#54
“Enough, you all can leave now.”
Enrique cut off the conversation and dismissed his friends.
“What?! Isn’t that too harsh? Kicking out your friends just because your fiancé arrived! Was our friendship a lie?”
Kisha shook her head, refusing to leave while clinging to the sofa armrest. Julian looked at her with exasperation, then grabbed her arm to pull her up.
“Come on. Let’s go. We can talk more outside.”
As Julian dragged her out, Kisha trudged along with a sullen face. Even then, she didn’t forget to instruct the nanny to take care of the child.
“You better tell us what happened later!”
Kisha managed to add one last comment as she left the reception room. Enrique waved his hand, urging them to close the door quickly.
Once his friends had disappeared, they were finally alone in the reception room. Anture, as if he had been waiting for this moment, shifted closer until their bodies were touching. He took Enrique’s hand, carefully intertwining their fingers and holding tight. The feeling of those large, beautiful hands that Kisha had praised completely enveloping his own wasn’t unpleasant. No, far from it—it felt rather comforting.
“You must have a lot to discuss with the delegation. Why did you come here?”
“What could be more important in this world than seeing you?”
Anture spoke words as sweet as honey while lowering his head to bury his nose in Enrique’s neck. As he pressed his nose against the skin, inhaling deeply, Enrique’s body involuntarily shrank from the sensation of his breath.
“What are you doing, are you a dog? It tickles.”
Enrique tried to push Anture’s head away with his free hand, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he inhaled even more deeply, persistently indulging in Enrique’s scent.
After repeatedly inhaling the scent of his neck, Anture’s breath seemed to grow a bit hotter. He moved up slightly from the neck to Enrique’s ear and whispered.
“Enrique, you smell sweet. Could it be that your heat is approaching?”
His whispered voice was full of warmth and anticipation. Perhaps because he had decided to lower his emotional barriers, Anture’s warmth seemed to instantly ignite Enrique’s heart.
“Let me install a cord in your bedroom that I can pull to call you immediately. So I can rush to you as soon as you tug it. Okay?”
Anture pleaded while nuzzling Enrique’s neck and ear. Enrique pushed against Anture’s chest.
“What cord? Are you my bedwarmer or night servant? Why would we need a cord?”
Enrique scolded, but it seemed to have no effect at all. Anture pressed even closer, chuckling softly.
“Your night servant? That sounds so erotic. I really want to do that. When your body heats up, you’ll pull the cord, and as soon as I receive the signal, I’ll rush to your bedroom to stir up your heated body and cool you down.”
Enrique couldn’t help but laugh at Anture’s willingness to be treated as a night servant.
“Can I install the cord? I promise I’ll just hold your hand when I sleep.”
Anture persistently begged. He seemed strangely fixated on the cord idea.
“Do whatever you want.”
Enrique grumbled as if annoyed. Anture’s dark eyes sparkled in response.
After finishing his work, bathing, and changing into his nightclothes, Enrique lay down on the bed. As he was lying there thinking about tomorrow’s tasks, something unfamiliar caught his eye. Turning his head slightly, he saw a thick golden cord hanging near the head of the bed, right next to the cord used to call servants. It occupied the place where the cord to call Damiel, who had now left, used to be.
“…What’s that?”
Enrique asked Pol, who was extinguishing the candles one by one for the final cleanup. Pol’s eyes briefly flickered to the golden cord before turning to Enrique.
“It’s a cord connected to the Ruben Prince’s bedroom, Your Highness.”
“What?”
“The Prince said you had given permission to install it and ordered its placement… Was that not the case?”
Pol’s question was cautious. Enrique frowned as he glared at the golden cord. The unusually thick cord gleamed brightly, asserting its presence.
“Your Highness?”
Pol called out. Enrique let out a soft sigh and waved his hand dismissively. It was a signal to leave. Pol extinguished the last remaining candle, bowed, and withdrew from the bedroom. Enrique lay back down on the bed, trying to resume his thoughts about tomorrow’s schedule while staring at the ceiling.
“…What a useless thing.”
