Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 39: Farewell [M]

I stand there, listening to Roman’s words, the details sinking in like cold water. Victor’s execution is set for five days from now. Five days. It’ll take two days to reach the capital by carriage, leaving me with little time to act.

I feel a knot tightening in my chest, but I push it aside. I make up my mind right then. Tomorrow, I’ll spend the entire day with Noelle—every single moment. We’ll hold on to the life we’ve built here for one last day, then, when night falls, I’ll leave with Roman. The thought alone feels like a punch to the gut, but there’s no other way.

Before Roman leaves, I ask him to head into town and find Ben. He nods, understanding the urgency, and heads off. The moment he’s gone, the weight of everything presses down on me harder, but there’s no time to linger on it.

That night, Noelle and I just hold each other. Neither of us speaks of the looming departure, of the danger or the inevitable goodbye. Instead, we talk about nothing—small, silly things, memories from random moments, plans that will never come to pass. We laugh softly, speak in whispers, our words blending with the quiet hum of the night.

There’s something bittersweet about it all, a slow-burning ache beneath the comfort of his warmth. The night stretches on like a fragile thread, and I cling to it, refusing to let go.

As the first light of dawn begins to creep into the room, our voices grow softer, fading into the quiet. Eventually, the pull of sleep becomes too strong, and we give in, falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, savoring every second before everything changes.

*

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Noelle stirs, blinking away the remnants of sleep, and glances over at Thorne’s sleeping form. The sight of him is breathtaking. His strong, chiseled chest rises and falls steadily, his muscles rippling even in rest. Noelle can’t help but admire him—his handsome face softened by sleep, the same man who commanded legions on the battlefield now lying beside him so peacefully.

A pang of sadness strikes him as he remembers that later today, Thorne will leave for the capital. Noelle wishes he could go with him, to stand by his side, but he knows better. Thorne needs to focus, to be free from the worry of protecting him. The people they’re up against had poisoned Thorne once before, and Noelle won’t be a distraction. Not yet.

He shifts slightly, pulling the quilt aside and crawling beneath it. As his gaze travels down to Thorne’s abdomen, he finds him half-hard already. A mischievous smile curls his lips. Noelle wraps his hand around Thorne’s cock, giving it a small, teasing pump. Slowly but surely, he feels it stiffen under his touch, responding to his ministrations. When it’s fully hard, Noelle releases a bit of his pheromones, filling the air with the sweet, intoxicating scent.

He lowers his head, licking the tip, his tongue tracing along the underside of Thorne’s length in a way he knows drives him wild. Sure enough, Thorne groans deeply, his voice a low rumble that sends a thrill through Noelle’s body. As he works his mouth around Thorne, he slides his free hand to his own backside, slipping a couple of fingers inside. He moans, the sound vibrating around Thorne’s cock.

"Fucking hell, my star... what a way to wake up," Thorne’s voice is hoarse and heavy with sleep, his eyes half-lidded as he watches Noelle through the haze of arousal. Noelle winks up at him, unable to respond with words, his mouth too occupied.

"You vixen," Thorne mutters with a crooked grin, his hand sliding into Noelle’s hair, gripping it tightly as he guides his head at the pace he likes.

For a while, Noelle lets him take control, savoring the way Thorne takes over, but then Thorne suddenly pulls him off with a soft pop. "Come up here," Thorne commands, his voice softening, and Noelle obediently shifts, moving up until he’s lying beside him.

"I woke up doused in pheromones, feeling like I’m in heaven. I’m not complaining, not at all," Thorne whispers into his ear, his deep voice sending shivers down Noelle’s spine. Slowly, Thorne presses his cock inside Noelle, inch by agonizing inch. Noelle bites his lip, wanting to move, to feel more, but Thorne stills him with a firm hand.

"Oh no, I know you love it hard, but not today. Let’s savor this morning," Thorne murmurs, his tone teasing but gentle. He begins to move, slow and steady, each thrust deliberate and deep. Noelle whimpers, the slow pace driving him to the edge, a delicious torture he both loves and hates.

"Look at how easy you’re taking me, so wet and slick. Did you touch yourself, my star?" Thorne’s voice is low and intimate, his words making Noelle shudder. His thrusts are slow but forceful, each one sending sparks of pleasure through Noelle’s body.

Noelle opens his eyes and finds them facing the mirror across the room. The sight of their intertwined bodies reflected back at him is enough to make his breath hitch. His skin is flushed, his nipples hard, his erection leaking between them.

"Look at the way you react under me," Thorne murmurs, his hand moving from Noelle’s chest down to his cock, tracing the slick trail of precum. "You’re like a doll made for me, my star. Just for me."

Noelle’s eyes well with tears, the overwhelming pleasure and emotion building inside him. Thorne’s words, whispered against his ear, make him tremble. "You’re so pretty, flushed in pleasure," Thorne continues, his relentless pace driving Noelle closer and closer to the edge.

"Thorne... I can’t take it anymore..." Noelle gasps, his body shaking with the need to release.

"It’s okay, my star. Cum for me. I’m close too," Thorne whispers, and with that, Noelle lets go, the orgasm crashing through him with a force that leaves him trembling in Thorne’s arms. Thorne follows moments later, his seed spilling deep inside, the warmth of it spreading through Noelle’s core.

They lay there, breathless and sated. Thorne presses a soft kiss to Noelle’s neck, murmuring, "See? It’s not so bad to take it slow sometimes."

Noelle can’t even respond, his body utterly spent, yet his heart is full.