Chapter 51 CHAPTER 051
Soren wakes up from the morning sun piercing blindly through the curtains, but it's been a while since he opened his eyes, since he realizes he can't move a single muscle in his damn body, his lower back aches, and his ass is sore. And since he comes to the realization of what he has done.
He slept with Reign. With the one person he should fear coming close to discovering his secret. Soren holds the sheets over his head as he realizes again how foolish he's been. It's crazy how he feels no shred of regret for his actions.
Maybe it's because he's that infatuated with Reign, or maybe it's because Soren has no idea the gravity of what he has done and the punishment that awaits, yet there's no regret. It's foolish, stupid, and should have never happened.
Soren screams into the covers, suddenly kicking his legs and trashing around the covers, but then, the door suddenly opens. Soren gasps, throwing the covers over his head one more time to hide away from the Enigma, who slips into the room with a blank stare.
Soren's heart slams hard against his rib, panic and uncertainty coursing through his veins. It can't be that he'd discovered Soren's secret and is here to throw him out.
Soren shuts his eyes, feeling his heart in his throat as he waits for the worst, and a second later, Reign is yanking off the sheets from his body.
Soren gasps, shivering in sudden cold because he's fucking naked. His eyes widen as he pathetically tries to cover his body.
“What the fuck?!” He clamors, but Reign only gives him another blank stare. Soren notices that he's changed the scent patch to a new one, which means his rut isn't over yet, and which means he's here to ram Soren's again and continue from where they stopped last night.
The second Reign reaches out to touch Soren's leg, he jerks, pulling away, but groans loudly when he tries to sit upright. He hisses. “I can't take any more dick in my ass,” he complains.
Reign rolls his eyes. He grabs Soren's ankle and pulls him closer, and in one swift motion, he hooks his hands under his knees and nape, lifting him effortlessly bridal style, and then he takes him to the bathroom.
Soren keeps his arms wrapped around his neck, snuggling into the warmth of his body, and then he's being lowered into a bathtub of warm water.
The warm water closes around Soren’s body, and he lets out a soft, shaky breath despite himself. Every inch of him aches, and heat seeps into his sore muscles, easing some of the tension coiled in his lower back, but it doesn’t erase the reminder of last night; nothing can. His fingers curl weakly against the edge of the tub as he sinks deeper, his body too exhausted to protest properly.
Reign reaches for the edge of the tub, rolling up his sleeves slightly before dipping a cloth into the water, and Soren stiffens instantly when Reign’s hand brushes his arm, the cloth dragging gently over his skin, but Soren stops him immediately.
“I can wash myself,” he blinks at the man, not used to being taken care of like this. It was Soren who threw himself at him last night, so it isn't his responsibility to take care of him; besides, Soren is not that fragile.
Reign stares at him for a moment before he dumps the cloth into the tub and stands to his feet. “Suit yourself,”
Soren pouts in a cold tone, and the man doesn't say anything more as he turns and walks out of the bathroom. “So cold,” Soren mutters, then he scoffs and proceeds to wash himself clean, puzzled at the many purple marks.
~~
Soren steps out of the room barefoot, dressed in a pair of oversized pants and sweatpants he found on the bed neatly. He walks down the hall barefoot, treading carefully, and seconds later, he steps into the living room. Instantly, Soren is overwhelmed by the smell of food that makes his stomach grumble.
He swallows greedily and follows the smell, which leads him to the kitchen, but the sight that welcomes him makes him pause abruptly.
Standing over the stove is Reign, dressed in the most casual clothes. Soren has ever seen him wear, and an apron tied around his hips, his broad back facing Soren, stirring something above the pan, filling the space with its delicious aroma.
Something warm pools in Soren's stomach, and a blush comes upon his face before he can help it, a stupid feeling that Soren suddenly hates at the domestic side of Reign.
Soren tucks a strand of red hair behind his ear and clears his throat loudly, and Reign looks over his shoulder.
“Sit,” comes the order, and Soren obeys, sluggishly dragging his legs over one of the stools near the kitchen aisle and sits down.
“Who would have thought the great Reign could cook?” Soren teases, resting his elbow on the aisle and chin to his palm as he watches Reign's back with a fond gaze and a mesmerized smile.
Reign turns, and in the next second, he drops a plate of juicy steak and a glass of wine in front of Soren. “You need your strength. I don't need you collapsing again like last night.”
Soren suddenly gapes, blinking rapidly to understand. “So I'm being fed to be fucked?”
Reign shrugs. “If that's how you see it,”
Soren's eyes suddenly turn into a glare. He grabs the fork and stabs it into the meat, and brings it up to take a bite without breaking contact with the man.
"You're such a tyrant,” he says, grabbing the glass of wine with his other hand and downing it down his throat before slamming it against the aisle, and a crack immediately forms.
Soren wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and slams the piece of steak down before rising to his feet. He walks around the aisle and grabs Reign by the front of his shirt. “Why wait till I finish eating when you can fuck me now since I'm just a fucking body with a hole to you?"
Reign looks at him with a sudden spark in his eyes. “I can do that,” he replies, just as calm, and that calmness snaps something in Soren.
He shoves him hard in the chest. “Fuck you!” he spits, the words laced with more than just anger, but Reign barely moves from the shove. Soren turns sharply, ready to walk away, but he doesn’t get far as Reign grabs his shoulder and presses him against the aisle.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Soren grits through his teeth, struggling against his hold.
Reign presses against his ass from behind and leans down, moving to his ear to whisper. “Weren't you jealous earlier that I have some beta in here to help with my rut instead of you? I'm giving you what you want.”
Soren lets out a bitter laugh. “You piece of shit,” he growls, twisting sharply, and this time, he manages to break free. In one swift motion, Soren lifts his hand, aiming straight for Reign’s face, but the enigma catches his wrist midair.
Soren freezes for a second, his chest rising and falling hard, his eyes burning with anger as he glares at him.
“Let go,” he orders, his voice low and shaking, but Reign doesn’t. Instead, his grip is firm, unyielding, his gaze locked on Soren’s like he’s trying to see through him.
Without warning, Reign grabs the back of Soren's head and pulls him in for a bruising kiss of all teeth and tongue while Soren pushes against his chest, layers of anger building in his stomach, but seconds later, he feels that anger turning into lust, and he yields without wanting to.
Reign breaks the kiss suddenly and spins Soren around, slamming his front against the aisle and pulling his pants down to his knees in one movement, exposing his ass.
Soren chuckles bitterly at how easily he's giving in. How his body betrays him without even trying, and when Reign slams into him from behind, Soren almost digs his nails into the concrete aisle, a surge of anger and pressure flooding through his veins, but underneath that, there's disappointment and hurt.
He hisses. What the fuck was he expecting? That Reign fucking him, making him food, and taking care of him after sex make him love or even like Soren? Did he expect the man to go soft suddenly?
Soren expects a little too much.