The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]
Chapter 417: Mess

Chapter 417: Mess

But if one person had been seeing stars every time he came, a certain prince could only see, hear, and feel his wife.

It wasn’t just the way Luca moaned his name, voice cracking like he was holding onto sanity by a thread—it was the way he screamed it when he was about to come undone. Every time, it echoed in Xavier’s ears like a holy chant.

More than the sounds, it was how Luca was everywhere.

He could see him—face flushed, hair clinging to damp skin, lips bitten red.

He could feel him—trembling, arching, wrapping around him like a glove.

He could hear him—soft gasps, needy whimpers, breathless pleas that made his blood burn.

It was overwhelming in the best way.

Right under him, with him, and even on top of him. Luca was doing things he’d never thought possible, even in his wildest dreams.

His wife didn’t just lie there. He clung. He moved. He tried, despite his lack of information, to match Xavier’s rhythm. And when he failed to hold on for longer, he’d pout with that frustrated little wrinkle between his brows.

Especially when he realized something.

"...Xavier?"

"Yes, love?"

"Why do I keep making a mess and you don’t?" Luca asked, scowling adorably as he looked at the marks of his orgasm everywhere.

Xavier blinked, then explained, not expecting to encounter such a question. "I do too...It’s just that I’m wearing a condom."

"Oh." Luca blinked. "Wait. Oh." His face burned. "Take it off."

Xavier nearly fell off the bed.

"?!"

"Luca—this is so you don’t have to deal with anything drip—"

But then Luca gave him a look. That wide-eyed, flushed, utterly determined expression that in his mind promised a world of disappointment, and the decision was made.

The prince swallowed hard, the opened wrapper in his hand left untouched, instead going for the lube once more.

"...Okay," he said, with the reverence of a man being blessed and judged all at once. "As you wish."

He was, after all, an obedient husband.

Maybe a selfish one too.

Because when he entered again, this time with nothing between them, he swore under his breath.

It was hot. It was intimate. And it felt criminally better.

The slick heat welcomed him back greedily, and Xavier couldn’t tell if he was imagining things or if Luca’s body really was clenching tighter around him. Maybe it was all in his head, or maybe it’s because he’s more comfortable knowing that Luca’s more used to it now. But how was he supposed to get over this?

Luca gasped. His back arched again. "Xavier—" he whimpered, high and broken.

"Baby, give me a sec," Xavier said, breathless as he tried his best not to waste this grace by shooting right as he entered.

"I—" Luca looked dazed, overwhelmed. "You feel...bigger."

Fuck.

Xavier choked on a groan. He hadn’t even moved yet.

But when he did—

Luca cried out.

His hands flew to Xavier’s back, nails dragging down without meaning to. His legs wrapped even tighter. And his whole body pulsed like a live wire, too sensitive, too responsive, too perfect.

Every thrust now was skin-to-skin, heartbeat-to-heartbeat.

No barriers. No hesitations.

Only them.

And Luca, sweet and still flushed, moaned with every movement, his words turning into gasps as he whimpered his name over and over again.

And Xavier? He was gone.

Buried so deep in the person he loved, body on fire, senses overloaded, and heart cracking open wider than he ever thought possible.

They were breathless and raw, and everything honestly felt more monumental than any coronation he could have.

He surged forward, capturing Luca’s lips in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, wild and wet, their mouths crashing together like they were starving. And maybe they were.

Their bodies slid against each other, slick with sweat and heat. Xavier’s hands gripped Luca’s thighs, fingers digging in just enough to leave prints, as he thrust into him, bare, direct, fully connected.

Luca cried out, head thrown back against the pillow, his spine arching in a perfect curve. He clung to Xavier’s shoulders, legs already locking around his waist as their hips met with a smack of skin that echoed in the room.

It felt so different, like he’d been allowed to have the forbidden fruit. His forbidden fruit.

Too much.

Too good.

Xavier groaned, eyes rolling back for a heartbeat. "F—Luca—"

That heat, that slickness, that raw, unfiltered pressure—he could feel every flutter, every pulse, every inch of Luca wrapped tightly around him like velvet soaked in fire.

And his wife—his sweet, trembling little fox—was writhing beneath him. His hands clawed down Xavier’s back, desperate for grounding, while his lips searched blindly, landing along Xavier’s throat, then jaw, then mouth.

They kissed like they were fighting.

Sloppy. Eager. Desperate.

Grinding into each other like the friction might brand them, and fighting for the right to drive each other to the edge.

Xavier moved faster.

Rougher.

Each thrust got Luca bolting up from the bed, eliciting broken cries from his lips that had Xavier snarling into his neck. His hips pistoned forward, their stomachs slapping together, their chests rubbing tight, overstimulated as their nipples kept brushing against each other.

Luca couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. He was too full, too stretched, too surrounded by Xavier.

But gods—he wanted more.

"Xavier," he whimpered, voice cracking. "Please—don’t stop—don’t—"

Xavier didn’t.

The prince kissed the corners of his eyes, hands spreading Luca’s thighs even wider as he drove deeper, watching the way Luca’s body responded—shaking, clenching, welcoming.

Every part of him felt like it was on fire.

And then Xavier angled just right—and hit that spot again.

Luca screamed.

His nails dragged down Xavier’s back, his body jerking as his vision whited out.

Xavier growled, gripping Luca tighter, thrusting into that sweet, devastating place again and again, until Luca was a mess of sobs and pleas.

They were grinding now, hips rocking in tandem, their releases building together, synced by instinct.

And when Luca leaned up, desperate, aching, and bit Xavier’s shoulder with a stifled moan, that was it.

"Luca—" Xavier choked. "Now. Come with me. Now—"

Luca broke.

He came with a full-body shudder, head thrown back, a silent scream leaving his lips as he pulsed around Xavier’s length, hot, tight, pulling him in.

Xavier followed a heartbeat later, buried deep with a strangled groan, hips grinding through it, riding out every last wave.

They collapsed together.

Their chests heaving.

Bodies barely moving—slow, shaky thrusts as the last tremors faded.

Neither spoke.

They didn’t need to.

And they wouldn’t even be able to if they tried.

But what spoke for them was how their skin stuck together as their hearts thundered as one.

And maybe that was everything. Or as close as they could get.

For now.

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