Chapter 11

Est was already too far gone to refuse him.

He kissed him long and deep – hands roaming down to stroke him, coaxing him hard again before slicking his fingers once more – hearing him moan into his mouth.

Still slick and trembling, Est pulled back just enough to flip William onto his back, hands spreading his legs roughly before pushing back inside him in one smooth, deliberate thrust.

“Oh – gods,” William broke, head thrown back, hands reaching to grip Est’s shoulders.

“You like that?” Est rasped, gaze dark as he held him in place and started to move, dragging slow and deep at first, feeling every inch of William’s body yielding to him.

“Yes – yes – just like that,” William moaned, thighs trembling around his waist, his hands pulling him close like he couldn’t get enough.

And Est gave him more.

He fucked him deep into the mattress – powerful strokes that left William crying out, hands tangled in Est’s hair and back arching up to meet him.

“You’re perfect,” Est groaned against his mouth, kissing him roughly before biting at his lower lip, grinding into him until their bodies moved together in a rhythm that was almost savage.

“You feel so good,” William gasped, breath hitching every time Est hit that aching spot inside him. “Harder – I want to feel this tomorrow – “

“You will,” Est promised darkly, one hand splaying possessively across his chest as he drove into him, faster now, deeper, losing himself in the slick heat of him.

“Yes – gods – yes,” William was a trembling wreck beneath him, hands gripping him so hard they’d leave bruises as the bed creaked under their movements.

Every thrust had him crying out, pleasure already mounting again, coiling hotter and tighter as Est ground into him with nothing held back – all sharp breaths and filthy murmurs spilling into the hot space between them.

“You’re mine to use,” Est whispered against his lips, voice rough with lust as he thrust into him again, harder this time. “Say it.”

“Yours… yours to use,” William moaned, lips parted in a shattered gasp as he held him close, legs locking around him.

And then William was coming again – harder this time, his back arching up into Est, hands dragging him down into a kiss that was all teeth and moans as heat exploded through him.

Est followed without hesitation, burying himself deep as pleasure ripped through him again – hands trembling as he held him close, their breaths tangled together, hearts racing like they’d just fought a battle.

For a long while after, they simply stayed like that – Est wrapped around him, forehead pressed to his shoulder, lips brushing his skin as their breaths gradually slowed.

By the time they finally stilled – hearts thundering, breaths tangled – Est had him cradled in his arms, hands stroking his hair, lips brushing against his temple.

“You’re dangerous,” William finally murmured, voice hushed and satisfied – eyes bright and face softened in the golden candle light.

Est laughed breathlessly – and kissed him once more, slow and sweet and utterly content.

The room had gone quiet, save for the soft rustle of the sheets and the hush of their breath.

William had all but melted into the bed – flushed and boneless, lashes low, his body still humming with the echo of everything Est had done to him.

Est sat back slowly, watching the rise and fall of the prince’s chest. William looked utterly undone – hair a mess, lips swollen, bite marks and hickeys scattered across his throat and chest like proof. Est’s seed was leaking from him, trailing down the insides of his thighs.

Est looked down at William – his gaze gentle now, all sharp edges smoothed into something tender.

“You’ll need cleaning up, Your Highness,” Est murmured, voice hushed, hands already reaching for a nearby cloth.

William’s lips quirked at that – amusement glinting in his gaze despite his exhaustion. “Going all formal on me again after what you just did to me?”

Est hesitated, then smiled faintly. “Old habits.”

Carefully – quietly – he stood, padding barefoot across the darkened room. He dipped a soft cloth into warm water from the basin near the hearth, wrung it out, and returned to the bed without a word.

William blinked lazily at him, eyes hazy. “Mmh… Come back,” he murmured, already half-asleep.

“I will,” Est said quietly.

“You take care of me well,” William murmured into his hair, lips brushing Est’s temple. “I like you like this too.”

Est made a quiet sound, heart thudding a little faster at the words.

He knelt beside him and began to clean him gently – the slick mess between William’s thighs, the sweat clinging to his stomach, the damp curls at his brow. Every stroke was slow and reverent. His hand trembled only once – when he wiped between William’s legs, and the prince let out a soft, pleased sound, shifting in response even in his state.

Est looked away quickly, jaw tight.

