my stomach before crashing over me in long, heavy waves.

My hole clenches tight around his tongue. My cock spills over my belly in weak, messy spurts without anyone touching it, my thighs shaking against his shoulders.

Helpless, raspy sounds tear from my throat until every muscle in my body goes completely soft and loose.

There’s nothing left in me, no thoughts, no fight. Just warmth and heavy breathing.

I feel his tongue give one last slow lick before he pulls back.

He doesn’t just leave me there. He grabs a soft towel from the bedside table, wiping down my thighs and belly with slow, gentle strokes. The warm cloth feels amazing against my hot skin, making me let out a soft sigh.

I feel, distantly, his hands smoothing the nightdress back down over my legs.

I feel his weight settle beside me on the mattress.

His arm comes around me, careful and warm, drawing me in close.

And then there is nothing at all, just the soft dark of the deepest sleep I’ve had in months, and the last conscious thing I register is the specific warmth of his chest against me, steady and certain, exactly where I knew it would be.