CHAPTER 228: CHAPTER 228: NOTIFICATION

Chris drew back just enough to catch his breath, lips wet and flushed, a thin strand of saliva breaking as he let go of Dax with a soft pop.

He sat back on his heels between Dax’s legs, eyes narrowing with something sharper now.

"You’re too damn smug," Chris said, voice low, trembling only from heat. "Always in control, always deciding when and how..."

His hands slid back up Dax’s thighs, firm, possessive, nails digging in just enough to make the king hiss.

"Not tonight."

Dax’s grin was feral, blonde-white hair falling loose over his brow as he lifted himself on his elbows, watching the omega between his knees with open hunger. "Careful, little moon," he drawled, violet eyes gleaming. "You have no idea what kind of fire you’re playing with."

Chris answered by wrapping his fingers around him again, harder this time, stroking it with slow movements. Dax’s breath hitched, his hips flexing against Chris’s grip despite himself.

"Oh, I know," Chris said softly, leaning in, his lips brushing the sensitive underside as he spoke. "I’ve been burned before. But you..." he licked a slow line up the length, tasting him, delighting the way Dax’s muscles jumped under his hands, "you’re worth it."

Dax’s head dropped back with a guttural growl, one hand tightening in the sheets, the other threading back through Chris’s black hair, holding him like he might vanish.

"Gods, Christopher..." His voice broke low, roughened by the kind of pleasure he rarely let show. "You’re going to ruin me."

Chris gave a breathless laugh against him, his tongue swirling over the flushed head before taking him deeper, bolder now, until Dax’s thighs trembled beneath his hands.

"Maybe that’s the plan," Chris whispered against his skin, then sank down again, taking more, setting a rhythm that had the king’s breath ragged, his composure fracturing with every wet pull and flick of Chris’s tongue.

Dax’s hips jerked once, a sharp, helpless motion that made him curse under his breath. "Mine," he growled, voice hoarse, his fingers curling against Chris’s nape. "No matter what you do, you’re mine."

Chris pulled back just enough to meet those blazing violet eyes, lips curved in a grin equal parts wicked and daring. "Then prove it," he whispered and bent again, determined to make the king come first.

Chris felt it first, the sudden swell in Dax’s length, the way the king’s hips tensed beneath his hands, and the ragged edge of his breathing as his fingers tightened just enough in Chris’s hair to warn him.

"Chris..." Dax’s voice cracked low, a warning, a plea, and a command all at once, but Chris didn’t listen. He kept his lips wrapped tight, his tongue working him with a boldness that only deepened as he felt Dax shudder.

Then the first hot spill hit the back of his throat, startling him enough that his eyes widened. The taste, sharp and salty, undeniably Dax, bloomed over his tongue, and Chris faltered only for a second before swallowing, breathing hard through his nose as Dax’s release came in long, staggering pulses.

"Fuck," Dax growled, his head falling back, his body arching as he spilled every last drop into the omega kneeling between his knees. His hand stroked through Chris’s hair almost reverently, guiding him through it, holding him there.

When Chris finally let him slip from his mouth, his lips were swollen, his eyes still wide, and he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, chest heaving. "You... you could have warned me properly," he muttered, voice hoarse.

Dax’s laugh was dark and low, his hand sliding down to catch Chris’s jaw and pull him up until he was straddling his lap. "You wanted control," Dax murmured, his thumb brushing over Chris’s reddened lower lip, his violet eyes dark with satisfaction and hunger that hadn’t ebbed. "But you forget who you’re dealing with."

Chris barely had time to draw breath before Dax claimed his mouth in a kiss that tasted of his own release, deep and possessive, his tongue sweeping in as if to claim every corner of him. When Dax finally broke the kiss, his lips brushed against Chris’s ear, his voice a growl that sank deep into Chris’s core.

"You feel it, don’t you?" Dax’s voice was a graveled rumble that vibrated through Chris’s very bones. His hand slid from Chris’s ass around to his hip, fingers digging in as he ground their bodies together. The rough friction against his own hard length made Chris gasp, his head falling back. "Your heat is here... and I won’t let you waste it."

Dax’s teeth scraped against the sensitive cord in his neck, warning him of what was to come. A shiver, violent and unbidden, racked Chris’s frame. The dizzying scent of his own impending heat, mingled with the raw scent of Dax’s dominance, created an intoxicating fog in the room.

"After this heat..." Dax whispered, his lips moving against the hammering pulse in Chris’s throat. "You’ll carry my heir. My blood. My legacy." His grip tightened, pulling Chris impossibly closer until every line of their bodies aligned. "No one else will ever touch what’s mine."

The declaration should have been a shackle. It should have sparked the familiar, defiant fire in Chris’s gut. But all it did was overwhelm him with a desperate, aching desire so intense that it felt terrifying. He was liquid heat and trembling need in Dax’s hands.

Dax didn’t wait for a reply. He moved, a fluid, powerful roll that pinned Chris beneath him on the rumpled sheets. The world tilted, and Chris was staring up at the king, who loomed over him, all hunger, hardened muscle, and intent. His white-blonde hair fell like a curtain, his gaze pinning Chris more effectively than his weight.

"No more games, little moon," Dax murmured, but his voice held no softness.

Dax didn’t wait for a reply. He shifted, fluid and controlled, until Chris was on his back beneath him, the mattress dipping under their combined weight, the room tilting as heat pulsed through Chris’s body in dizzy waves.

Chris grabbed at the sheets, his fingers clenching helplessly as another roll of heat tore through him. He tried to pull in a steady breath, but all he got was Dax’s scent, thick, warm, and merciless. His thighs shifted instinctively, his body moving of its own accord, chasing the pressure, the warmth, and the relief he couldn’t form words for.

Somewhere through the haze, Chris felt Dax shift his weight. His vision blurred at the edges, but he still caught the movement of Dax’s hand reaching toward the small control console built into the bedframe. A soft electronic click cut through the quiet.

Chris blinked up at him, dazed and overheated. "What... what was that?" His voice barely made it past his lips.

Dax didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned in closer, breath warm against Chris’s mouth. "A notification."

Chris frowned, heat muddling the edges of his thoughts. "For what?"

"For Killian," Dax murmured. "And every member of the high-rotation royal guard still on duty tonight."

Chris stared at him like he’d just confessed to detonating a bomb. "Dax. What did you just tell them?"

Dax’s violet eyes darkened like a door locking itself. Chris felt the sensation run straight down his spine.

"That the king is entering rut."

Chris’s pulse spiked so sharply he almost gasped. "You didn’t."

"Oh, I absolutely didn’t," Dax said, sounding far too satisfied. "But you did."

"What... how... why is this my fault?" Chris demanded weakly.

Dax brushed his thumb along Chris’s cheek, too gentle for the heat rolling off him. "Because protocol activates when your heat spikes against my pheromone output. It logs it as a combined event." His gaze held Chris in place. "Which means the guard now has to seal the entire wing. Aside from two named members, no one enters. No one leaves."

Chris swallowed hard. "Because we..."

"Because you are having your heat," Dax whispered, his lips ghosting his. "And now I’m not letting you out of this bed."