Once William was clean, Est fetched the blankets and drew them carefully over his prince’s body, tucking them beneath his arms like he might drift off in a cradle of warmth.

And then – for just a moment – he let himself lean in close, brushing his fingers through William’s hair. The prince sighed softly and turned his face into Est’s palm, a faint smile flickering across his lips.

Est closed his eyes.

What are you doing? his mind whispered. He’s a prince. You’re –

He didn’t finish the thought.

Didn’t want to.

Because the truth was – everything had twisted somewhere along the way.

Maybe it was the way William had begged for him. Or how he’d kissed him like there was no one else in the world. Or maybe it was just Est’s own undoing – the way he’d wanted to wreck him and protect him all at once.

He was already falling.

And gods, he shouldn’t.

Est sat there a long time after William fell fully asleep, watching the gentle flutter of his lashes, the way his chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths.

He should have pulled away.

Should have left, maybe.

But instead, he leaned in again, brushed a soft kiss to William’s temple – barely more than a whisper.

And then he sat back in the chair by the bed, silent, rigid, fingers curled into his own palms.

That possessiveness he’d felt earlier – when William begged, when he opened up under him so freely, so beautifully – it haunted him now. Like a fever still simmering beneath his skin.

He shouldn’t feel it.

Shouldn’t want to keep him.

But he did.

_____________

The fire had died down to glowing embers.

The shadows stretched longer across the floor, flickering gently against the carved walls.

Est hadn’t meant to stay awake this long.

He sat by the bed, wrapped in stillness, elbows braced on his knees, hands hanging loose. The room smelled like sweat and skin and candle smoke – and William. Gods, everything smelled like him.

He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking anymore – only that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Est.”

The voice was soft. Slurred, almost – thick with sleep.

Est blinked. Turned.

William was still half-asleep, one hand reaching blindly toward the empty side of the bed. “Come back,” he murmured, eyes barely open. “It’s cold.”

Est hesitated.

Then he moved.

He peeled off his tunic and slid beneath the sheets again, careful not to jostle the prince.

Didn’t matter.

William immediately turned toward him – hooked a leg around his hip and pulled him close with a sleep-heavy strength that surprised Est.

“Mmh,” he sighed, already tucking his face into Est’s neck. “Better.”

Est lay stiff for only a moment.

Then… he relaxed.

One of William’s arms wrapped loosely around his waist. His lips grazed Est’s collarbone, warm and drowsy, pressing an uncoordinated kiss there. Nothing sensual – just a soft, instinctive thing.

Est let out a slow breath. His chest ached – but less so now.

The worry, the possessiveness, the questions – they quieted, just for this moment.

He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.

But tonight, William had kissed him like he meant it. Had whispered his name like it mattered.

And for now – that was enough.

_______

The next morning, golden light spilled through the cracks in the curtains, glinting off the tangled sheets and bare skin. Est stirred first – the faint scent of William still clinging to him, a pleasant ache humming through his body.

Est woke slowly, warmth already pooled around him – and then he remembered where he was. Who he was with.

He shifted slightly – and looked down.

William was still asleep. Hair wild. A faint flush still painted his cheeks. There were bruises on his neck, faint red bites along his chest. Traces of last night. His body was bare beneath the sheet, the edge barely covering his hip.

Est’s breath caught.

He shouldn’t stare.

But gods – he couldn’t look away.

William looked so peaceful like this. Vulnerable in a way that felt private. Real.

And still – still – Est felt the echo of his voice from last night. Those filthy, teasing words. The way he’d begged. The way he’d smiled after, thoroughly wrecked, then kissed him like he was something sacred.

Est didn’t speak. He only let his fingertips drift through William’s tousled hair, brushing it back from his temple with a tenderness he hadn’t allowed himself before.

And slowly – very slowly – he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first. A press of his mouth against William’s, featherlight.

William’s brow furrowed faintly. Then his lips parted – still half-asleep, still dreamy – and he kissed Est back without question.

Another kiss. Deeper this time. Est’s hand curled at the back of William’s neck, drawing him in. He exhaled softly against his lips, pressing forward like he couldn’t help it – like he needed to taste him again just to breathe right.

William let out a low hum of surprise, smiling into the kiss as he shifted closer.

“You’re kissing me awake now?” he murmured, voice scratchy from sleep, lips brushing against Est’s. “What happened to the shy bodyguard?”

