The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 734

Chapter 734: What He Taught Me (M)

In truth, the little fox never had the chance to rethink his choices.

Not when every part of his being was too thoroughly occupied—by sensation, by anticipation, and most of all, by him.

Yes, he was far too consumed by his husband to even remember the concept of breathing.

The first touch was riveting.

And most definitely unexpected.

It came just after Luca, fumbling with unfamiliar insistence over Xavier’s clothing, finally managed to undo the last barrier. His hands had lingered for a second longer than they should have, trying to steady himself more than anything. But when he peeled the fabric back and saw what it had been guarding, all thoughts, all caution, vanished.

He could have reevaluated his life choices then and there.

But even if he did, it wouldn’t have taken longer than when he decided to look for the monster under the sea.

Because just as his heart had beat recklessly for any form of earning, now his body yearned—deeply, instinctively—for this.

For Xavier.

He had seen it before. Felt it countless times. It had marked him, filled him, left him aching and breathless and undone. But this was the first time he was seeing it from this angle. In this moment. With Xavier lying beneath him, offering nothing and everything in return.

And it was also the first time he was about to try to give back without assistance.

His nerves prickled—not from fear, but from intensity. Because to do this, to even attempt it, his mind had to call forth everything his husband had ever taught him.

How Xavier touched him.

How his touch made him feel.

But more than anything, the memory of how he had once offered himself up completely, trembling but willing.

Was it like this?

When he’d spread his legs for the prince, was this what it had looked like?

He doubted it.

Because Xavier, the man lying beneath him now, looked far too enticing—like temptation incarnate wrapped in restraint. Even now, dressed in nothing but bare skin and tension, the prince didn’t move.

Getting to this point had been no short work for the little fox, who tried his best with nothing but his guiding energy and unsure yet determined hands. Xavier’s back was now propped against the pillows, shoulders half-raised like a statue frozen mid-ascent.

And yet he remained still.

Those piercing, red-tinged eyes stared at him with hunger and command, yet he didn’t pounce.

If only the little fox knew how maddening it was for the rampaging prince who wanted to devour his tempting warmth.

But maybe Luca knew.

Because while Xavier’s expression stayed composed, and his body showed no signs of impatience, the energy pouring off of him told another story.

It wrapped around the little guide like a second skin.

Thick. Heady. Taut with expectation.

Even without being touched, the prince’s energy reached for him, clawing silently for his body, for his guidance, for relief.

Luca found himself bracing a hand on Xavier’s abdomen just to steady the trembling in his own limbs.

His palm met that cold skin, and even through that simple point of contact, he felt it.

That pressure. That pull.

It was as though his husband’s self-control was holding back something feral, something desperate.

"Hah..."

Luca’s breath caught. He had to press harder.

Even if the prince wasn’t moving, the guide could still feel everything. His chest rose a little too fast. His muscles were tight, like he was holding himself back. And the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth gave away the strain of his restraint.

It was the kind of self-restraint that Luca hadn’t seen on anyone rampaging. He wasn’t sure whether it was because of the pills, the constant guiding energy, or just because the man was Xavier.

Luca swallowed, the heat in his cheeks spreading to his ears. His eyes trailed downward, taking in every inch of the man beneath him.

His skin.

The toned lines of his abdomen.

The thick weight of his arousal—undeniable, flushed, and twitching with need.

He looked like a sculpture come to life, carved not by marble but by want.

And it was Luca’s turn to do something about it.

His fingers unfurled gingerly against Xavier’s torso, spreading warmth. His other hand trailed lower, tentative but sure, tracing the same path the wolfish prince once kissed along his thighs.

Then came the first twitch.

And now the little fox wondered how his husband always managed to control himself when Luca’s own body reacted once he witnessed Xavier’s reaction to him.

His own hands were hot now.

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