Chapter 171: The Dragon’s Crisis (M)
Definitely not him, right?!
Right?
But more than thinking about something impossible, maybe Riley should’ve reconsidered calling over the dragon who was already about to leave.
Because now that Kael had turned around, Riley’s brain finally remembered how to self-destruct.
For one, that face.
That annoyingly calm, sculpted, and totally deceiving face that had been very, very close to his just moments ago.
And that mouth.
That absolutely unfair, treacherous, and lethal mouth.
His hands twitched and his knees locked as he remembered all the sage teachings he’d thrown out today as he tangled with that mouth.
Including his pride. Especially his pride, since Kael was now looking at him—the fool who had made the mistake of stopping the dragon for the children’s sake.
Kael looked at him as if asking, "What?"
And Riley, the recent pride of Eryndra’s oddest creatures, only managed to blurt out, "W–Where are you going?" as his brain attempted to catch up.
Kael’s head tilted slightly. "To take a cold shower."
"Ah." Riley nodded, too fast. "Right. Good idea. You should—uh—you should cool down. Not that it’s hot. I mean, not—!"
He made a strangled sound halfway between a laugh and a dying bird.
Kael’s golden eyes slid down slowly—first his face, then his neck, then lower—far lower.
The movement was deliberate. Lazy. Yet extremely pointed.
"Why?" Kael asked. "Planning to join me?"
Riley’s entire soul wanted to leave his body, and yet, as if caged in and expected to fend off such brutal attacks on his sanity, all he could do was snap his legs together like spring-loaded gates while he crossed his arms so fast he could’ve fallen off the bureau.
His ears went red, and maybe if not for the fireproofing of that room, it wouldn’t just be the flowers that would be today’s casualty.
"Y–You! You—!" he sputtered, finger shaking.
What? What was Kael exactly, when he himself had done several "unthinkables" earlier?
But the golden lizard refused to take the memo and still looked at him with those disbelieving eyes and that faint shadow of a smirk.
Riley clapped his hands over his burning face. "Clothes! W–Where could I get clothes?! And why would I join you? I—I already took a bath earlier!"
Kael looked at him for a long, silent moment that screamed, Is that really what you want to ask right now?
But then, with that same infuriatingly calm voice, he said, "Oh. I was sure you needed it too."
Riley froze. "I—what—no! I’m perfectly—wait, what’s that supposed to mean?!"
"Nothing," Kael said smoothly. "Rightmost cabinet."
That was all he said before turning toward the door again, and that was all it took for Riley to trip over himself running the other way.
He practically skidded to a stop in front of the cabinet, yanking it open—and then he froze all over again.
Neatly folded inside were stacks of clothes. His size. His style?
Huh?
Definitely not his style because, since when did he do silk pajamas and comfortable indoor robes?
Not to mention the crisp shirts and suits that looked like they were someone’s monthly rent.
"???"
"Since when did Kael have such things in this room?" But there was no one to answer him since the smug dragon had already left.
So Riley just dressed while thinking about how he must’ve been living in luxury while passed out.
But really, even if his boss dressed him in rags and made him sleep on the floor, he still wouldn’t be able to complain about luxury when each drop of dragon blood typically cost as much as a house and lot. The ones with their own gardens, even.
And yet, he—the unidentified monster—had been chugging it for days.
Riley slumped inside the open cabinet and closed the door halfway, as if trying to shut out reality itself. The faint scent of silk and luxury hit him in waves, and his hand lifted before he could stop his fingertips from brushing over his lips.
"Gaaaah!" Riley groaned into his palms.
"Focus, you idiot. Focus on the—on the serious things." He slapped the side of his face to remind himself that he had no business remembering silks, lips, and dicks.
"Wait! What?! No—!" he hissed at the empty air, mortified
He definitely wasn’t thinking about dicks!
There was a pause.
