Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)-Chapter 279 - 274: I love you

Gabriel had barely caught his breath.

His body was still twitching from the aftermath, skin flushed, chest rising fast under the cooling weight of Damian’s body slumped on top of him—still inside, still thick, still hardening again.

"Fuck," Gabriel breathed, voice rough, throat sore from screaming, but his hips shifted, restless. His heat was still there—burning slow now, thick, sticky, needful. The bond crackled at the edge of it, not letting him fall into rest. Not yet.

Damian let out a low growl—head still buried in the crook of Gabriel’s neck. His hands flexed on Gabriel’s thighs, grip tightening again as the tremors in his body started to build.

He pulled back just enough to look at Gabriel.

Golden eyes, wild and raw.

"You started it," Damian said hoarsely.

Gabriel smirked, eyelids half-lowered, lashes wet, lips parted. "And you said—what was it? Two days?"

Damian didn’t answer with words.

He grabbed Gabriel’s hips and flipped him onto his stomach with one motion—sharp and fluid, dragging him across the table until Gabriel’s knees hit the edge and his ass was perfectly lifted, flushed and slick, thighs already marked from where Damian had held him.

Gabriel gasped as the cold hit his chest, the table under him hard and unrelenting, but it was nothing compared to the heat behind him.

The sound Damian made was barely human.

He ran a hand down Gabriel’s back, then gripped the base of his neck, not forcing, just holding him down. His other hand dragged down Gabriel’s ass, spreading him open to see the mess he’d already made.

"Still fucking tight," he muttered, almost to himself.

Gabriel didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Just arched back into him, shameless and slick, offering himself again with a shiver that rolled down his spine like a challenge.

Damian’s restraint didn’t just snap this time—it detonated.

He slammed into him, harder than before, a brutal thrust that made Gabriel cry out—head tipping forward as his fingers clawed at the edge of the table. The sound that followed was obscene—skin on skin, the wet, devastating slap of bodies that knew exactly how to ruin each other.

And Damian was ruthless now, relentless fucking, pounding into Gabriel over and over, until his slick was running down his thighs and the bond was nothing but white-hot ether, burning beneath the surface of their skin.

Gabriel’s voice broke—half-moan, half-growl.

"Damian—ahh— I can’t—more."

"Yes," Damian snarled behind him. "You can. You will."

Gabriel whimpered, gasped, and clenched again—his body spasming, high-pitched keening as he came a second time, untouched, just from the sheer pressure and stretch and heat and the sound of Damian falling apart behind him.

Damian pulled Gabriel against him, one arm wrapped tight around his chest, dragging him upright until Gabriel was arched against his body, breathless, legs shaking, head falling back on Damian’s shoulder.

"I told you," Damian growled against his ear. "Two days. Maybe more."

Gabriel shuddered. "And I told you," he gasped, his voice cracking, "I’ve never done this without suppressants."

Damian froze for a second, something sharp and possessive flashing through him, then pressed a kiss to Gabriel’s shoulder, lips soft even as his hips rolled again, lazy and deep.

"We’ll find your limit," he murmured.

And thrust back in.

—

Damian didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

Not when the bond was singing through him like wildfire, not when Gabriel’s body kept pulling him in—wet, twitching, open. He had already knotted once, maybe twice, he couldn’t remember anymore, and every time he thought he might be able to slow down, Gabriel made a sound or gasped his name or arched into him like that, and it all vanished again.

Now, they were tangled on the floor near the fireplace, sweat-slicked and trembling, Damian’s arms locked around Gabriel’s waist, his cock still buried deep, knot swelling again. Gabriel’s thighs were shaking so badly he could barely hold himself up anymore—so Damian held him. One arm wrapped beneath his chest, the other braced at his hip, keeping him steady even as he pushed in again.

Gabriel whimpered, soft and broken. His cheek was pressed against Damian’s forearm, lips parted, eyes glazed. His fingers gripped Damian’s wrist—not to stop him, but to feel him. To anchor.

He wasn’t crying.

Not yet.

But he was close.

"Too much," Gabriel whispered, voice thin. "I—Damian, I—fuck—I want more—"

He choked on the last word, hips twitching, unable to push back but also unable to stop. He was shaking now, slick and overwhelmed, mouth open in a moan he couldn’t catch. His heat wasn’t subsiding—it was cresting again, burning through the bond like ether-fed fire.

Damian didn’t speak.

He just kissed the top of Gabriel’s spine, slow and reverent, before snapping his hips forward again—deeper, brutal, dragging another gasp from Gabriel’s lips.

"You have more," Damian growled, voice ragged. "You’re mine."

Another knot was coming.

Gabriel could feel it, the thick swell pressing against him with every thrust, the pressure building again with nowhere to go. His body was too raw, too wet, too perfectly ruined. He sobbed out something half-coherent, his body bucking helplessly as Damian’s knot began to push in—slow, forceful, stretching him again.

"Damian—fuck—I—"

And then it locked.

Gabriel screamed.

Not from pain, not even from the force of it, but from the bond lighting up. His orgasm hit him without warning, tearing through his already spent body, making him sob out Damian’s name as his entire world folded in on itself. His nails scraped down Damian’s arm. His back arched, and his voice cracked.

"I—Damian—I love you," Gabriel gasped, the words breaking out of him like they had been trapped for years, carved out by pleasure and pain and something far deeper.

"I love you," he said again, louder this time, almost desperate. "I—fucking—love you."

Damian stilled, buried deep, locked in place, his hands gripping Gabriel’s hips like he could fuse them together. He groaned low in Gabriel’s ear, voice shaking.

"You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that."

Gabriel whimpered, throat too raw to speak again. His body was trembling in Damian’s arms, muscles spasming from overstimulation and the bond still flaring like a livewire.

Damian kissed his temple, then his shoulder, then the corner of his mouth—soft, breathless, overwhelmed.

"I love you," he whispered back between every kiss, "I love you. I love you."

Gabriel blinked slowly, wet lashes fluttering.

And then he collapsed, fully and finally, against Damian’s chest.

His body was boneless now, ruined and flushed and glowing, the heat still there but softened, sated for the moment. The tremble in his limbs hadn’t stopped, but his scent had sweetened—less desperation, more home.

Damian held him tighter, not letting go, not pulling out, not even moving.

Just whispering, over and over, into his skin:

"I love you. You’re mine. You’re safe."