Chapter 224: Lucky

*Runze’s POV*

He doesn’t give me time to breathe.

The second his lips cover mine again, Bael pulls back half an inch and drives into me. Hard. Deep. His hips snap forward and I feel every inch of him push in until there is nowhere left to go. The air locks in my chest.

The angle is deep, hitting somewhere inside me that makes my toes curl against the sheets instantly. I reach back instinctively, my fingers catching his forearm where it locks across my hip, not pushing him away, just holding on to something solid while the rest of me comes apart.

"B-Bael—" I choke out against his cheek. My fingers twist hard into his skin.

He doesn’t answer. He pulls his hips back slowly, almost all the way out, then drives forward again in one heavy stroke that forces a broken sound out of my throat.

Then again. And again.

Each thrust is full. I feel him stretch me open on every push, the wet heat of it loud in the quiet room. He pulls back until only the head of him stays inside, pauses for half a second, then sinks all the way in with a force that rocks me forward on the mattress.

My cock is trapped between my stomach and the sheets, hard and leaking. Every deep thrust rubs it just enough to make my hips twitch.

The stillness in him hits me even through the haze. He hasn’t said a single word. No low commands, no soft murmurs against my skin. Only the rough, broken rhythm of his breathing against my neck and the heavy drive of his body into mine.

I tilt my head, straining to see his face in the dim light. His eyes are open. Fixed on me.

That dark, completely focused look makes my heart stutter. He isn’t somewhere else in his head. He’s entirely here, watching me fall apart.

Something about that silence feels more intense than anything he could have said.

I face forward again, pressing my cheek into the pillow. My fingers tighten around his forearm as he picks up the pace. Each push drives the air out of my lungs in short, broken sounds I can’t control.

He fucks into me harder now, hips snapping forward with more force. The wet sound of it grows louder. I can feel every ridge of him sliding in and out. My body takes it and opens for more, slick and trembling.

Even now, I notice the subconscious boundary he keeps. His arm stays locked around my hips, carefully avoiding my waist and stomach altogether. He drives into me from behind with terrifying force, yet he never presses his full weight flat against my back or squeezes my midsection.

The way he shifts his angle the second I tense, reading my breathing automatically. Protecting the baby without missing a single beat.

He’s lost his mind, yet his body refuses to forget us for even a second.

Whatever fear was lingering in my chest dissolves instantly into pure relief.

He is still here. He is still Bael. And that realization undoes me completely.

His thrusts get deeper. Rougher. He pulls almost all the way out and slams back in, over and over, the force of it making my thighs shake. My cock leaks steadily onto the sheets.

The pressure inside me builds fast, tight and overwhelming. Tears run down my temples into the pillow. Not from pain. From how full it feels, from how little control I have left.

Then the pressure at the base of him swells.

I feel it coming a second before it happens, that familiar building stretch. I grip his forearm tight.

Bael drives forward hard, sealing us together. The knot expands quickly, thick and firm, locking him deep inside me. The sudden stretch pushes me over the edge.

Everything goes white and ringing and overwhelming all at once. My body shakes through the climax in long, helpless waves. My voice cracks open against the pillow as I come hard, clenching and pulsing around him.

Against my back, I feel him shudder. A low rough sound finally breaks from his throat as he spills into me, the only sound he’s made this entire time. His hips give a few small, involuntary rocks while the knot holds us locked together.

Then stillness.

The room goes completely quiet except for our breathing.

We lie there as the quiet settles around us, locked together while the knot between us slowly deflates, leaving a deep, heavy warmth in its place.

Bael’s arms are wrapped completely around me, one hand spread flat over my stomach while the other holds me firmly against his chest. His face remains buried in the crook of my neck, warm and immovable.

Neither of us speaks.

My breathing slowly finds its rhythm again, smoothing out against the quiet of the morning.

His doesn’t.

His chest continues to rise and fall too fast against my back, a subtle, erratic tremor in his ribs. Every few seconds, his fingers pull tight around me before slowly releasing, over and over, like an instinct he can’t quite turn off.

That’s when the reality of it settles in my chest.

He isn’t just catching his breath from earlier. He’s shaken... shaken in a way that has nothing to do with the physical exertion and everything to do with whatever dark thoughts are running through his head.

I tilt my head back as far as the position allows, straining to see him.

"Bael."

His chest stops rising against my back. The quiet lull breaks instantly, his muscles tensing as if he’s bracing himself for something harsh.

"What was that?"

A long pause follows. The real kind, where he searches for something honest in the dark. His thumb moves across my side slowly, tracing a small arc against my skin.

"I don’t know," he says, his voice scraped bare. "I woke up, looked at you sleeping... and I felt like I was dreaming."

A small, uneven breath leaves him, scalding against my nape.

"I... I just wanted you," he rasps, his grip tightening around my body as if convincing himself I’m real. "I wanted you so badly I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t want to do anything else. I didn’t want to be careful. I just... wanted to hold you until there was no space left between us."

A beat of quiet passes, heavy and weighted with everything he usually keeps hidden.

"I think I’m scared, Runze," he confesses softly, the words barely more than a murmur against my skin. "Every time I look at what we have now... you here, carrying our child, this life... I feel like a thief waiting to be caught. But my first instinct is still to control, to dictate, to be the same overbearing man I’ve always been... I’m terrified that one day I’ll make a mistake you can’t forgive, and I’ll wake up to an empty bed."

His fear hits me straight in the chest—a sharp, aching tightness that squeezes the air right out of my lungs. He thinks he doesn’t deserve this. He thinks he’s living on borrowed time.

I reach up, sliding my fingers over his forearm where his arm holds me firmly against his chest, squeezing the solid muscle beneath his skin.

"...I’m not going anywhere, Bael."

His breath hitches against my neck.

"You’re going to make mistakes," I say softly, letting the words settle between us without any harshness. "I know you haven’t magically become a completely different man overnight. I know that old instinct is still there. But I see you trying every single day to do better, and as long as you’re trying, I am staying right here."

His grip on me tightens until it borders on painful, his whole frame exhaling a shaky tremor.

Then, right as the silence settles into something soft and easy, a loud, embarrassing rumble echoes straight from my stomach.

Bael goes dead still.

A second passes. Then another.

A quiet, breathless sound comes out of him, a genuine laugh, warm and surprised, vibrating straight from his chest into my back.

My face burns red instantly. "I haven’t eaten since six last night," I mutter, biting my lip.

Bael doesn’t tease me. Instead, he shifts closer, burying his face deep into the crook of my neck, his lips pressing a long, warm kiss against my skin.

"I’m so lucky," he whispers, his voice low, thick, and stripped of every defense. "I’m so lucky to have you, Runze."

I close my eyes, tangling my fingers through his messy hair.

I’m so lucky to have you, Runze.

The words settle into my chest slowly, sinking in like warmth.

He thinks he’s the lucky one. This man who could have anyone, who has never needed anyone, who spent years building walls so high even I couldn’t see over them — he thinks waking up next to me is something he doesn’t deserve.

If only he knew.

I press back into him, feeling the solid thrum of his heartbeat against my spine, and think quietly that I am the lucky one. That I’m luckier than he’ll ever know. That a man like Bael... difficult, complicated, fiercely devoted in ways he still doesn’t know how to say, chose me. Keeps choosing me. Every single day.

That he thinks I’m the gift, when he is the one who makes me feel like I am.