He buried his burning face into the pile of silk shirts. "Dammit," he mumbled miserably, voice muffled by luxury fabric. "I need a priest. Or a lobotomy."
Yeah, a lobotomy would be nice.
__
Meanwhile, one golden dragon was having an even bigger crisis.
Shhhh...
The sound of water filled the vast marble chamber. The grand bath of the Dravaryn estate resembled a natural cave more than a bathroom, with waterfalls flowing from crystal spouts into pools that shimmered with light.
And yet nothing felt serene in the face of the dragon lord’s visceral ache.
Kael stood under one of the waterfalls, water running down his face and shoulders. A hand was pressed against the stone edge, his eyes closed as he attempted to address his throbbing desire.
He tipped his head back and let out a low sound that barely counted as a sigh, yet it did nothing to fix his problem.
"Haa..."
Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw Riley.
Slender-bodied, pouty-faced Riley.
And he’d once again be reminded of how a certain aide clung to him, that fragile body pressed against his chest as breathless sounds left those beckoning lips.
The suffering lord could almost feel those arms wrapped around him, how the twig would tremble, but instead of pulling away, he’d cling even tighter.
Kael’s fingers moved slowly, deliberately, stroking his shaft. His throat moved as he swallowed hard, but the memory didn’t fade. If anything, the water only sharpened it—every droplet another echo of that moment when Riley’s hands fisted in his collar, drawing him closer, silent but insistent.
He remembered his warmth, his scent, and the way Riley’s lips would part for him. Stunned and shy at first, only to end up greedy and eager.
A muscle in Kael’s jaw flexed.
The same hand that now guided his pleasure had once held Riley. It was the same hand that traced down Riley’s spine, his slender neck, and the same hand that touched those lips.
The thought drew another sound from Kael, this time rougher. His grip tightened around his shaft as he imagined how it could’ve unfolded—how it should’ve unfolded.
If they hadn’t been interrupted—
He could imagine it too clearly. Riley’s flushed face, eyes hazy, trying to hide his expression but failing completely. The faint whimper that would slip past his lips, the way he’d probably call his name without even meaning to, only to get all angry afterwards, then swearing with that pretty little mouth.
Those legs would spread out beneath him, only to wrap around him with the intention of never letting go.
Kael’s breathing grew heavier. He could almost hear it—the small gasp, the pleading tone, the quiet, needy sound that always broke his composure far too easily. Knowing that nymph, he’d demand to no end.
"Greedy little thing," he muttered under his breath, the words more a confession than a complaint.
Riley would have reached for him again. He always did when overwhelmed, too proud to admit he wanted more, yet too human to pretend he didn’t. But just as always, Kael would have given in, because how could he not, when every selfish part of him ached to claim what he felt should be his to protect and—if he was honest—his to ruin.
The thought alone left him trembling faintly, the heat beneath his skin spreading until even the enchanted water could not soothe it.
His hand moved faster, his body on the verge of release as he imagined Riley pulling him in even closer, clawing at him, asking for more, all while giving everything in return.
"Haa... haa..."
Kael breathed hard, the sound rough against the quiet, and yet only a fraction of how they’ve been breathing at each other earlier.
He tilted his head back and let the water run down his face, but it didn’t cool him down.
"Ridiculous," he muttered.
Utterly ridiculous.
He was losing it. Absolutely losing it.
Worse, while he might’ve succeeded in denying it in the past few days, how could he even continue to do the same when all he could think of was taking that twig for himself?
Dammit.
Since when had a dragon of his age and power been reduced to this—unraveling over a memory, haunted by the taste of a single kiss?
Kael let out a low laugh, half a scoff, half disbelief. He ran a hand through his wet hair and looked down at his reflection, only to see the manifestation of his uncooperative desires.
The reflection staring back at him looked nothing like the composed, untouchable dragon lord.
"Pathetic," he muttered to himself, though the word lacked any true anger.
Because by the looks of it, this was going to be a long bath.