I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Chapter 256: The Cost of Keeping Quiet

Zarius lay perfectly flat on the mattress, his breath hitching instantly as the bed dipped under Cherion’s weight. The sudden, intense proximity sent a shockwave through his system, his heart hammering violently against his ribs.

It wasn’t a reaction born of fear, there wasn’t a single soul in the entire empire who could make the leader of the North forces feel truly threatened, but rather the intoxicating, overwhelming weight of Cherion taking absolute, unapologetic charge.

Zarius blinked up at him, caught off guard by the look in Cherion’s eyes. Zarius could only watch, increasingly distracted as Cherion moved closer.

Then, Cherion’s hands reached up to his own collar.

Zarius’s breath caught entirely in his throat. He could only stare, completely wowed and utterly speechless, as Cherion began to deliberately, slowly unbutton his attire, letting the heavy outer layers slide off his shoulders one by one. The soft light in the room highlighted the sharp lines of Cherion’s collarbones as he peeled the fabric away. He looked breathtakingly beautiful, but more than that, he looked terrifyingly confident.

Cherion didn’t stop there. Keeping his eyes locked directly on Zarius’s face, he reached down to undo the fastening of his trousers, pushing them down his hips along with his underwear.

A flicker of panic crossed his face as his better judgment fought a losing battle against the feelings stirring in his chest.

"The... the door," Zarius rasped out, his voice dropping into a breathless, rough whisper. "Cherion, anyone could walk into the chambers..."

"I locked it," Cherion interrupted smoothly. A slow, wicked smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "I locked it the exact second we walked inside earlier. So stop worrying."

Cherion leaned back down, pressing his bare, smooth chest directly against the fabric stretched across Zarius’s torso. The contrast was maddening. Before Zarius could even utter another word of protest, Cherion leaned in and captured his lips.

The kiss was deep, fierce, and entirely commanding, effectively stealing the remaining air straight from Zarius’s lungs. Cherion parted Zarius’s lips with unyielding possessiveness, his tongue sweeping inside to claim his mouth completely. Zarius melted into the heat of it, his mind spinning from the sheer intensity of the taste.

When Cherion finally broke the mouth-kiss, he didn’t waste a single second. He immediately slid his lips downward, initiating a fierce, seductive attack by burying his face into the crook of Zarius’s neck. He pressed deep, passionate kisses along the rigid line of Zarius’s jaw, his tongue darting out to lick a wet path over the warm skin before biting down softly right over his pulse point.

Zarius let out a low, ragged groan, his instincts instantly flaring to life. His large hands twitched violently against the bedsheets, every muscle in his arms screaming at him to wrap his limbs around Cherion, lift him up, and flip them over to reclaim his dominance.

But the very moment Zarius’s hands lifted a single inch off the mattress, Cherion firmly planted both palms against the duke’s broad chest. He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to glare down at him.

"Did I say you could touch me?" Cherion whispered. There was a quiet certainty in his voice that made Zarius swallow hard. "Hands flat on the mattress, Zarius. Keep them at your sides. Don’t move a single finger to touch me without my permission. Do you understand me?"

Zarius’s jaw clenched, his entire frame trembling under the agonizing weight of the forced restraint. Part of him wanted to act, but he never seriously considered going against Cherion.

With a heavy, defeated exhale, Zarius slammed his palms flat against the sheets, his fingers clenching the fabric so tightly that the threads groaned under the pressure. His knuckles turned stark white, forcing his body into a state of absolute, shivering submission.

"Good boy," Cherion purred, thoroughly satisfied with the display of obedience.

Slowly, Cherion began to take the duke apart. His fingers worked with a mocking, agonizing slowness, unbuttoning Zarius’s heavy coat, tearing at the front closures, and peeling the layers away until Zarius’s heavily muscled chest was fully exposed to the cool air. Cherion’s hands trailed down the hard planes of Zarius’s abdomen, his fingernails lightly scratching over the rigid lines of his stomach, making the commander’s flesh twitch and ripple under the touch.

As Cherion moved further down, stripping away the remaining barriers of Zarius’s trousers, his movements suddenly stalled. He paused, his gaze dropping to the center of Zarius’s lap.

Right there, thick and entirely undeniable, a massive, rigid bulge was straining violently against the remaining fabric.

Cherion let out a soft, amused hum, a playful gleam dancing in his eyes as he shifted his weight to press directly against the rigid length. He reached down, his cool fingers wrapping around the hot, pulsing shape, squeezing it gently through the material.

"Oh, look at this," Cherion teased, his voice a low whisper as he looked up to lock eyes with Zarius. "Someone is being very impatient. And here I thought you were supposed to be on your best behavior."

Zarius threw his head back against the pillows, a desperate, broken gasp ripping from his throat as Cherion’s hand flexed around him. His hips twitched on instinct, trying to press harder into the touch, but he forced himself to hold back, his fists tearing further into the sheets.

"Cherion..." Zarius called, his voice breaking entirely, reduced to a rough, gravelly begging that he would never let another living soul hear. His eyes were wide, burning with a frantic, desperate hunger as he looked up at his mate.

Cherion’s eyes darkened at the sound of the fierce duke completely breaking down and pleading for his touch. The sheer power of having this apex predator entirely at his mercy, begging for him, sent a rush of pure adrenaline through Cherion’s veins.

"You really are a needy beast, aren’t you?" Cherion murmured, his thumb rubbing firmly over the crown of the bulge before he finally, mercifully pulled away the last layer of fabric, fully exposing Zarius’s aching, aroused length to the open air.

The heat radiating between them was absolute. Zarius was panting heavily, his chest heaving as he stared up at Cherion, his eyes practically wild with anticipation. He was completely bare, utterly exposed, and entirely helpless beneath the person who held his entire heart in his hands.

Cherion shifted, sliding down the length of Zarius’s body. He moved slowly, deliberately letting his bare stomach scrape against Zarius’s rigid thighs as he lowered himself between the duke’s legs. He hovered right over the aching, pulsing heat of Zarius’s arousal, his shadow completely enveloping the duke’s lap.

Before taking the final step, Cherion paused. He tilted his head back, locking his gaze with Zarius’s frantic, burning eyes one last time. The smirk faded, leaving behind a look that was far more serious.

"Let me remind you exactly who you belong to."