Est didn’t pull back. He kissed him again instead – firm and sure, hand gripping William’s waist as he rolled slowly on top of him.

“I’m still your guard,” Est said quietly, breath warm against his mouth. “Still yours.”

William’s expression flickered – something soft and flushed and quietly stunned.

He pulled Est in by the nape and kissed him again, slower this time. Lingering. Melting.

“You’re still here.”

It was said softly – with a smile. Not surprise. Not relief. Just quiet delight.

“I thought you’d sneak off to stand guard outside or something ridiculous.”

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

William yawned and shifted onto his side, arm slung across Est’s stomach. “Well, you’re not allowed to leave yet.”

Est’s mouth twitched. “You’re giving me orders now?”

“I’ve always given you orders.”

“Not ones like that.”

William grinned – then leaned in to kiss him again.

It was soft. Not a command, not a tease – just slow, tender pressure. A kiss meant for mornings, lazy and honest.

Est kissed back before he could think. Before the worry could creep in again.

He melted into that kiss without thinking – hands gripping William’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

One kiss became two, then three, deeper and wetter as sleep gave way to hunger.

“You’re insatiable,” William teased, voice rough from sleep but full of heat as he kissed him back.

“You make me that way,” Est murmured into his mouth.

“You feel so good against me,” William murmured between kisses, his hands roaming Est’s bare back, fingers trailing over muscle and spine.

Est could feel the prince’s hardening length against his hip – and his own cock responding in kind.

“You want me,” Est breathed – a husky, needy edge in his voice.

“After last night, I couldn’t not,” William answered, voice raw with desire.

And then Est was rolling him over – hands on his wrists, lips locking onto his as he pressed him into the bed.

“Gods,” William groaned, hips arching up into him – already trembling.

Est kissed him hungrily, hands moving over his chest – teasing one nipple between thumb and forefinger, kissing down his jaw to his throat, then further, mouth gliding across his chest, tracing every curve of muscle and flat plane of his stomach.

William’s legs parted without thinking, slipping open beneath the sheets in silent invitation.

Est hesitated, eyes flicking down to the warm stretch of skin and shadow beneath the covers – then back to William’s face. William’s hands slid up, cradling the back of Est’s head, fingers curling into the short hair there.

“Slower,” William whispered, still breathless. “Please.”

That was all he had to say.

Est sank down between his legs, letting their bodies fit together as if they had always been meant to. His hand found William’s hip, the other bracing beside his shoulder. The warmth of him – skin against skin – felt almost sacred in that moment.

“Let me see you,” Est murmured, kissing his way from collarbone to throat, pausing at every freckle like it meant something. “Let me feel all of you.”

When he pressed in, William gasped – soft and broken – his legs wrapping around Est’s waist, arms tightening around his neck like he never wanted to let go.

Every motion was drawn out – slow, deep, grounding. Est rocked into him with care, with reverence, forehead pressed to William’s, their breaths tangled. Each time William moaned, Est answered with a kiss – to his lips, his cheek, the hollow of his throat.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, barely a breath. “So warm. So perfect for me.”

William tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut, mouth open as he clung tighter, his heels digging in to pull Est deeper. “Don’t stop,” he whispered. “Don’t stop, Est. I need – ” His voice cracked.

“You have me,” Est answered, voice thick, possessive, full. “You have all of me.”

And with every slow, grinding thrust – every kiss and whispered praise – he made good on that promise.

By the time they stilled, sweat-slicked and panting in the golden hush, Est was still wrapped around him, face buried in William’s neck, hands splayed wide across his back like he never wanted to let him go.

“I need this more often,” William finally murmured, voice hushed and satisfied – eyes bright and face softened in the morning light.

Est laughed breathlessly – and kissed him once more, slow and sweet and utterly content.

And this time – they both knew – it was only the beginning.

___________

A soft knock at the door broke the quiet after a while, making Est stiffen in place. Reality seeped back in as he glanced around the room – sheets thoroughly rumpled, his own body still aching and slick from what they’d just done – and then down at William, whose face was still glowing with a sleepy sort of satisfaction.

“They’ll see,” Est muttered under his breath, ears going warm at the thought of the servants walking in on them like this.

