Chapter 51 The Defiant Submission
Elian’s heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, trapped bird.
The temperature in the dimly lit hallway seemed to skyrocket, suffocating him. He stared up at Lucien, searching the dark, heated depths of those green eyes for a shred of the man who had just staggered against the wall in pain, the man who had silently defended him in the throne room.
But that man was gone, buried beneath layers of pride, a desperate need to reclaim control, and a sharp, dark hunger that was dripping from his body.
"Lucien, we can’t..." Elian whispered, his voice trembling despite his best efforts to sound firm. He tried to pull his wrist from Lucien’s iron grip, but the hold only tightened, pinning him flush against the Duke’s solid, unyielding chest.
"I am not asking, young Morel," Lucien murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a dangerous shiver straight down Elian’s spine. His gaze lowered to Elian’s lips, dark with a hunger that defied his cold words. "You thanked me for my selfish reasons. Now, show me you mean it. Acknowledge who guards your life in this palace... and outside of it."
The sheer weight of the command pressed down on Elian. Every instinct screamed at him to fight, to slap the Duke’s face again, to remind him of the monster he truly was. But as he looked at Lucien, he remembered the alternative. He remembered Rowena’s malicious, honeyed smile as she wrapped her arm around his, trying to drag him into her personal hell. He remembered the council elders eager to lock him away in a dungeon.
Lucien was a monster, yes. But he was the monster keeping Elian out of the lion’s den.
Slowly, deliberately, the defiance drained from Elian’s shoulders. He let out a shaky, defeated breath, his eyes never leaving Lucien’s.
"If I do this..." Elian whispered, his voice dropping to a raw, breathless purr that made Lucien’s jaw twitch, "...will you believe that I am yours, and not his?"
Lucien’s grip on his wrist flared with a sudden, possessive heat. "Prove it," the Duke growled softly, his hand finally releasing Elian’s wrist only to rest heavily on his shoulder, applying a firm, downward pressure.
Elian didn’t fight the pressure this time. Maintaining unbroken, heavy eye contact, he slowly sank to his knees on the cold floor, the loose fabric of his dark brown pants pooling around him. He looked up at the towering silhouette of the Duke, completely at his mercy, yet fully aware of the absolute chaos he had just caused in Lucien’s heart with a single, fleeting kiss.
Lucien stood above him, his breath hitching as his fingers tangled tightly in Elian’s soft brown curls, tilting his face up. The iron control the Duke prided himself on was hanging by a single, frayed thread, pushed to the absolute limit by the terrifyingly beautiful submission of his favorite asset.
Slowly, Elian’s gloved fingers trembled slightly as they reached for the heavy silver buckle of Lucien’s belt...
The sharp clink of the buckle undoing shattered the suffocating silence between them...
Lucien watched with hooded eyes as Elian very slowly pinched the tips of his gloves, pulling them off his hands.
Elian’s hand moved; Lucien’s breath hitched.
He watched as Elian’s slim fingers pinched onto his zipper and pulled it down, the sound of his zipper being undone spiking his pulse and heart rate.
The moment the zipper came down, Lucien’s cock sprang free—hard, veined, with its head dripping and glistening with precum.
Elian gasped, his lips falling open as his tongue darted out to lick them. His throat bobbed up and down as he stared at the beautiful monster hanging and twitching right in front of him.
Lucien was so big, and Elian’s core was clenching with thoughts of exactly what Lucien could do to him with a cock so big.
Elian leaned in, his mouth a breath away from the crown as he lifted his lusty eyes to Lucien one more time. A soft moan suddenly escaped his lips when he saw the way Lucien was staring down at him with those dark, sexy green eyes.
The way Lucien’s jaw was clenched told the story of his control that was about to snap. Elian was a sight to behold—on his knees, and staring up at Lucien with those expressive blue eyes. Lucien almost came undone just by finally staring down at the image that had haunted him for weeks.
"Can I?" Elian whispered, eyes locked on Lucien as he leaned in, sliding his tongue under Lucien’s cock to catch the slimy drop of precum dripping from Lucien’s opening.
"Mmm..." he moaned, licking his lips to savor the salty, tangy taste in his mouth.
Lucien hissed, his breath visibly shuddering. "Fuck... yes, Elian, it’s yours..." he murmured huskily, his hips slightly pushing forward to reach the warmth he craved from Elian’s mouth.
Elian hummed lowly and finally leaned in, his tongue swiping the head of Lucien’s cock once.
"God..." Lucien grunted, his breath turning shallow as he felt that delicious lick of Elian’s tongue.
"More?" Elian asked, hovering his lips directly in front of Lucien’s cock.
A low growl vibrated from Lucien’s chest. "Do not test me, young Morel— Ah-sh... " Lucien sharply hissed a breath through his teeth, his entire body shuddering as Elian’s warm mouth closed around his aching crown.
Lucien’s fingers instantly slid into Elian’s brown curls—not forcing, just to anchor himself against the sudden, blinding rush.
Elian didn’t rush; even though he wanted so much to take Lucien all in, he didn’t. He wanted to give Lucien something he’d never forget, something that would replace whatever monster was living in his head.
With his lips closed around only the tip, he sucked slowly, his tongue swirling around the smooth head, drinking Lucien like he’d been starved for days.
Lucien’s knuckles turned white where they were tangled in Elian’s curls, his eyes flying to the entrance in both horror and excitement. Elian’s lips and tongue were literally sending him over to another realm.
"Elian..." He let out a warning, guttural growl, his fingers tangling in Elian’s hair.
Elian moaned and pushed his head in, taking Lucien’s whole length in at once.
