Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)-Chapter 278 - 273: Descending in heat (2)

Damian was panting now. Hard. His hand fisted white against the table’s edge, its scars still healing, but it wasn’t restraint anymore; it was desperation.

Gabriel moved like heat incarnate, dragging his mouth along Damian’s cock with torturous precision. Licking. Sucking. Pausing just enough to let the air touch wet skin before taking him back in, slow and deep. His nails curled lightly at Damian’s hips, not holding him in place; there was no need, Gabriel had control over him.

The scent in the room was thickening. Heat-heavy. Sweet and sharp with omega bloom, but threaded now with something darker—something that wasn’t just Gabriel.

Damian’s pheromones cracked like a fault line.

"Stop," he rasped, rather a plea than a command.

Gabriel stilled. Pulled off slowly, lips swollen, breath hot against Damian’s skin. Then he stood with a lazy elegance that didn’t match the flush creeping up his neck or the way his robe now clung to him with sweat and want.

"Why?" Gabriel asked, his voice low, warm, and devastatingly innocent.

He couldn’t. Not with the way Gabriel was looking at him—head tilted, expression soft with heat but eyes sharp as knives. Like he already knew the answer. Like he was the answer.

Gabriel stepped forward, slow and barefoot, the robe slipping further down one shoulder. His skin glowed in the low light, flushed from the bath, from the bond, from him. Every movement was a dare. Every breath a provocation of his restraint already thinning.

Damian’s hand twitched on the table, the wood creaking under the strain.

Gabriel leaned in until their mouths nearly touched, the barest brush of lips. Not a kiss—not yet—just the threat of one.

"Tell me," Gabriel whispered, voice curling like smoke, "why should I stop?"

Damian’s breath hitched.

Gabriel’s fingers slid along the waistband of Damian’s pants. "Because you’re afraid of breaking me?" he murmured, tugging the fabric just enough to make the air crackle between them. "Or because you already feel it breaking in you?"

That was it.

Damian’s restraint shattered.

The sound he made wasn’t human. It ripped from his chest like the last shred of reason being torn apart at the seams. One hand slammed against Gabriel’s lower back, dragging him in. The other tangled in the loose robe, ripping it down to bare skin with a low, guttural growl.

The scent hit him full force. Skin-to-skin. Mate-to-mate.

It hit the bond like fire to dry silk.

And Damian’s rut ignited.

The room changed instantly. Heat surged through the air, thick and electric. The fireplace flared once, then dimmed again under the weight of Damian’s pheromones. It was like a wall breaking.

His body moved without thought. He shoved everything off the table with a crash and lifted Gabriel onto it with brutal ease, mouth never leaving his. Their teeth scraped. Tongues clashed. The bond between them screamed with sensation—ether bright and molten under their skin.

Gabriel gasped as his back hit the polished surface, his legs spread instinctively around Damian’s waist.

"Just do it. I got myself ready," Gabriel whispered, clawing at his back, his voice unsteady but sure, so sure, even as his thighs trembled with the ache of heat and want.

Damian froze for a heartbeat, that sentence snapping something deeper than instinct.

The image—Gabriel alone, preparing for him, open and waiting, slick and aching while holding the bond in check—burned into his mind like a brand. And the possessiveness that followed wasn’t reason. It was rage. It was need. It was the demand of a mate pushed to the brink and finally, finally, let loose.

He growled.

"Didn’t you think I’d want to see that?" Damian asked, but Gabriel only smirked.

And then he pushed in, forgetting about his usual patience, just one violent, blinding thrust that buried him to the hilt in Gabriel’s body—hot, tight, slick, perfect. Gabriel choked on a cry, arching his back, his hands scrabbling against Damian’s shoulders as his entire body clenched around him.

The table groaned beneath them.

The room shuddered with the pulse of ether flaring from the bond.

Damian didn’t stop.

He was moving before he breathed. Harsh, hungry thrusts that shook the table beneath Gabriel’s spine, his rhythm devastating. There was no space for words now, no distance left between them. Only Gabriel—gasping, moaning, writhing—and Damian, holding him open, keeping him there like his life depended on it.

His mouth dragged down Gabriel’s neck, over the bond mark—still vivid, still raw—and he bit down, claiming, anchoring himself before he lost everything to the madness breaking through his blood.

Gabriel whimpered, body jerking at the contact, head tipping back as pleasure roared through the bond like fire in dry grass.

"Mine," Damian growled into his throat, his voice gone feral.

"All yours," Gabriel gasped, fingers fisting in Damian’s hair, dragging his head down to kiss him again—messy, rough, a clash of teeth and need that only stoked the heat between them.

The scent of sex, pheromones, and rut burned through the air like incense.

Damian’s thrusts got harder. Wilder. His vision blurred around the edges, everything narrowing to the slick slide of Gabriel’s body around him, the desperate cries torn from his mouth, the way their bond was now screaming between them with every thrust, every touch, every promise.

And still, it wasn’t enough.

Gabriel screamed, the sound raw, high, wrecked. His back arched violently, heels digging into Damian’s lower back, fingers tearing at his shoulders as his release spilled between them—hot, sudden, unrestrained.

His body clamped down around Damian in perfect, punishing rhythm, like it was trying to pull him even deeper, like it needed to.

Damian roared, the sensation hitting him with full force. The convulsing heat of Gabriel around him, the scent of his orgasm flooding the room, and the bond igniting again with Gabriel’s pleasure—it was too much.

Too much and not enough.

He slammed into him again and again, lost now—mindless, rut-driven, broken open from the inside. Gabriel was panting beneath him, still trembling from his orgasm, legs twitching from the aftershocks, but Damian didn’t stop. Couldn’t. He was fucking him now, not just claiming, thrusting deeper, rougher, fevered like his body was searching for something only Gabriel could give.

Gabriel, spread open, dripping, and still clenching, took it.

Took all of it.

His hands slid down Damian’s back, claws dragging faint red lines, and whispered, hoarse and smiling through the wreckage of his own release:

"Come on. You’re almost there."

That broke Damian.

With a ragged growl, he slammed in once, twice—then froze.

His entire body seized as he came—violently—his cock pulsing deep inside Gabriel with wave after wave of hot, overwhelming release. His hips bucked helplessly, his breath caught in his throat, and his arms locked tight around Gabriel’s body as if to keep him from slipping away in the dark.

The bond snapped taut.

Blazing ether surged through both of them—bright, electric, binding—sealing the mark, reinforcing what no words ever could.

They belonged to each other. Now. Always.

Damian slumped forward, still inside him, his forehead pressed against Gabriel’s shoulder, body shaking with aftershock and the weight of instinct finally quieting.

But his rut wasn’t done.

Not even close.