“Primrose—now I’m actually irritated, wondering what on earth happened back in that peaceful little territory of yours.”
It was a classic case of seeing what you wanted to see, but Lucian truly hadn’t the faintest suspicion otherwise.
“Tell me, Eugene. How much fun you’ve been having behind my back, throwing your own little parties.”
Lucian asked this of Eugene, who still hadn’t come back to his senses, only panting for breath. There was a teasing note of amusement in Lucian’s voice. As Lucian pressed his body close, Eugene’s limbs naturally wound around him.
“What you’ve gotten up to with this naughty body of yours. What I’ve been missing out on all this time—whisper it in my ear.”
There was no need to wait for Basil’s report tomorrow morning. The night was long. There was plenty of time to discuss and experiment with what he liked, what his tastes were, while their bodies were entwined. What better way to find out for certain than hearing and feeling it straight from the source, with no third party involved?
Lucian let out a soft laugh and tapped his own ear. He leaned over Eugene, bringing his ear close to his face, as though inviting him to whisper something ticklish, the way a bird might perch on his shoulder and sing. But no matter how long he listened, no words came. The only thing he heard was Eugene’s once-ragged breathing gradually settling into a steady rhythm.
“Eugene… Eugene Primrose?”
Sensing something was off, Lucian called Eugene’s name.
When there was no answer, Lucian gave his cheek a light tap. Wondering if he was playing some kind of joke, Lucian called out his full name again, this time in a rather sterner tone, but still there was no response. Sensing something was wrong, Lucian lifted Eugene’s arm off from around him, got out of bed, and lit a lamp.
Given that his breathing sounded steady and settled, it clearly wasn’t some kind of fatal collapse from overexertion. Not that there was anything he’d even done to warrant such a thing in the first place. Still, in case something truly was wrong, Lucian brought the lamp over to the bedside and lit the room.
“Eugene Primrose.”
He called the name again, quietly—still, there was no answer. Sensing something off, Lucian leaned in close and grasped Eugene’s chin. If this was a joke, it was an utterly unfunny one. Lucian tilted Eugene’s chin with his hand, parting his lips slightly. He was, without question, breathing properly. Just to be safe, he pressed his ear to Eugene’s chest and gave his cheek a light slap.
“Mmm…”
With a light smack, Eugene scrunched his brow and mumbled something incoherent. He shifted and squirmed for a moment, and soon the steady, peaceful sound of his breathing filled the room again. Utterly drained, Lucian set down the oil lamp and let out a hollow, disbelieving laugh. He thought he’d seen everything in life, but apparently not.
“What in the world is this supposed to be.”
Eugene Primrose was, in fact, fast asleep. Unable to believe it, Lucian checked two, three times, calling his name again to try to wake him, but Eugene only flapped a hand irritably and went right back to his slow, even breathing. And to make matters worse, his sleeping face was as lovely as an angel’s, leaving Lucian even more at a loss for words.
“Ha! Unbelievable…”
This night could only be described as humiliating. Lucian sank down heavily onto the edge of the bed. Between his spread legs, despite everything, he could see his own cock, still hard. He was startled for a moment, but his arousal hadn’t subsided in the slightest.
With a dazed expression, Lucian sat at the edge of the bed, glancing back and forth between his own lap and Eugene Primrose, who lay there on the bed without a care in the world.
Was it the alcohol? No wonder—he had downed that potent liquor in one go without hesitation. Or wait—could this be some elaborate prank? Some kind of “let him stew a little” push-and-pull tactic? Against Lucian Highwinter, of all people? If Eugene had heard even the slightest rumor about him, he wouldn’t have pulled something so foolish.
Just what kind of man was he, really? He didn’t seem like some thoughtless idiot, arrogantly relying on nothing but his looks. Bewitched as he was by the air Eugene gave off, Lucian simply couldn’t make sense of the situation. He glared down at Eugene’s sleeping face.
“Eugene!”
He raised his voice, trying to wake him, but those blue eyes hidden beneath his eyelids didn’t reappear. Lucian gripped his head in his hands.
If he simply got up and walked out right now, he could find someone to spend the night with anywhere. Tonight marked the start of the social season, and restless young people eager for some fun were scattered everywhere. Even setting that aside, finding someone to spend the night with had never been difficult for Lucian.
But he didn’t want to. Pride aside, somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, he’d apparently been looking forward to this—and now some pointless stubbornness had kicked in. He couldn’t just let it end so quietly.
He kept letting out hollow laughs, wondering since when the Highwinter Ducal Residence’s guest room had become lodging for drunken travelers. Strictly speaking, Eugene Primrose hadn’t even paid for his stay yet.
“Haah…”
Lucian let out a deep sigh. Just as he was about to storm out of the room, he suddenly came to a stop. Pausing for a moment with his hand on the doorknob, Lucian turned and walked back over to the bed. He called Eugene’s name again, trying to wake him, and even gave him a shake.