Enrique eventually clicked his tongue and muttered with a sigh. The golden cord dangling at the edge of his vision while lying down continued to bother him. Even without looking, he could clearly picture it in his mind. Anture was probably eagerly waiting for the bell connected to the cord at the head of his bed to ring.
It was pathetic that a prince of the Ruben Empire would engage in such secretive night servant play. But the problem was that it felt strangely cute. To think that the actions of this fully grown man would appear cute. It occurred to Enrique that this might be what they call love-blindness.
“Just try pulling it.”
Enrique turned over to face away from the hanging cord. He closed his eyes, but the tickling sensation at his back was distracting. Thinking of Anture staring intently at the bell made him want to laugh. Enrique firmly resolved not to pull the cord. He felt a sense of crisis, believing that if he started getting caught up in Anture’s pace now, he would be endlessly swept along.
He tried to recall tomorrow’s schedule with his eyes closed, but the itching sensation at his back wouldn’t go away. Eventually, his thoughts drifted in one direction.
If he didn’t pull it tonight, what kind of expression would Anture have when he came tomorrow?
Would he come with a dejected face, or pretend to be upset? Or maybe he’d pretend to be angry?
No. Given what he’d seen of Anture so far, he might cling to him again and act spoiled.
‘Enrique, you smell sweet. Could it be that your heat is approaching?’
He recalled what Anture had said earlier while pestering him.
Enrique wished his heat would start right now. Then there would be no hesitation in pulling that cord.
“We’re getting married soon anyway.”
Enrique muttered through gritted teeth, trying hard to suppress the urge to pull the cord. Yet at the same time, he wondered why he had to resist the desire to pull it. They were going to be married soon. There was nothing to hold them back from spending the night together.
Enrique tossed and turned for a long time. Thoughts of tomorrow’s schedule had long since fled his mind. The only thing occupying his thoughts was whether to pull the cord or not. He found himself endlessly pathetic for this, yet he couldn’t shake the thought.
Enrique lay on his side, staring at the golden cord hanging down temptingly. After glaring at it for a while, he suddenly muttered:
“Right. We’re getting married soon…”
Soon after the wedding, their bedrooms would be connected by a single door. There would be no need to call each other by pulling a cord or sending a servant, or to sneak into each other’s rooms secretly. So it seemed alright to use that cord at least once before the wedding.
Enrique knew this was self-justification. But well, what harm could come from pulling it?
Slowly raising his upper body, Enrique gently pulled the unusually thick and long golden cord. The moment he pulled it, he felt a slight regret, but it was too late to take it back.
Now that he had actually done it, a slight tension began to rise. Thoughts flashed through his mind: had he cleaned his body thoroughly before bed, was the bed clean, and so on. He felt like a man who had purified himself and was waiting for his lover. Well, that was actually the case.
After sitting on the bed for a moment, Enrique suddenly lay back down, thinking it might look too eager to wait for the other person. He pulled the sheet up to his shoulders and closed his eyes. But then he realized that pretending to be asleep was also ridiculous. He had no idea how to appear less awkward.
Enrique suddenly let out a laugh. He was amazed at how childishly he was acting. This wasn’t his first time having sex, nor was it his first time with Anture. There was no reason to be so restless.
Just then, the bedroom door suddenly opened, and candlelight streamed in. Enrique thought it would be silly to sit up abruptly to greet him, so he just lay still, covered by the sheet.
The door closed again, and the light disappeared.
Thud. Thud.
The man approached the bed with slow steps. With each step he took closer, Enrique felt the increasingly intense pheromones. It was both his own pheromones and those of the other person.
As he sensed Anture’s pheromones, his heart began to beat faster. Heat slowly rose within him, as if a bonfire had been lit inside his body.
Anture lifted the edge of the sheet and slipped under it. He lay down behind Enrique, who was turned away, and stretched out his arm to pull him into his embrace.
“I’m so happy you called for me, Enrique.”
Anture whispered. His voice was truly filled with joy and warmth.
“I pulled it once because I thought you might wait all night. It’s just this once, so don’t expect it again.”
Enrique said in a somewhat gruff voice. But Anture was already busy pressing his lips to the back of Enrique’s neck and sliding his strong hand under the thin nightclothes.
