Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 195: Like it? [M]

I pull my shirt over my head and toss it aside, not caring where it lands. My skin feels tight, my body buzzing with anticipation as I look at him. It’s been too long—far too long—since I’ve had him like this. Nearly a week, give or take, though it feels like an eternity. The weight of the days apart presses heavily on me, and I can’t wait another second to feel him against me.

I pull Noelle into my arms, and the kiss we share is hungry, desperate. It’s not gentle or careful—it’s everything I feel for him poured into a single moment. He responds immediately, his lips matching my fervor, his hands tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer. It’s intoxicating, the way he gives himself to me so completely, yet takes just as much.

Goddess, I love him. I love him so much it burns, an ache in my chest that never fully leaves, no matter how many times I tell him.

My hands find their way to his waist, then to the hem of the elegant shirt he wore today. I untuck it from his pants with a quick motion, my fingers already slipping beneath to feel the warm skin I know is waiting there. But instead of the softness of his skin, I’m met with something different—something unexpected.

My fingers pause, brushing over the unfamiliar texture, and my curiosity flares. I pull back from the kiss, my breath coming in ragged pants as I look at him. He’s flushed, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of our kiss, and I nearly lose myself all over again just looking at him.

But that curiosity... it gnaws at me.

"What are you wearing?" I ask, though the question is more of a breathless murmur than anything else.

Noelle doesn’t answer right away. His cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red, and he looks away, avoiding my gaze. It’s adorable, the way he’s suddenly shy, and it only makes me want to see what he’s hiding even more.

Without waiting for permission, I tug at the buttons of his shirt, my hands fumbling in my haste. The damn things won’t cooperate, and frustration bubbles in my chest. With a growl, I lose what little patience I have left and simply rip the shirt open, the buttons scattering across the floor.

And then I see it.

My breath catches, my entire world narrowing to the sight before me.

Straps of icy blue silk wrap around his body in intricate, deliberate patterns, clinging to him in ways that make my heart race. The delicate floral lace is nothing short of art, flowing over his chest and torso like a living thing, teasingly concealing and revealing all at once. Each petal, each thread seems perfectly placed, drawing my eyes to every curve and line of his body.

The light catches on the embroidery, giving it an ethereal shimmer, and for a moment, I wonder if I’m dreaming. He looks otherworldly, like a star descended from the heavens. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

My throat goes dry, and I swallow hard, my voice failing me.

"What is this..." I finally manage to croak, my eyes tracing the straps as they disappear beneath the waistband of his pants. My fingers follow their path, ghosting over the fabric with reverence.

Noelle shifts under my gaze, his embarrassment evident in the way he turns his head, refusing to meet my eyes. "Don’t stare at me like that," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

I can’t help the small, breathless laugh that escapes me. "Shhh," I tell him, my voice soft but filled with awe. My hands continue their exploration, running over the intricate patterns, memorizing the way the silk feels against his skin.

"Care to show me the rest?" I ask, my voice rough with desire. "My beloved star?"

Noelle hesitates, his teeth catching his bottom lip, and it’s the smallest gesture, but it’s enough to undo me. He nods after a moment, his hands moving to unbutton his pants. When they fall to the floor, I lose what little composure I have left.

The straps and lace continue downward, hugging his hips, framing him in ways that should be illegal. Whoever designed this—whoever thought of this—has no idea what they’ve done to me. My hands flex at my sides, trembling with the effort it takes not to grab him and lose myself completely.

He’s breathtaking. He’s perfection. He’s mine.

I take a step forward, closing the distance between us in an instant, and pull him into my arms. My lips crash against his, the kiss searing, desperate, and he melts into me like he always does. His arousal presses against my stomach, and it’s enough to drive me wild, to make me forget everything except him.

I guide us to the wall, not breaking the kiss even as I press him gently against it. His back arches, his body fitting against mine like we were made for this, like we were made for each other. I pull back slightly, just enough to look at him again.

He’s trembling, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his lips parted as he looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes. My hands roam his body, slipping under the straps, tugging at the lace, unable to stop myself from touching him everywhere.

"You’re stunning," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. "Do you know that? Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

Noelle doesn’t respond, but the way he looks at me—soft and vulnerable and completely trusting—is answer enough.

My hands glide down his back, feeling the smooth planes of his skin, before settling on the curve of his perfectly shaped butt. He’s trembling under my touch, and when I brush my fingers lower, I feel it—he’s already dripping. My chest tightens with need. I’m not the only one desperate tonight.

A groan escapes me as I fumble with my pants, barely managing to shove them down and kick them away. My arousal is almost painful, and the sight of him standing there, hands braced against the wall, waiting for me, is more than I can bear. My hands shake as I stroke myself once, twice, just enough to ease the ache, before stepping closer.

The delicate blue lace that clings to his body is teasing me, tempting me, and with a quick tug, I push the fabric aside to reveal him completely. I don’t hesitate—there’s no room for patience or teasing tonight. With one swift, deep thrust, I’m inside him, and the sensation nearly brings me to my knees.

"Heaven," I murmur, my voice thick and raw. That’s what this is. That’s what he is.

Noelle’s body arches, his back pressing into my chest as he lets out a choked moan. My hands grip his waist, fingers digging into the straps of lace, as I set a brutal pace. There’s no gentleness, no restraint—just the overwhelming need to have him, to claim him, to remind both of us that we belong to each other.

Each thrust pushes me deeper, hitting the spot inside him that makes his knees tremble and his moans louder. Before he can cry out, I lean forward, my lips brushing against his ear as I cover his mouth with my hand.

"We don’t want to wake up our daughter, do we?" I whisper, my voice low and teasing.

He shakes his head, biting down on the edge of his lip to stifle another moan, but his body betrays him. The way he clenches around me, the way he shivers with every movement—it’s too much. My groans mix with his muffled sounds, the air around us heavy with the scent of sweat and lust.

I can feel myself unraveling, the coil in my stomach tightening with every thrust. I know I won’t last long—how could I, with him like this? His body is perfect, his sounds intoxicating, and the way he looks over his shoulder at me, his eyes heavy-lidded and filled with desire, completely undoes me.

My hand slides lower, wrapping around his hard length, and I match the rhythm of my strokes to the pace of my hips. Noelle’s head falls back, and he groans against my palm, the sound vibrating through me.

"That’s it, my beloved," I whisper, my voice hoarse. "Come for me."

The moment his release hits, his body tightens around me, and I lose all control. I bury myself as deep as I can, my release surging through me in waves so powerful I feel my mind blanking out. His trembling, the way he clutches the wall for support, and the soft sounds he makes as he comes down from his high only intensify my own pleasure.

When it’s over, I pull out slowly, and I can’t help but stare at the evidence of our passion. The creamy white liquid dripping from him, staining the delicate blue lace, is the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen. My arousal stirs again, already preparing for another round, and I bite back a groan.

Noelle turns to face me, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen from biting back his moans. "I take it you like it?" he asks, his voice teasing but breathless.

"Like it?" I repeat, my voice thick with emotion and desire. "That would be an understatement."

He smirks, giving me a look that’s both shy and bold, before turning and walking toward the tub. The sway of his hips is exaggerated, deliberate, and it sends a fresh wave of heat through me. My hands clench into fists at my sides as I watch him, my eyes tracing every curve and strap.

I take a step forward, my resolve crumbling. "You know," I say, my voice low and rough, "another round wouldn’t hurt."

He looks over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Then what are you waiting for?"

And just like that, I’m on him again, the tub forgotten as I pull him into my arms.