A low, gravelly groan scraped past Lucien’s clenched teeth—a sound torn directly from his throat the moment Elian’s warmth enveloped him.
" Uughh... " Lucien’s hips twitched, his vision blurring from the intense sensation.
Elian gagged softly as Lucien’s thick cock slid deeper into his throat, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, he swallowed around the heavy length, his throat tightening rhythmically, taking him as far as he could.
"Fuck—Elian," Lucien groaned, low and broken. His fingers tightened almost painfully in those soft brown curls, his hips jerking forward before he caught himself.
The wet heat of Elian’s mouth was devastating. That clever tongue pressed flat against the underside of his cock, stroking every vein as Elian bobbed slowly, deliberately, savoring him like he was starving. Saliva slicked down Lucien’s shaft, dripping from the corner of Elian’s stretched lips.
Lucien’s head fell back against the wall with a dull thud, his breath ragged. "Just like that... gods, your mouth—" His voice cracked into a deep, filthy groan as Elian hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder, his eyes watering but never breaking contact.
Those blue eyes, glassy with lust and defiance, stared up at him the entire time. It was too much. The sight of the proud Truth Seeker on his knees, lips swollen and shiny around his cock, nearly undid Lucien completely.
This was so much better than he’d imagined it.
Elian pulled back with a wet gasp, strings of saliva connecting his lips to the flushed, throbbing head. He licked his lips slowly, tasting him, then dragged his tongue along the entire length before swirling it around the sensitive tip, teasing the slit where more precum beads were leaking.
"You’re shaking," Elian whispered, his voice hoarse and teasing, his lips brushing against the slick cock with every word. "Is this what you wanted, Your Grace? Me on my knees... worshipping you?"
Lucien’s answer was a guttural growl. He tightened his grip in Elian’s hair and pushed back into that wicked mouth, sliding deep until he felt the tight squeeze of Elian’s throat again. This time he didn’t hold back as much—shallow, controlled thrusts that made obscene, wet sounds echo softly down the dim hallway.
Elian moaned around him, the vibration shooting straight through Lucien’s spine. One of Elian’s hands came up to cup his balls, rolling them gently while his mouth worked him harder, faster, taking him deeper with every bob of his head.
"Shit... Elian," Lucien panted, his voice rough and desperate. His control was fraying fast. Every slick glide of that warm tongue, every tight swallow, every needy little sound Elian made was pushing him closer to the edge. "You’re going to make me come down your throat if you keep—fuck—"
Elian looked up at him again, eyes dark and hungry, silently daring him.
Lucien’s hips stuttered. His thighs tensed, his breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as pleasure coiled tight and burning low in his gut.
Elian pulled back just enough to drag a shaky breath through his nose, his lips glistening, stretched tight around the thick head of Lucien’s cock. Even on his knees, with tears clinging to his lashes and saliva slicking his chin, there was still fire in those blue eyes.
He didn’t look broken.
He looked dangerous .
Lucien felt it like a blade pressed against his throat—the terrifying truth that even while Elian knelt before him, sucking his cock in a dark hallway like a secret whore, the younger man still held power. Real power. The kind that made Lucien’s chest ache with something far more frightening than lust.
"You hate this, don’t you?" Lucien rasped, his voice rough as gravel. He tightened his fingers in Elian’s curls, not quite pulling, but anchoring him there. "Hate how badly you want to please the man who owns you."
Elian’s eyes flashed. He answered by sinking down again, taking Lucien to the back of his throat in one smooth, deliberate motion. The wet, choking sound that came from him was obscene. Lucien’s hips bucked, a low, broken groan tearing from his chest.
"Fuck... that’s it," Lucien growled, watching with dark, possessive hunger as Elian’s throat worked around him. "Look at you. My defiant Truth Seeker on his knees for me. My pretty little weapon... choking on my cock like it’s the only thing keeping you alive."
Elian moaned around him—a sound soaked in shame and raw pleasure. His hands clutched at Lucien’s thighs, his fingers digging in as if fighting the urge to push away and pull closer at the same time.
Lucien’s control was razor-thin. He used his grip on Elian’s hair to pull him off just enough to see his face—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, eyes glazed with lust and defiance.
"You could destroy me with one touch," Lucien whispered darkly, his thumb tracing Elian’s wet bottom lip. "One brush of your bare hand against mine and you’d know every filthy secret I’ve buried. And still... here you are. On your knees. Sucking me like a good little captive."
Elian’s breath hitched. The words struck deep.
He leaned forward again, this time slower, more intentional. His tongue traced every vein, every ridge, worshipping the heavy cock that represented everything he should despise—power, ownership, control. Yet he couldn’t stop. His own arousal throbbed painfully in his pants, untouched.
Lucien’s voice dropped into something almost tender, almost cruel:
"Tell me who you belong to, Elian."
He didn’t let Elian pull off to answer. Instead, he pushed back in, slow and deep, fucking his mouth with measured thrusts that left no room for defiance.
Elian’s muffled, wet reply vibrated around his cock.
Lucien’s eyes darkened with savage satisfaction. "Again."
Another deep thrust. Another broken, desperate moan.
"That’s right," Lucien breathed, his hips rolling lazily, savoring the tight heat of Elian’s throat. "You belong to me. Not the King. Not your dead father’s ghost. Not Cassian. Not even yourself anymore."
He watched a single tear slip down Elian’s cheek and felt something dangerously close to triumph twist in his chest.
Because no matter how many truths Elian could pull from others with a single touch...
right now, on his knees with Lucien’s cock down his throat, the only truth that mattered was this:
Elian Morel was his.
And they both knew it.