Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 122: Bonding

Chapter 120

Ciel

Turns out Nollie can listen to instructions, really, really well.

He unzips my pants with a boldness that surprises , his hand wrapping around .

He strokes slowly at first, his grip tight, his movents deliberate. I can feel the pleasure building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with each passing second.

"Faster, little doggy. Make him co undone," Jack commands, and Nolan increases his pace, his hand moving in a blur, chasing the release that’s just out of reach.

The room is filled with the sounds of our heavy breathing, the soft moans and whimpers that escape our lips.

The tension in the air is almost too much to bear, but I hold on, savoring the mont, the build-up of anticipation.

"Now, Nolan, finger him," Jack commands, his voice low and intense. "Feel how wet he is for you."

Nolan’s hand slides lower, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh before moving to my entrance.

I freeze for a second, before imdiately calming down this is Nolan. My Nollie, he would never hurt .

I can feel the coolness of his fingers, the gentle pressure as he teases , sending shivers of anticipation through my body.

"Fuck, he’s so wet," Nolan whispers, his voice filled with wonder and desire.

"I can feel how much he wants this."

"Push a finger in, Nolan. Slowly," Jack instructs, and Nolan complies, his finger sliding into with a gentle, deliberate movent.

I gasp, the sensation of fullness and pleasure overwhelming .

"More, Nolan. Give him another finger," Jack commands, and Nolan adds another finger, stretching , filling .

I can feel the stretch, the pleasure-pain that sends waves of ecstasy through my body.

"Fuck, he’s so tight," Nolan groans, his voice strained with effort and desire.

"I can feel him clenching around my fingers."

"Move your fingers, Nolan. Find his prostate," Jack instructs, and Nolan begins to move his fingers experintally until he gets a hang of it, curling them to hit that sensitive spot inside .

I cry out, the pleasure intense and all-consuming.

"Jack, I’m close," I gasp, my body tensing as the orgasm builds. "I can’t hold on much longer."

"Keep going, Nolan. Make him co undone," Jack commands, and Nolan increases the pace of his fingers, his movents urgent and insistent.

I can feel the orgasm building, the pressure in my balls, the electricity in my veins.

"Nolan," I gasp, my body tensing as I co, ropes of hot cum spilling over my stomach.

For a mont, everything blanks. My vision whites out, my breath stutters, my knees nearly buckle. I grab Nolan’s shoulder without thinking, grounding myself against him as the last tremor rolls through .

Never—never in this world or any other—did I think the day would co when Nolan would be the one making feel like this.

And I don’t...

I don’t technically hate it.

I slump back against the wall, chest rising and falling, breath unsteady. Nolan is flushed, wide-eyed, still catching his own breath, and I swear he looks at like he can’t believe what he just did either.

I wipe a shaky hand across my lower stomach, still trying to get my bearings.

Before either of us can say a word—

"Well," Jack drawls in my ear, entirely too pleased with himself,

"wasn’t that so good family bonding ti."

I burst into full, helpless laughter.

Because dammit, he’s right.

It was bonding.

***

Jack

I wash my hands and step out of the bathroom, the quiet of my room settling around like an unwelco reminder.

I’m... sad.

Pathetic, really — I just listened to the love of my life and the man I also want very much doing filthy things on the other end of a phone and sohow I’m sad.

I wanted to see it.

I wanted Nolan’s flushed face.

Ciel’s trembling mouth.

Their hands tangled.

Their legs tangled.

Their breaths hitting each other’s skin.

My imagination did its best , hell, my imagination nearly killed but there’s only so much a lonely man can build in his head.

I really need to hurry up and bring them here.

Or I should leave and go to them.

Whatever has them close to again, fast.

But... can I leave?

This palace is practically a luxurious prison at the mont.

Lessons, etings, etiquette drills, dia advisors, siblings suddenly popping out of nowhere — and every grown adult in this place insists on hovering like I’m going to break.

I sigh, walk to my wardrobe, and slide open the hidden panel.

The burner phone goes into the locked compartnt.

The one thing in this entire palace that actually matters stays close to .

The mont the door clicks shut, I’m alone again.

And gods... it’s too quiet.

Too big.

Too polished.

Too cold.

A prince in a palace, and all I want is the sound of my son babbling dada, Ciel humming in the kitchen, Nolan yelling at for existing.

I rest my forehead against the wooden panel and exhale.

The contrast hits like a punch. Marble floors instead of sand. Gold trimming instead of sun-ward wood. Silence instead of laughter.

I didn’t think it would be this hard.

I pull away, tug the shirt over my head, strip out of my slacks, every movent heavy and sluggish. The room is too large,every sound echoes. The bed too wide—no warmth on either side.

I turn off the last light and walk toward the bed.

Letting myself fall face-first onto the mattress, sinking into the softness that sohow makes everything worse.

I groan into the pillow.

What am I?

A child?

I sit up with a frustrated exhale and swing my legs off the bed and get up,go to the bag they let bring from ho, unzip it, and rummage through like a desperate raccoon.

My fingers brush against soft fabric — thin cotton.

Ciel’s shorts.

I pull them out and stare for a second. They look ridiculous in this royal bedroom, like sothing smuggled into a museum.

I bring them to my nose.

His scent is faint, but fading his pheromones barely there, disappearing by the day. The thought alone puts a tight ache in my chest.

But it’s still him. For now.

Climbing back into bed, like the pathetic love sick idiot I am, I finally fall asleep.