William chuckled, catching the look on Est’s face. “That’s a rather sudden shift,” he teased, amusement sparking in his eyes at how quickly Est had gone from commanding and possessive to shy and careful.

Est reddened further. “I’m serious,” he murmured, fingers tightening a bit where they rested on the prince’s shoulder. “They’ll see you like this – see me – “

“Oh, they already know,” William said with a lazy grin, running a thumb over Est’s flushed cheek. “And they’re far too practiced to let on. Trust me – my servants are loyal. Even if they gossip amongst themselves, nothing ever leaves this residence. Ever.”

Another knock, quieter this time – followed by the low, deferential voice of a steward:
“Your Highness? Shall I prepare your bath?”

Est’s breath caught. He shifted slightly, as if to pull away, but William only huffed a lazy sigh and nuzzled into his neck.

“They really do know,” Est murmured, voice taut.

William smiled – slow, indulgent – his arms still looped loosely around Est’s back.
“Of course they do. They aren’t blind.” His voice was thick with sleep and satisfaction. “They’ve served me since I was a boy. They know discretion better than most lords do loyalty.”

Est pulled back enough to meet his eyes – not angry, just wary.
“It doesn’t bother you?”

William’s lips twitched. “That they know I spent the night underneath my beautiful, possessive guard?” His thumb brushed Est’s jaw. “Not in the slightest.”

Est flushed, and the shadows of something unreadable passed through his gaze. Slowly, he sat back on his knees, eyes flicking toward the door. “At least let me clean you up,” he urged softly, suddenly determined. “Them seeing you like this would really be too much.”

The prince’s mouth curled into an indulgent smile – more gentle this time – and he gave a small nod, shifting to let Est slip carefully away.

Est moved quickly but thoroughly – dampening a cloth and tending to William with quiet hands, careful and reverent as if washing him were its own sort of devotion. William let him, stretching out in the sheets like a satisfied cat, eyes half-lidded and fixed on Est as though he were some lovely new indulgence.

When Est was satisfied, William kissed him lightly on the lips and murmured, “That was sweet of you.”

Est’s ears were still warm as he gathered his robe and tied it around himself. “I think I’ll slip into my room now,” he murmured, mostly to avoid facing the servants in this state.

“You’re free to,” William replied with a smile, voice gone soft and pleased.

And then – with one last look at him – Est slipped into the adjoining chamber and pulled the door quietly shut behind him.

A moment later, William finally called for his servants.

Est could just make out the sounds of their footsteps and hushed movements as they attended to their prince. When his own servant eventually knocked and stepped into the dressing room to help him prepare for the day, the knowing glint in their eye was impossible to miss.

Est stiffened, hands clenching in the folds of his robe – but the attendant said nothing. They simply offered a respectful bow and began laying out clothes as though everything were perfectly ordinary.

And in the quiet between them, Est felt his face heat all over again – strangely breathless, strangely exhilarated – caught between last night and the new morning.

__________

When Est finally slipped out onto the terrace, the morning was crisp and bright, sunlight spilling across the table the servants had already prepared. Silver platters of fruits glistened in the light – ripe grapes, melon slices so sweet they perfumed the air – along with warm bread, cheeses, honey, and spiced tea steaming in elegant pots.

Est paused at the edge of the terrace for a moment, hands gripping the railing as he took in the sprawling view before him. The estate was truly spectacular – rolling gardens and green hillsides unfurling in every direction, birdsong carrying on the breeze. Away from the court, without the weight of his uniform and the ever-present scrutiny of noble eyes, Est felt almost light.

He lowered himself into one of the cushioned chairs and waited – and savored this sense of calm.

“You look like you belong here,” came a warm voice, smooth as honey.

Est glanced up to find William strolling onto the terrace, dressed simply in linen and dark riding breeches, his hair kissed by morning light. His gaze ran over Est – appreciative, amused – and that small knowing glint in his eye sent a fresh little spark through Est’s belly.

“My prince,” Est greeted, and William gave a lazy grin as he settled into the chair opposite.

“You slept well?” he asked, reaching for a glass.

Est’s cheeks heated. “Very,” was all he could manage.

William chuckled, sounding pleased, and they fell into easy conversation as they ate – their silences comfortable, though charged. Every so often Est would catch William looking at him too long, a wicked curve to his mouth that made his pulse jump.

