Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)
Chapter 95 - 90: The Emperor’s Moves (1)

Chapter 95: Chapter 90: The Emperor’s Moves (1)

Damian’s chuckle echoed through Gabriel, low and dangerous, as if savoring the challenge. His grip tightened around Gabriel’s waist, drawing him closer until there was no space between them, the heat of their bodies creating undeniable pressure.

"Expect the same?" Damian repeated, his voice a rich, almost possessive whisper in Gabriel’s ear. "You may demand, but you won’t need to share, Gabriel." His lips pressed against Gabriel’s jaw, trailing a soft kiss down his neck, lingering where his skin was still burning from the previous touch. "I don’t plan to have anyone but you."

Gabriel sighed, still affected by the heat of the moment, but one of them should stop this; Charles was right outside, and for the first time in ages, Gabriel thanked any gods out there that Damian was so good at controlling his pheromones.

"How come that you aren’t releasing any pheromones?" He asked without thinking, shifting his body so that he could no longer feel the hardness under his buttocks.

Damian leaned back in the armchair, allowing Gabriel to rest his hands on the armrest. He had enough time to have him; there was no reason to rush. Waiting for him would only make it better.

"I am good at controlling them, and I don’t believe you want Charles to know what we are doing here." He said it with a wide smirk. Gabriel rolls his eyes in desperation.

He let out a quiet sigh of relief as he was finally able to breathe without feeling Damian’s intensity pressing against him. He ran his hand through his hair, still trying to shake off the heat from the moment.

"You are insufferable," he said with a playful grin, his words light but tinged with an underlying tension that had not gone away. "Really, Damian, it’s a wonder anyone can stand you."

Damian chuckled softly, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I’m sure you’re one of the few who can tolerate me," he replied, his tone teasing but still hinting at that possessive edge that always lurked just beneath the surface.

Gabriel shifted slightly in the armchair, trying to create some more space between them. "So," he began, glancing over at Damian with a raised brow, "how long am I expected to stay in the palace? Is this a temporary arrangement, or am I your permanent prisoner now?"

"What am I supposed to do with my work?" he asked, not giving Damian time to answer the first questions. He already knew the answer. "I have a meeting about the Blue Ether project in five days, and thanks to certain someone," he shot a pointed look at Damian. "I haven’t had time to prepare properly. And don’t even get me started on the ball every evening until then."

Damian’s eyes darkened briefly as he leaned forward, his fingers lightly brushing Gabriel’s arm as he spoke. "You will be staying close to me for now," he said, his voice firm but tinged with the familiar possessiveness. "You can work here, in my study. The palace has everything you need, and I can keep an eye on you while you do." His eyes held Gabriel’s for a beat, as if silently asserting that leaving wasn’t really an option right now. "I want you close to me. At least until things are settled."

Gabriel’s gaze flickered to the door, then back to Damian, a mix of irritation and reluctant understanding in his eyes. "I need to talk to my family," he said, frustrated. "I can not keep ignoring them."

Damian raised a brow, his expression softening, but only slightly. "You can call them if it is urgent," he said, leaning back in his chair with a casual air, but the possessiveness in his voice persisted. "Or we can talk at the ball this evening. Everyone will be there."

"You really are impossible, but I understand."

"Thank you."

Damian’s expression grew serious as he leaned forward, his tone sharpening slightly. "For now, I want some answers about the project," he said, his voice smooth but commanding. He returned to his usual self in a heartbeat.

Gabriel wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed or offended.

"You can’t be serious," he murmured, rising from Damian’s lap and smoothing his clothes. "I shouldn’t have mentioned the project."

Damian leaned back in his chair, the fingers of one hand drumming lightly against the polished surface of the armrest. His golden eyes never left Gabriel, studying him with a fervor that bordered on amusement.

"I have just a question," he stated, his tone deceptively casual.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, anticipating the direction of the conversation. "If it is the technical aspects of the project, I..."

"It’s not," Damian interrupted smoothly. "I want to know what Elliot Marina Claymore was in the project."

Gabriel paused for a fraction of a second before tilting his head slightly. "Would you prefer the politically correct or the honest version?"

Damian let out a deep, rich chuckle. "The honest one, of course."

Gabriel exhaled softly with a neutral expression, but his gaze was sharp. "He did nothing more than the bare minimum. His title and connections earned him a position, but he was only in charge of logistics."

He paused, fingers tapping idly against his own arm as a thought surfaced. "He did insist on taking the final document to the palace," he mused aloud. His brow furrowed slightly as he thought about it. He was distracted at the time, caught just before his heat, and did not give it much thought. Had he sanitized the document correctly? Pheromone residue could linger, but was it enough to cause a problem?

Damian said nothing, watching Gabriel as his thoughts turned inward.

Damian finally spoke after Gabriel returned his gaze to him. "I know," he said simply.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. "You know?"

"I was at Max’s house when Elliot threw the project at him," Damian explained, his voice carrying a hint of dry amusement. "He assumed I was just one of Max’s commoner friends, unimportant enough to be ignored."

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Gabriel studied Damian, trying to figure out what he truly thought about the revelation. However, the Emperor only leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the armrest.

"Tell me, Gabriel," Damian continued, his voice quiet but pointed, "why do you think Elliot was so eager to deliver that document himself?"