Chapter 110: Three Hours

Chapter 110: Chapter 110: Three Hours

By the time Sebastian and Nero returned to their private rooms, they had almost three hours before Lucas and Trevor were expected.

Three hours, Sebastian discovered, was apparently far too much unsupervised time to give Nero after the previous night.

The door to the private suite had barely closed behind them when Nero’s hand settled at Sebastian’s waist, drawing him backward until his shoulders met a broad chest and a familiar mouth found the side of his neck.

Sebastian stopped walking.

"Nero."

A kiss landed beneath his ear.

"I haven’t done anything."

"You have been inside this room for approximately four seconds."

"Exactly. My record is currently excellent."

Sebastian could feel the smile against his skin.

The Crown Prince had spent the entire morning behaving reasonably well by Nero’s standards, which meant he had confined himself to unnecessary touching, occasional kisses, and several looks across rooms that Sebastian had deliberately ignored because their families were present.

Apparently Nero believed returning to the privacy of their suite ended the requirement.

His hands moved around Sebastian’s waist, spreading over his stomach while he nuzzled into the side of his throat.

Sebastian sighed.

"You have plans."

"I always have plans."

"For the next three hours."

Nero’s mouth moved lower.

"Several."

There was enough satisfaction in his voice that Sebastian could identify the general category without asking.

He turned within Nero’s arms and immediately placed one hand flat against his chest.

"No."

Nero looked down at the hand between them.

Then at Sebastian.

"My moon."

"Absolutely not."

"I haven’t proposed anything yet."

"You followed me through two corridors looking at my ass."

"I admire many aspects of you."

"You are currently trying to walk me backward toward the bedroom."

Nero glanced over Sebastian’s shoulder as though only now noticing the direction in which they had been moving.

"Coincidence."

Sebastian laughed despite himself, then pressed more firmly against his chest when Nero attempted another step.

"Stop."

This time Nero did.

Immediately.

Sebastian appreciated that for approximately one second before violet eyes dropped to his mouth and the calculation visibly changed from bed to something I can accomplish while standing.

"Nero."

"I stopped."

"Your body did. Your mind absolutely did not."

"My mind is private."

"Your mind is practically projecting."

Nero smiled.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at him.

The problem was that he understood.

Last night had apparently removed whatever final restraint Nero had been maintaining around the physical part of their relationship, and now the man who had spent seven years imagining Sebastian had discovered that reality was available in the room beside him.

That did not mean Sebastian’s body intended to cooperate twice within twelve hours.

He had made the mistake of forgetting the scale involved once.

He would not repeat it.

Sebastian moved his hand lower over Nero’s chest until his palm rested against his sternum and looked up at him with complete seriousness.

"I am sore."

The amusement in Nero’s expression softened.

"How sore?"

"Enough."

Concern replaced desire quickly enough that Sebastian nearly smiled.

Nero’s hands shifted from his waist to his hips, gentler now.

"Your back too?"

"A little."

"Anything sharp?"

"No. Just muscle soreness and..." Sebastian paused.

Nero waited.

Sebastian looked down between them.

Then slowly back up.

Understanding arrived.

And, unfortunately, so did satisfaction.

Sebastian pointed a finger directly at him.

"Do not look pleased."

"I’m concerned."

"You are concerned and pleased."

"Both can coexist."

Sebastian stared at him.

Nero’s mouth twitched.

"That weapon," Sebastian said, gesturing vaguely downward, "is proportionate to the rest of you in a way I should have considered before last night."

Nero went very still.

Then visibly delighted.

Sebastian immediately regretted giving him language he could treasure.

"My moon—"

"No."

"You called it—"

"I know what I called it."

"A weapon?"

Sebastian covered Nero’s mouth with his hand.

"Do not make me repeat it."

Nero kissed the center of his palm.

Sebastian pulled his hand away.

"I am not taking that twice in less than a day because you woke up enthusiastic."

Nero’s eyebrows rose.

Sebastian realized the sentence could have been phrased more safely.

Too late.

The grin appeared.

Sebastian closed his eyes.

"God."

"You are making this considerably more difficult for me."

"I am explaining why nothing is happening."

"You are doing it badly."

Sebastian opened his eyes again.

Nero leaned closer, but instead of trying to kiss him, he rested his forehead against Sebastian’s.

"We are calling Roberta."

"Nero, I’m ignoring her and Claude from last night."

Nero’s expression sharpened immediately.

"You were ignoring the medical team?"

"They sent messages. I was occupied."

The satisfaction trying to appear on Nero’s face lasted only until he understood what Sebastian did.

"Medical suite. Now, before I become unbearable."

—

Forty minutes later, Sebastian sat on the examination table in the small medical room attached to Nero’s private wing, jacket folded beside him while Claude reviewed the scans and Roberta stood over a tablet displaying several colored graphs.

Nero remained close enough that one hand rested on Sebastian’s thigh.

Roberta enlarged one of the graphs.

"Well."

Sebastian disliked that particular tone from physicians. "Well, what?"

"Your dominant-omega markers increased considerably overnight."

Nero straightened.

Sebastian looked at the screen, though the numbers meant little to him. "In a bad way?"

"The opposite." Roberta swiped through the previous readings. "We’ve been watching these values rise slowly for months, but this is the clearest coordinated progression we’ve recorded. Hormonal activity, glandular conversion, receptor response—they all moved in the same direction without destabilizing your former alpha profile."

Claude stepped beside her. "And no berserk markers."

"None." Roberta looked between them. "Your body liked whatever happened last night."

Silence filled the room.

Sebastian slowly turned toward Nero.

The bastard looked radiant.

"Say one word, and I’ll throw you out of the room."

Roberta’s mouth twitched before she returned to the tablet. "To be clear, I am not prescribing sex twice daily."

Nero’s disappointment was immediate enough that Claude laughed.

"I am," Roberta continued, "telling you not to become frightened by this development and suddenly start avoiding physical intimacy. Nero’s pheromones have been driving the transition from the beginning, and yesterday introduced a much stronger combination of sustained contact, sexual response, emotional attachment, and enigma exposure. Your body responded extremely well."

Nero’s thumb moved slowly over Sebastian’s knee.

"So we keep going."

"Yes."

Sebastian stared at Roberta.

She raised an eyebrow. "Within reason."

Nero smiled.

"That qualification was aimed entirely at you," Sebastian said.

"I gathered."

Claude moved behind Sebastian and pressed carefully along his lower back. "The soreness is muscular. Nothing concerning, but give yourself time to recover."

"And," Roberta added, pointing at Nero with the tablet, "healthy progression does not mean you should attempt to produce another dramatic data set this afternoon."

Sebastian laughed.

Nero looked genuinely offended. "Everyone assumes the worst of me."

"Experience," Roberta said.

She handed Sebastian his updated report.

"Keep doing what you’re doing. Stay close, maintain normal pheromonal contact, intimacy whenever Sebastian actually wants it, and report anything unusual. From a transition standpoint, this is very good news."

Sebastian looked down at the results.

For once, his body changing had produced a medical team that looked pleased rather than worried.

Nero leaned closer and kissed his temple.

Sebastian immediately felt the smile against his skin.

"Do not interpret this creatively."

"My moon, the physician literally told me to keep going."

Sebastian groaned.

Roberta had created a monster.