No matter what he did, Eugene showed no sign of waking, so Lucian gave in to temptation and pulled his cheeks apart slightly, just to look. He didn’t do anything else—just looked. As the rounded flesh, marked with the faint imprint of his own hand, parted, a pink hole came into view. A sudden surge of heat shot through him, and Lucian tilted his head back, swallowing down his irritation for a moment.
He had no intention of taking someone who was completely unconscious. There was nothing more boring than a partner who lay there limp and unresponsive, like a doll. But if the night had been ruined like this, surely he deserved at least some kind of visual consolation as compensation.
Eugene Primrose wouldn’t be able to say a word about any of this when he woke up tomorrow morning, anyway. What could he possibly say—he’d left Lucian Highwinter to amuse himself alone with his own hand all night. Lucian clicked his tongue and looked down at Eugene, who’d let Lucian work himself up for nothing and was now sleeping soundly without a care.
Might as well take this as a sign. Let it go and get a grip, right now.
If anything, his drunkenness had only deepened, but belatedly, the weight behind the name “Primrose” attached after “Eugene” began to register, if only a little. Sure, it was a name that would end up dragged through the dirt the moment the gold ran out, but for now, it was still the golden Primrose name. Come tomorrow morning—or perhaps even sooner, once he’d vented his raging lust and anger—he’d surely come to regret having laid a hand on someone who’d turn out to be such a headache.
Lucian’s hazel eyes drifted for a moment. Should he say the temptation of that pale, naked body in front of him right now outweighed the headaches yet to come? Or perhaps that, after being so well-behaved for so long, everyone seemed to have forgotten just what kind of trash Lucian Highwinter really was, and it was time to remind them? Despite his thoughts, his body didn’t move away so easily.
He hesitated for a moment, but the lingering want simply wouldn’t fade. Lucian crawled back up and bit down hard on Eugene’s nipple. Leaving no trace was supposed to be his principle, but this was a small act of revenge. Surprisingly, though, it worked.
“Ah, nnh…”
Eugene’s eyes flew open. His pretty face scrunched up, and his blue eyes stared straight at Lucian. The moment their eyes met, Lucian didn’t stop the motion of his hips, his expression brightening with delight.
“Eugene? Well, look who decided to wake up, right on time. Eugene…? Eugene!”
Lucian, half-undressed, was hovering over him, restraining him—but Eugene only stared at him blankly, blinked once or twice, and closed his eyes again. For a moment, it seemed like some strength had returned to Eugene’s body, but he shifted restlessly before going limp again, and Lucian tapped his cheek and called his name once more.
“…..”
“Hey! Eugene Primrose! Enough joking around, time to wake up.”
Once wasn’t enough, apparently—now twice. Lucian looked at the bright red marks his teeth had left on Eugene’s chest. He’d bitten down hard enough, genuinely, that the mark would likely last quite a while. Since it had worked once, he figured it might work again, and gave the other side the same treatment. Unfortunately, the second time didn’t work at all.
“Haah… Eugene Primrose.”
He felt like steam might start rising from the top of his head. The fact that the great Lucian Highwinter had been so thoroughly stonewalled left him fuming, and he let out a heavy sigh. What was even more irritating was that, even though he clearly ought to just leave the room now, he found it strangely difficult to pull his hands away.
The soft skin beneath his hands left him with a persistent sense of longing, and the feel of it alone was enough to put him in a good mood—so instead of pulling away, he found himself touching it again and again. It felt good enough to set aside his bruised pride, if only for a moment. And this was just the skin he could reach with his hands—how much more wonderful would the rest be, the more hidden, intimate places? Lucian licked his dry, parched lips.
“Ah, damn it.”
After much internal conflict, Lucian finally pulled his hands away from Eugene. Honestly, watching Eugene—who’d boldly come to him of his own will and thrown out the same kind of advances as everyone else—Lucian had felt a quiet disappointment, thinking, So in the end, he’s just like any other ordinary noble’s child after all. And yet, at the same time, he’d also thought, Well, fine, then—someone who chases pleasure is far more comfortable to deal with than some uptight, overly proper type, for both of us. That had been Lucian’s expectation. So what on earth was this supposed to be?
After his long journey abroad, and then being held captive by the Queen Mother’s attention ever since returning home, he’d endured an unintentionally long stretch of celibacy. As a last resort, the thought crossed his mind—why not at least use the sleeping Eugene Primrose as a visual aid and take care of himself by hand? But almost immediately, Lucian let his hands fall limp at his sides. Even just thinking about it brought on an intense wave of self-loathing.
Imagining himself rubbing himself off while admiring the bare, sleeping body of someone unconscious—it was utterly repulsive to him. No matter how pent-up he was, that simply wasn’t something the great Lucian Highwinter would do.
“Damn it. What are you even doing, Lucian. You’ve gone from looking ridiculous to absolutely rock bottom.”
Lucian muttered to himself, shoulders shaking. The more he thought about it, the more absurd it all seemed. Lucian braced a hand on the bed and moved completely off of Eugene’s body. Seeing both of Eugene’s chest marked with vivid bite marks, and his lower body left messy and soiled with his own release, only deepened Lucian’s self-loathing and irritation.
