[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke
Chapter 328: Bent Over the Table (18+)

Chapter 328: Bent Over the Table (18+)

To suit Xion’s scholarly habits, Darius had purchased a new set of furniture just for him.

The table was carved from the most decadent dark mahogany, polished until it gleamed like still water. It reeked of wealth, discipline, and the arrogance of power.

This kind of table was meant for quiet contemplation, for books and brushes. It deserved to be used in the late nights when the peaceful time would be spent copying old scriptures under flickering candlelight.

Papers were still stacked on it along with ink and brushes.

And now Xion was pinned on that exact same table.

His cheek rested on a half-written scroll. It felt cool and dry against his heated skin. The sharp scent of fresh ink clinging to the parchment was enough to make him dizzy.

One of the brushes had rolled to the floor moments ago. Another lay forgotten beside his elbow.

With his hands raised above his head, he hastily clenched the edge of the table, trying to push himself off, but the big hand pressing on his shoulder blades kept him exactly there.

"Darius, you... you want to do it here?" His voice was breathless, tinged with disbelief and utter shame.

A low chuckle rolled from behind him.

"Why not?" the Archduke teased while running his finger down the bareback, tugging the chains. "From now on, every time you sit here to write, you’ll remember this. You’ll remember me."

The deep rasp in his low voice made Xion’s milky skin erupt in goosebumps.

"But," Darius’ needy little baby gasped as the cold hand on his back slid lower, cupping the curve of his buttocks and squeezing possessively, "m-my papers?"

"They’ll survive, somehow." His Grace leaned in, his heavy breath twirled against the shell of his heated ear. "You, on the other hand, darling? Maybe not."

Xion whimpered as he felt the hard shape of Darius’ cock grind against him.

He was getting hard just from a simple touch. Never once did he think that his body would become so sensitive to Darius’ touch.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he buried his face deeper into the parchment as if it could save him from the burning shame over this new shameful position.

It couldn’t.

The pleasure brought by Darius’s sinful hands was driving him into the hazy mess of bliss.

"You look so damn good like this," Darius whispered, trailing his fingers along the inside of Xion’s thighs. "Bent over your precious work, flushed, trembling. All for me."

The slender back arched. The current ran through Xion’s entire form when cold fingers grazed the sensitive skin between his legs.

Darius’ lips curved into a wicked smile.

"I was trying to be patient, you know, trying to be your good boy and wait for you to get better," sharp teeth nipped at the side of the already marked shoulders. "And you broke my walls with just one look."

He reached around, loosening the sash of Xion’s waist with one tug. The violet silk slipped open, spilling down his sides like water, leaving his legs bare. Then fell his undergarment.

The archduke sighed, almost reverently. His hands were roaming all over the warm skin, igniting fire in Xion’s belly while his mouth continued to kiss gently at the back of his neck.

Xion moaned softly, fingers tightening on the edge of the wood but Darius showed no mercy to him.

He pushed up the sheer veil clinging to the pretty legs, exposing flushed skin to the chill in the air.

When Xion tried to close his legs, Darius shoved his knee between them, forcing them apart.

"You don’t move, my dear bride," he said lowly, voice dripping with lust. His gaze locked onto the flushed pink hole between Xion’s spread thighs. "If I knew you were so hungry for my cock, I would have done this sooner."

One finger slid in with ease. Too easily.

Darius stilled for a second, then let out a surprised groan.

"You prepared yourself for me, didn’t you, baby?" he asked, sliding two more fingers in with no resistance. "So eager, hmm? Then you should also know what to call me."

Xion bit down on his lip. Fluster and heat raced over his skin, creeping down to his thighs, and up to his ears. Even the tips of his toes tingled.

He remembered a potionhis system made him drink. It said that the newly released medicine would stop the pain.

But it never told him how!

The wet, lewd sound of long fingers pumping inside him filled the study, blending with his panting breath.

It was vulgar yet so intoxicating.

"Darius, let’s go to bed," Xion whined, voice cracking as the fingers curled just right inside him. "Nngh!"