“You seem more at ease,” William mused between bites. “The court uniform doesn’t suit you as much as something simpler. You look good like this.”

Est didn’t know what to say, only glanced away with a breath that felt too warm.

When they’d finally finished and pushed their plates aside, William wiped his hands and rose smoothly.

“Come,” he said, reaching out his hand. “I promised you a tour, didn’t I?”

When they rose from breakfast and began the tour, Est still felt that sleepy glow in his chest. The house was vast and airy – halls of polished marble, balconies draped in linen curtains that billowed with the breeze, rooms that overlooked green hills and a distant glimmer of water.

Yet he hardly noticed the architecture. It was the prince at his side who consumed all his attention.

“This,” William began, voice low and warm as they passed into a quiet colonnade, “is the eastern loggia. Good for afternoons spent reading—or… whatever else one fancies.”

Before Est could fully admire the view, he felt hands at his waist – deliberate hands – drawing him back into the shelter of a marble pillar.

“My prince,” Est began, breath already uneven.

“Yes?” William’s lips brushed Est’s ear as fingers traced slowly up his sides, thumbs rubbing circles into the softness just beneath his ribs.

“You… you said tour,” Est managed, one palm flat against the prince’s chest.

“I did,” William replied, tone silkily innocent. “But it would be a shame not to appreciate every beautiful thing along the way.”

And then he pressed Est closer, hands smoothing over the back of his tunic before slipping brazenly lower – cupping his backside with a possessive, gentle squeeze.

Est swallowed a gasp as William leaned in to kiss the hollow beneath his ear, mouth warm and deliberate.

“You look good,” William murmured there, voice husky as his palms kneaded slowly. “Without all that stiff uniform – more like yourself.”

Est couldn’t help the shaky laugh that escaped him. “And this is your idea of a tour?”

“Oh, this is me making sure you enjoy every stop,” William teased, and before Est could retort, the prince caught his mouth in a deep kiss – coaxing him into it slowly until Est yielded with a needy sigh.

And then, just as easily, William pulled back with a wicked smile. “Come,” he said breezily, as if they hadn’t just been twined together, and led Est onward.

They passed into a sun-dappled gallery next – walls hung with painted silk, windows thrown open to catch the breeze.

“And here,” William said, eyes gleaming with mischief as they paused before a terrace railing that overlooked a private fountain courtyard, “is where I usually take my afternoon tea.”

As Est moved to look at the view, hands glided up his spine – slow, unhurried – till they rested possessively on his shoulders.

“You’d look good here too,” William added with a hushed drawl, thumbs pressing into knots of muscle till Est’s knees nearly buckled.

“You’re torturing me,” Est breathed, half laughing.

“Mm. Am I?” came the murmur against his ear, so close that Est could feel the prince’s smile. “You don’t seem to mind.”

And Est couldn’t argue – not when William’s hands glided to his chest, brushing against his nipples through the linen until they peaked under that teasing touch.

Est’s hands flexed on the marble railing as he fought not to press back against him.

A deliberate nip at the curve of his neck. “Still,” William went on wickedly, “let’s continue. Plenty more to see.”

And so they moved on – into one airy hall after the next – though by then Est felt deliciously on edge, his entire body humming with awareness.

“You seem a little tense,” William murmured against his ear one of those times, sounding far too pleased.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” Est managed, breath hitching as William palmed him properly this time, bold through the linen.

“You make it too easy,” was all William replied, rubbing slow, unhurried circles until Est was aching, his cock stiff and leaking against the fine fabric – and then pulling back with a knowing wink before moving on as though nothing had happened.

Each new stop became an excuse for William to draw him close, to whisper something indecent into his ear.

“You know,” William murmured as they passed into a vine-draped breezeway, his palm flat against Est’s stomach, thumb rubbing slowly just above his belt, “I can’t wait to see you without these. Again.”

Est shuddered, leaning back against him for an instant too long.

“You’re impossible,” Est whispered.

“And you’re loving it,” William replied – smug and satisfied – then bit lightly at his jaw before slipping his hands away as if nothing had happened.

By the time they finally stepped into the gardens proper – an elegant maze of hedges and blooms – Est was aching, his breath a little short, and his body thrumming with need.

William sauntered ahead, hands tucked behind his back like a perfectly innocent prince admiring his domain.

