Chapter 13: Fever

His mouth crashes into mine and it’s nothing like before.

This is heat, pure, desperate heat.

His tongue pushes past my lips and I taste him, whiskey and want and something that makes my brain go hazy, I wrap my hands around his shoulders and pull him closer.

He makes a sound against my mouth, half-growl, half-groan, and then his hands are everywhere. In my hair, on my throat, gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks I’ll feel tomorrow.

"Bael," I gasp between kisses.

"Shut up." He bites my lower lip hard enough to sting. "I don’t want to hear you talk. I just need..."

He doesn’t finish, he just yanks at my shirt, buttons scattering across the floor.

The cool air hits my overheated skin and I arch into him, desperate for contact, for pressure, for anything.

"Christ, you’re burning up." His hands slide over my chest, thumbs brushing over my nipples, and the sensation makes me cry out.

Everything is too much, too sensitive, the heat has my nerve endings screaming.

He pinches one nipple between his fingers and I nearly come just from that.

"Look at you." His voice is strained. "Already falling apart and I’ve barely touched you."

Another wave crashes over me and I writhe beneath him, slick soaking through my pants, making everything wet and desperate.

"Off." I’m clawing at his shirt. "Get it off."

He strips faster than I’ve ever seen him move. Shirt gone, pants shoved down, and then his skin is against mine and it’s like pressing against a live wire.

The pheromones coming off him are suffocating, making my body go liquid.

"Turn over," he orders.

I shake my head, I need to see him, need to watch him lose control.

"No."

His eyes flash. "Runze..."

"No." I spread my legs wider, pulling him between them. "Like this, I want to see you."

Something breaks in his expression.

He grabs my pants and tears them down my legs. Doesn’t bother being gentle, just rips them off until I’m bare beneath him.

"God, look at this." His hand slides between my legs and his fingers push inside easily, three at once, and I’m so slick they glide in without resistance. "You’re soaked, dripping."

I can’t form words, can only moan as his fingers move, stretching me, preparing me even though my body is already open and ready.

"Please," I finally manage. "Please..."

He pulls his fingers out and lines himself up. "I know, you need me to split you open and fill you until you can’t think."

He pushes in and it’s... everything.

My back arches off the bed, a broken sound tearing from my throat. He’s big, so big, stretching me wide even with all the slick, and the sensation is overwhelming.

"Breathe," he grits out, but I can see the strain on his face, see how hard he’s fighting not to just take.

"Move." I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Don’t be gentle, don’t... just move."

He does.

Pulls almost all the way out and slams back in, and the force of it pushes me up the bed. He does it again, and again, setting a brutal rhythm that has the headboard slamming against the wall.

Each thrust drives him against something inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyes. My cock is trapped between our bodies, the friction maddening, and I’m going to come, I’m already so close...

"Not yet." His hand wraps around the base of my cock, squeezing. "Hold it."

"No.. please..."

"Yes." He drives in deeper, changing the angle, and I sob. "You’re going to take everything I give you first."

His free hand grips my thigh, pushing it up and out, opening me wider, and the new angle is devastating. He’s so deep like this I can feel him in my throat.

"That’s it." His breath is ragged against my neck. "Take it, take all of me."

The sounds filling the room are obscene. Wet slaps of skin, the creak of the bed, my desperate whimpers mixing with his harsh breathing, slick is everywhere, making everything slippery and hot.

"Touch yourself," he orders.

My hand fumbles between us, wraps around my cock, it’s already leaking, desperate.

"Show me." His eyes lock onto where I’m touching myself. "Show me what you need."

I stroke in time with his thrusts, and the dual sensation is too much. Heat, friction, fullness, the weight of him on top of me.

"Bael, I’m..."

"Come." He drives in hard. "Come on my cock, let me feel it."

I shatter.

My orgasm rips through me with a violence that makes my vision white out. I clench around him, my whole body going taut, and I’m coming so hard I can’t breathe.

"Yes," he groans. "Just like that, squeeze me."