A loud smack landed on his ass, turning one pale ass cheek red. Books shifted from the impact. Paper crinkled. One of the inkpots wobbled dangerously at the edge.

But Darius didn’t care.

"Wrong word," he said coldly. "Try again."

"Y-Your Grace..." Xion whimpered, back arching with each stroke of those slick fingers inside him. "Ah!"

This time, the spank was harsh, forcing Xion to cry out louder.

"Wrong, darling. Try again."

Hips caught between wanting to pull away and press closer, Xion’s mind buzzed.

He couldn’t think past the slick squelch of warm fingers dragging over that devastating bundle of nerves inside him that made stars burst behind his eyes.

Just as Xion was close, the fingers withdrew suddenly.

The emptiness left him gasping. The pink pucker clenched around as if looking for something to fill it up, but there was nothing to soothe the craving.

"I-I want you." Xion was aching to reach that delicious high that would tip him over the edge.

"You know I’m not Your Grace to you. We are married."

The weight shifted behind Xion.

There was a rustle of robes along with the sound of a belt unfastening.

Xion felt the thick, hot press of Darius’ cock grind between his thighs. The hard column slid along his slightly swollen entrance though it did not push in.

"I want to hear it, Xion." Darius’ voice lowered to a growl, dangerous and tender all at once. Then, he spanked the tender flesh again before lovingly fondling the red marks.

It was so erotic, how the soft flesh rippled beneath his palm.

Xion let out a choked sob. His body betrayed him again as he shamelessly moved toward the pressure, desperate and wet and so ready.

"...H-Husband," he said the exact word his system advised him to use.

That was all it took for something to snap inside Darius’ mind.

His sharp jaw clenched and in a single motion, he thrust inside, burying himself to the hilt.

Xion cried out. His tied hands scrabbled on the ink-stained wood, body shuddering arching violently as the sudden fullness stole his breath away.

"Good boy," Darius growled, pulling out halfway before slamming in again with brutal force. "That’s my baby."

The golden bells chained across Xion’s little frame jingled with every motion. Each sound mingled with broken moans and whimpers, echoed like music through the study.

A divine symphony. Or perhaps the song of a temptress from hell.

And much to Darius’ amusement, his sweet little bride was both.

Big hands slid under trembling thighs. He lifted the slightly before spreading him wider, claiming every inch of access like he owned it.

The table creaked beneath them with every thrust. The scent of old paper and arousal mingled thickly in the air, making everything heated and sticky.

And Darius—mad with lust and love—thrust fiercely, determined to make this place of study into something else entirely.

Something that would remind Xion, that this is what happens when you wear something from another man.

"Who am I?" Darius snarled while slamming in. "Say it again."

"My h-husband. Nngh!"

"Yes," Darius hissed, fucking into him harder now, deeper, so deep Xion could feel it pulsing in his stomach. "No one else can touch you. No one can give you such lascivious clothes other than me. Only I am allowed to do it."

Each word was punctuated with heavy thrusts.

He rammed into Xion with brutal desire and adoring love. Yet he refused to touch Xion’s neglected cock.

"Cum for me, my beautiful bride," Darius pounded roughly. "Cum from getting your cute ass fucked."

The flushed kitten was pushed over the edge. With broken sobs and a rush of heat, Xion spilled across the parchment.

The thick white liquid dripped down the wooden table and some landed on the carpeted floor.

Behind him, Darius lost his barely there control.

His hips slammed harshly. He moved without any rhyme into the heat that clung to him like a dozen greedy mouths. The ravenous little hole milked him until he couldn’t hold back anymore.

A dizzying rush of pleasure spiked through his brain, and his grip on the slender waist tightened.

After a dozen or so more thrusts and Xion’s whimpers, the Archduke grunted. He buried himself one last time into the deepest part as he came, filling sobbing Xion with every sharp pulse of his release.

Then as if he wasn’t the one who rendered Xion in this helpless state, he leaned down and pressed a very gentle kiss on the sweaty neck. "I am not done yet."

After all, this was his wedding night. He had all the right to have Xion as he pleased.