By the time they’d toured the gardens, Est was hard, trembling at every ghosting touch and sly whisper. It was dizzying – having this side of the prince all to himself, this strange and intoxicating freedom away from prying eyes.

Eventually, William released him long enough to murmur, “That’s enough for now,” his grin wicked. “Let’s go riding. The hills beyond the east orchard are my favorite.”

Est was grateful for the reprieve as they changed into proper riding clothes.

The ride itself was glorious – warm sun, brisk wind, and a prince who clearly enjoyed setting a punishing pace. They galloped across hills blanketed with wild grass, Est falling into an easy rhythm alongside him, heart pounding for a different reason now.

And though his body still burned with that earlier tension, the open countryside and the prince’s bright laughter loosened something in him too. By the time they finally returned to the stables – cheeks pink, legs pleasantly sore, breath deep with the scent of horses and meadow – Est felt good.

Tired but glowing with a quiet satisfaction as he followed William up toward the manor again, already wondering – with a small thrill – what the prince had planned for the evening.

——————–

By the time they returned, Est was glowing – warm, windblown, and every nerve humming from all the subtle teasing.

Lunch was served under a pergola draped with flowering vines. The shade was cool, the air tinged with lavender. Servants moved smoothly to set out a light meal as the prince took his seat opposite him, legs gracefully crossed and a glass of chilled wine already in hand.

In a short while, they were alone, save for a servant who quietly filled their glasses and withdrew.

Est sat more at ease now, the high of the ride still in his blood. William, sprawled lazily in his chair, seemed content to watch him – eyes sliding over every bit of exposed skin, every shift in expression.

Est ate slowly, savoring the food and the easy atmosphere. The breeze was gentle up here, and he could almost forget the world outside this oasis.

Almost.

“I nearly forgot,” William said after a sip of his drink, dark eyes lifting to catch Est’s. “Some of my friends will be arriving this evening.”

Est paused mid-bite.

“Friends?” he echoed, feeling his stomach give an odd little twist.

William nodded casually. “A few of my closest. Some Lords I often hunt with, one of my cousins, and a handful of their partners – nothing extravagant.” A small smile curved his lips. “We’ll spend the weekend here. A shooting party, mostly. Hunting, good food, wine. The usual indulgences.”

Est kept his expression composed, reaching for his glass as though entirely unbothered. But inwardly, his thoughts spun.

Of course William would have guests. Of course this couldn’t all be just about him – a prince had duties, a social life that had nothing to do with the quiet, heated world they had built up in these last hours.

Est lowered his eyes to his plate, spearing a grape with practiced calm.

Still, a bitter pinch tugged at him. Less time together. More eyes on them. And the distinct knowledge that whatever this was between them would need to be tucked away in shadow when other nobles were present.

He took a measured sip of his drink and forced his voice to stay light. “That will be lively,” he managed.

And yet, even as he tried for indifference, his face must have given him away.

Because across the table, William studied him – those perceptive dark eyes softening, lips curling into a reassuring, wicked little smile.

“You seem… disappointed.”

Est looked up, carefully neutral. “Of course not. Your Highness has obligations.”

William’s brow arched. “We’re back to ‘Your Highness’ again?”

Est quickly schooled his features – lifting his chin, shrugging one shoulder as if none of it mattered. “Of course,” he replied smoothly, tone breezy. “Your guests will require your attention, after all. I’ll hardly want to be underfoot.”

That earned him a quiet laugh. “Underfoot,” William echoed, leaning toward him just enough that his voice dropped into something private, stirring heat through Est all over again. “That’s one thing you never are.”

Est didn’t respond.

The prince leaned forward, resting his chin in one hand. “I don’t intend to ignore you, Est.”

Est looked down again, reaching for his wine. “I don’t expect anything, Your Highness.”

A pause. Then a sigh.

“Liar.”

Est didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not when the ache inside him was part desire, part resentment, and all foolishness.

William didn’t press him further – not then. But the silence between them shifted, heavy with things unsaid.

And as Est sat there, outwardly calm, he couldn’t help but wonder how long this stolen intimacy would last – and how deeply it might break him when it inevitably slipped away.

_____________

Is the possessiveness starting already Est???

What do you think the next chapter will bring? Let me know your thoughts in the comments.

And as usual, I hope y’all enjoyed this!