Morning.
Nicole slowly blinked her beautiful eyes open. Her first sensations were of absolute security and warmth, wrapped tightly in Lucas's embrace. Her body felt soft and slightly aching; as the scenes from the previous night flashed through her mind, a deep crimson blush crept up her face.
"So wicked..." Nicole whispered. Seeing Lucas's handsome face so close, sleeping soundly, she couldn't help but steal a long, doting look at him.
Her heart felt sweet and full. She nuzzled her head into the crook of Lucas's neck, a happy smile gracing her lips. She finally belonged to the Master. Eventually, she drifted back to sleep; her body was far weaker than the beast-girls', and as it was her first time, her body was quite exhausted.
Time ticked by. The sun rose high, its light piercing through the gaps in the window shutters and slowly crawling across the bed until it hit their faces.
"Mm?" Lucas's eyelids flickered. He cracked them open, immediately winced at the light, and shielded his eyes with his hand.
He felt the steady, warm breath against his neck. Looking down, he saw Nicole's long hair; the girl in his arms was sleeping peacefully.
"I haven't slept this late in a long time," Lucas muttered. He reached out to block the sun from Nicole's face. Based on the angle of the light, it had to be at least 9:00 AM.
Usually, he was up by 6:00 AM for morning training, followed by breakfast and a mountain of official duties. With the rapid development of Sedona city, he had to keep a close eye on everything—after all, no one else fully understood his modern requirements.
"Ngh...!"
A lazy, soft moan sounded. Nicole opened her eyes and, seeing his expression, blushed and scolded him under her breath, "Master, your hand..."
"What about my hand?" Lucas's lips curled into a smirk.
Instead of answering with words, he slid that same hand slowly downward, tracing the elegant dip of her waist, then lower still, until his palm settled possessively over the soft curve of her bare hip beneath the sheet. Nicole's breath hitched. Her thighs instinctively pressed together, trapping his fingers right where the heat of her body was already gathering again.
"Master… it's morning…" She whispered, voice trembling with equal parts embarrassment and anticipation. "We—we just… last night…"
"Exactly." His voice was low, rough with sleep and renewed hunger. "Last night was the first time. This morning is practice."
Before she could protest, Lucas rolled them so she lay beneath him, the sheet sliding down to pool around her waist. Sunlight painted golden stripes across her flushed skin and the faint red marks his mouth and hands had left the night before. Nicole's arms came up instinctively to cover her breasts; he caught her wrists gently but firmly and pinned them above her head with one hand.
"Look at me," He ordered softly.
Her eyes, glassy with embarrassment and want, met his. Lucas leaned down and kissed her—slow at first, coaxing, then deeper, hungrier, until she was arching beneath him and making those small, helpless sounds he was already addicted to.
His free hand traveled lower, parting her thighs. She was still swollen and slick from the night before; the moment his fingers brushed her sensitive folds, Nicole jolted and whimpered into his mouth.
"Still so wet for me," He murmured against her lips, circling her clit with lazy, maddening pressure. "Did you dream about this, Nicole? About waking up spread open for your Master?"
"N-no—ahh!" Her denial dissolved into a sharp gasp as he pressed one long finger inside her. She was tight, sensitive, and so incredibly responsive that Lucas had to grit his teeth to keep his own control.
He worked her slowly, curling that finger, then adding a second, stretching her with careful patience while his thumb kept steady circles on her clit. Nicole's hips began to rock involuntarily, chasing the pressure, her breathing turning ragged.
"Master… please…" She whimpered when he deliberately slowed down right as her thighs began to shake.
"Please what?" He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, then the sensitive spot beneath her ear. "Use your words, Nicole."
She turned her face into his neck, mortified, voice barely audible. "I want… I want you inside me again…"
Lucas groaned low in his throat. He withdrew his fingers, shifted his hips, and guided himself to her entrance. The broad head nudged against her, spreading her slowly, and Nicole's nails dug into his shoulders.
"Relax," He soothed. "Breathe."
She tried. He sank in another inch—then another—until he was buried to the hilt. They both stilled for a heartbeat, breathing hard. She felt impossibly tight around him, hot and fluttering, and Lucas had to press his forehead to hers to keep from moving too fast.
"You feel…" He rasped, "…perfect."
Then he began to move.
Slow, deep rolls of his hips at first—long, deliberate strokes that dragged against every sensitive place inside her. Nicole's legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, ankles locking at the small of his back. Each thrust punched a soft, broken cry from her throat.
The pace gradually quickened. The headboard tapped gently against the wall in time with their rhythm. Lucas grabbed her hips, angling her so he hit even deeper. Nicole's hands flew to his back, nails scoring red lines as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside her.