He doesn’t stop moving, he keeps driving into me through the aftershocks, through the oversensitivity that borders on pain, until I’m making sounds I don’t recognize.

"Again." His hand replaces mine on my cock, stroking firm and fast. "Don’t fight it, your body wants this."

My head thrashes. "Too much..."

"Not enough." He tightens his grip. "Come for me."

And somehow, impossibly, I do. The second orgasm builds faster, harder, crashing over me before I’m ready, I arch and thrash beneath him, completely undone.

"That’s two." His voice is wrecked. "Now I’m going to knot you."

The word makes something primal in me respond, my body clenches, trying to pull him deeper.

"Yes," I gasp. "Please, please..."

"I’m right here." He leans down, his weight pressing me into the mattress. "Right here, I’ve got you."

His thrusts get shorter, harder, more erratic, I can feel the base of his cock starting to swell.

The knot.

"When it catches," he says roughly, "don’t fight it, let your body take it."

I nod frantically, too far gone for words.

He slams in one final time and I feel it swell, catch on my rim, stretching me impossibly wide.

It hurts, it’s too much, it’s perfect.

My body opens for it, pulling it inside, and when it locks into place we both groan.

He’s coming. I can feel each pulse, hot and endless, filling me up.

"Don’t move," he gasps. "Just... stay still."

But I can’t.

The heat is still burning through me, the knot is pressing against every nerve ending inside me and I need...

I roll my hips experimentally and we both curse.

"Runze, don’t..."

I do it again, grinding down on the knot, feeling it drag against that spot inside me that makes me see stars.

"Stop." His hands grip my hips, trying to still me. "You’re going to hurt yourself."

"Feels good." I’m delirious, grinding against him, chasing another high even though I just came twice. "So good..."

"You’re insane." But his hips are moving too now, tiny shallow thrusts that shouldn’t be possible but somehow are.

We move together, locked tight, the friction almost unbearable, my cock is hard again, trapped between us, leaking.

"One more," he mutters against my neck. "Give me one more."

His hand slides between us, gripping my cock, and that’s all it takes.

I come with a broken cry, clenching around the knot, and he follows with a groan, filling me more.

We collapse together, breathing hard, locked tight.

The heat is finally quiet, satisfied. For now.

Reality starts creeping back in.

We’re knotted, in his guest room. Feifei and Mother will be back soon.

"..ugh.. they can’t find us like this."

"I know." He lifts his head, meets my eyes. "When the knot goes down, you go straight to the bathroom and clean up. I’ll handle calling the doctor."

"Doctor?"

"For suppressants, emergency prescription." His jaw tightens. "We can’t let this happen again."

The words should hurt, they do hurt.

But he’s right.

My body is satisfied but my mind is racing. How are we going to explain this? What if they come back early? What if Mrs. Wen heard something?

"Stop thinking so loud," Bael mutters.

"How can I not..."

"Because panicking won’t help." He shifts again, testing. "Almost there."

The knot deflates faster this time, maybe ten minutes, he pulls out carefully and he’s off me immediately, pulling his clothes on with efficient movements.

I try to sit up and nearly collapse, my legs are like tofu, everything aches in that deep, thorough way that says I’ve been well used.

"Bathroom, now." He tosses me my torn pants. "These are ruined, there should be a robe in the closet."

I stumble toward the bathroom on shaking legs, slick and come trailing down my thighs.

In the bathroom, I clean up as best I can with shaking hands, when I come out in the borrowed robe, Bael is already on his phone.

"Yes, emergency heat suppressant prescription... No, I’ll send someone to pick it up..." He glances at me. "Within the hour. Thank you."

He hangs up.

"That was the family doctor, the prescription will be ready in thirty minutes." He straightens his shirt and moves toward the door, pauses. "You stay in this room, I’ll handle your family when they get back."

"Bael..."

He leaves without another word.

I sink onto the bed, body aching, mind reeling.

The heat is quiet now, but I can feel it simmering beneath the surface.

Waiting.

This isn’t over.

Not even close.