(NIGHT AT ROYAL HALL)
The chandeliers above burned with a blinding brilliance, glittering across the opulence of the ballroom, but everything around Raphael blurred—fading into a haze of sound and movement he couldn't hold onto. Something was wrong.
His hands trembled as he lifted a champagne flute to his lips. It slipped from his fingers, shattering near his feet.
"Raphael?" someone called distantly, but their voice warped like it came from underwater.
His engagement party. That much he knew. His body, dressed in tight silk—corseted cruelly around his waist, sheer sleeves clinging to his flushed skin—felt both heavy and unbearably light. The cold stone floor beneath his heels was the only anchor as his legs buckled slightly.
His vision pulsed, everything glowing and warped, and then—
Eyes blurry as he tried to find a spot to hide,
He saw him.
Xavier Rhéon Valerian .
His stepbrother and his enemy.
Far away, near a column, standing beside one of his guards, a vision of intimidation and cold command. The heavy black military coat on his shoulders gleamed with badges and medals, epaulettes like thorns, shoulders broad enough to cast shadows on lesser men. His black gloves tucked beneath his arm, hands clasped behind his back like a king.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
Raphael's breath hitched. A thousand reasons flashed through his mind to call out to him. But he didn't. Couldn't. His pride wrapped around his throat like a chain.
Instead, he stood frozen—until he noticed the two guards on the opposite side of the ballroom watching him.
No—leering at him.
Their eyes slid over his thighs, his narrow waist, the sinful way the fabric clung to his ass. His skin crawled under their gaze. Their intentions were loud. Disgusting. Filthy.
Still, Raphael didn't move.
But Xavier did.
The moment his cold eyes met Raphael's across the hall, the noise of the party fell away. A war ignited silently between their locked gazes. Xavier's icy expression didn't waver, nor did Raphael's both are looking at each other like want to ruin the other one, but something flickered in the sharpness of Xavier gaze. His eyes dipped—he saw the tremble in Raphael's knees, the way his thighs clenched tight, his mouth open and wet with desperate, drugged need.
He mumbles' "Drug's? Fuck"
And then—Xavier's jaw tightened.
Without another word, he dismissed his guard with a cold nod and began walking through the crowd. Every step deliberate. Regal. Predatory.
He reached Raphael like a storm cloud, towering above him. Even in Raphael's heels, Xavier felt like a mountain—broad chest, hard jaw, arms that could crush him, or worse, hold him down.
"Why are you standing here like a drowned kitten?" Xavier asked, voice low and clipped, sharp enough to cut.
Raphael blinked, forcing himself upright, despite the buckling of his knees.
"Why don't you crawl back to your shadowy corners, General," Raphael spat back, lips curling. "This isn't your war."
Xavier's cold gaze flicked to the two guards still watching. His voice dropped into steel. "What are you doing here? Out."
The men scrambled, vanishing into the shadows.
Then, without asking, Xavier dropped his coat over Raphael's bare shoulders—warm, heavy, smelling of cedar, smoke, and power. Raphael flinched beneath it.
"You look like bait," Xavier growled. "Tight dress, flushed face, trembling legs. Are you drugged?"
"I'm not—" Raphael began, but Xavier didn't let him finish. He gripped his wrist, pulling him away from the crowd and down the corridor.
He shoved open the first room he found and threw Raphael inside. The door slammed shut behind them. Then, a glass of water crashed at Raphael's feet, shattering like the last of his control.
"Drink. Sober the fuck up," Xavier ordered.
"I'm not drunk," Raphael whispered, voice cracking. "It's not alcohol—"
He couldn't finish.
His body betrayed him. His thighs were wet. The drug was pooling between his legs, slick and shameful. His cock ached, leaking. His chest heaved.
Xavier turned to leave, jaw clenched—but a knock interrupted them.
"The King summons you, Commander."
"I'm coming," Xavier snapped.
But just as he reached for the doorknob, Raphael gripped his wrist and yanked him backward—hard.
He shoved Xavier down onto the bed and climbed on top, straddling him, pressing his soaked heat against Xavier's clothed cock with a desperate grind.
Xavier froze.
"What the fuck— Why are you acting like a whore ?" he shout in cold voice
"Yeah, brother," Raphael panted, eyes glassy and cruel. "Your little whore now. So shut the fuck up and do something."
The words snapped something deep inside Xavier. "You're filthy—"
But his hands already gripped Raphael's hips.
Raphael moaned, rubbing harder, dragging his ass over the bulge under Xavier's pants, soaking through fabric. Their breaths came hot, ragged, chaotic.
Xavier tried to control himself.
But then,
Raphael leaned down, mouth brushing Xavier's throat—and then bit his Adam's apple, sharp and possessive.
Xavier growled, flipping them in a single motion.
He hovered over Raphael now, tearing open the front of the silken outfit, exposing flushed skin, hardened nipples, red cheeks. His mouth latched onto Raphael and begin to suck his throat, sucking brutal hickeys as his hands pried Raphael's legs apart.
"Do you even know what the fuck you're doing?"Xavier hissed.
" I hate you,"Raphael spat.
"Then why do you need my cock to satisfy your little hole?"
Xavier's fingers found his entrance—wet, pulsing, needy. He slid two fingers inside with terrifying ease.
"Dripping like a virgin bitch in heat," he growled.
Raphael only moaned harder, scratching down Xavier's back with his nails, blood mixing with sweat.
When Xavier finally freed his cock and pressed it to Raphael's entrance, he paused.
"Tell me," he ordered, voice rough. "Say it. Give me your fucking consent."
Raphael's eyes locked with his. "Do it. Ruin me, dear brother."
The first thrust was brutal.
Raphael screamed. Blood coated Xavier's cock as realization hit—he was untouched. A virgin.
Xavier froze, horrified.
"Shit—Raphael—"
"Don't you fucking stop," Raphael snarled, wrapping his legs around Xavier, dragging him deeper. "I swear I'll gut you if you leave me like this."
Xavier cursed under his breath, but his body betrayed him—he began to move.
Hard. Deep. Punishing.
Each thrust dragged curses and moans from Raphael's lips, alternating between calling him "Xavier" and "brother," maddeningly sweet and sick.
Between each thrust of Xavier, Raphael continuestly chant the words Xavier hate the most.
"I hate you—I hate you," Raphael cried again and again, nails raking over Xavier's shoulders.
"Then hate me on my cock," Xavier grunted, thrusting deeper, faster, mind unraveling.
The room filled with sweat, musk, and the sound of skin slapping.
Xavier devoured him.
Bit him.
Fucked him until the bed shook, until Raphael was begging and sobbing and still cursing his name.
And when they both broke, coming hard—Xavier buried inside him, Raphael milking him like he never wanted to let go—Xavier's final words were a rasp against Raphael's ear:
"If you hate me that much, little prince… then why are you dripping on my cock?"
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TO BE CONTINUED.....
Author's Note: Do you like the first chapter?
Sit tight, it will be a ride full of emotion's and obsession between two brothers!!!