"Master—oh gods—too much—" She moaned, but her hips kept rising to meet him, greedy despite her words.
"Come for me," He growled against her ear. "Let me feel you."
One hand slipped between them; rough fingertips found her clit again and rubbed fast, firm circles.
Nicole shattered almost instantly.
Her back bowed, a silent scream caught in her throat as she pulsed around him, inner walls clamping down so tightly that Lucas cursed under his breath. He fucked her through it—harder now, chasing his own release—until the sight of her flushed, teary-eyed face and the rhythmic squeeze of her body undid him.
With a guttural groan he buried himself deep and came, hips jerking as he spilled inside her again.
They stayed locked together for long moments, panting, hearts hammering against each other.
Lucas finally pressed a tender kiss to her sweat-damp forehead.
"Good morning," He murmured, lips curving.
Nicole could only manage a shaky, embarrassed whimper in reply, hiding her burning face against his chest.
"Ah...!"
Twenty minutes later, the door was suddenly flung open.
SLAM!
Mina's footsteps were silent, but her entrance was frantic. She charged into the room, only to freeze mid-step, staring wide-eyed at the shifting blankets.
Lucas and Nicole both froze, turning to look at the cat-girl, whose face was turning a violent shade of red.
"Ahem... Sorry. Please, continue!" Mina squeaked, her face burning. She spun around and bolted out, slamming the door behind her.
"This..." Lucas stared at the door for two seconds before turning back to the beet-red Nicole. He said slowly, "Let's finish up."
"Huh?" Nicole's eyes filled with a watery mist. She lowered her head in shame. The Master is too much! Even after that, he still wants to...
"Kyaa!"
Half an hour later, Nicole had fallen back into a deep sleep. Lucas tidied himself up, tucked Nicole in, and stepped out of the room to find Mina waiting by the door.
"Master," Mina whispered, her face still flushed.
"Did something happen?" Lucas's eyes fixed on the letter in the cat-girl's hand. If it weren't urgent, she never would have barged in like that.
"Master, this is a letter from the capital that arrived last night." Mina handed it over.
"Oh? Did Lucy manage to get the medicine to the King?" Lucas took the letter. As he opened it, he instructed a passing maid to prepare some nourishing soup for Nicole, then asked, "And how is Catherine?"
"Master, things have exceeded our expectations," Mina said gravely. She had read the letter earlier, which was why she had been in such a rush—and why the awkward scene earlier had occurred.
In her heart, she really wanted to smack Nicole's bottom. Wasn't she supposedly the shyest one? How did she end up in the Master's bed overnight? No wonder he missed training today.
"Eh?" Lucas froze as he scanned the parchment. "King is dead? And the First Prince murdered him?"
This was both outside and within his expectations. Power struggles for the throne were always bloody, but he hadn't expected it to happen quite this fast. Earth's history was littered with such tales.
"Master, there's more. Catherine's father plans to marry her off to Lucia in one month," Mina added. "There are several letters from Catherine herself included."
"I see." Lucas saw the words "I'll wait for you" in Catherine's handwriting and tucked the letters away. This was troublesome. If the First Prince took the throne early, it meant he preserved his strength and could focus entirely on crushing rebellions.
Lucas wasn't worried about himself yet—the Second Prince was in the way. By the time Lucia dealt with his brother, Lucas would have unified the West and be ready to swallow the First Prince's territory.
"Master, are we going to rescue Catherine now?" Mina asked softly. She was quite fond of the girl.
"Yes. And with Rhea joining us, the danger of the mission is cut in half," Lucas noted, heading toward his study. Without the birdkin, even a rescue attempt would have taken much longer to organize.
"The Duke's manor has realized someone is in contact with Catherine; they've declared martial law. Should I go help?" Mina followed close behind.
"Don't rush. We need a plan." Lucas's mind raced. Rescuing someone wasn't the hard part—especially from the air. No one would expect an extraction from the sky. The hard part was how to stir up enough trouble for the First Prince to stall his momentum.
Lucas sat down in his study and closed his eyes to think. Mina set a tray of breakfast on the desk and sat quietly by his side.
Stomp, stomp, stomp!
"Master! Something's wrong!"
Annie's voice preceded her as she burst into the room, gasping for air, a letter clutched in her hand.
"Master, an urgent message from the capital. Triple-priority!" Annie handed the letter to him. She had just returned from inspecting the Market and had met the courier at the castle gate. The envelope was marked with three "URGENT" stamps—a signal that something of catastrophic importance had occurred.
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