Nikolai pressed a soft, careful kiss to the smooth line of Lucien's neck, and Lucien's whole body jolted. Every nerve seemed to ignite, hair standing on end, heart hammering in his chest as the faintest brush of lips sent a shiver through him.
Nikolai opened his mouth.
Chomp.
The sharp contact left a mark on Lucien's skin. Pain, surprise, and something unnameable flooded him, his heavy lids lifting just in time to register the sting against his neck.
To Nikolai, the act had its own effect — a surge of instinct, raw and uncontrollable, coursing through him. It was a response as natural as the air they breathed, a primal push and pull that neither could fully control.
"Ah—fuck!" Lucien groaned, the sound raw and strangled, his back arching as a pulse of tension ran through him. His knees wavered, body betraying him in ways he couldn't comprehend. His cock swelled, painfully hard against the soft fabric, his hands, once pushing Nikolai away, clenched at the other's arms as if holding on for balance.
Nikolai's hands followed, grounding Lucien against him, automatically pressing itself mesh against the other man. Just the mere touch of his lower regions grazing against Lucien brought out an involuntary guttural mewl from his throat, like wildfire set ablaze throughout his entire being.
He finally eased the bite, letting the pressure release, though his hands remained close, careful. The marks he left burned against Lucien's awareness, leaving him gasping, every nerve on fire. His mind felt slow and fragmented, yet sharpened at the edges, caught between haze and clarity.
"Even though you probably hate this…this is how our people deal with what you're feeling," Nikolai murmured softly, words brushing against Lucien's skin. He leaned closer, nuzzling the curve of Lucien's neck, inhaling the faint, fresh scent of him, steadying himself as much as the other.
"For once, just fucking accept my word for it and stop fighting against it. This is instinct," he continued, voice gentle but firm. His fingers threaded through Lucien's hair at the nape of his neck, stroking as though soothing both of them, unsure which of them needed it more. "It's only us here, Lucien… Just take deep breaths and let my scent guide you."
Lucien could barely process the words, the intensity of the moment pressing down on him like a weight. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, instincts surging as he leaned forward, jaw hovering close to Nikolai's neck as if—he didn't know what he might end up doing.
But the haze cracked, fury flooding in, and with every last shred of strength, Lucien drove his knee up between Nikolai's legs, and knees him hard.
Now, there were many hardships that Nikolai endured growing up. Many situations where injuries were the norm, some miniscule while other moments were life threatening where he teetered at Death's door. The idea of pain differed for everyone and how they reacted to it also varied. Nikolai was no different in noticing when his pain receptors activated, the impact of Lucien's knee against his beloved jewels incapacitating him temporarily. "...Ack–!" He breath caught, unable to even let out a scream, just an airy audible gasp as he dropped down to his knees, hands cupping his crotch. His body hunched over, forehead meshed against the surface of the tiled kitchen floor to prevent him from laying face first on the ground.
Breaking free, panting, stumbling back, Lucien lashed out with venom-laced words, his voice sharp despite its tremble, "You fucking crazy psycho! How dare you bite me! And you—you want me to do what? Bite you back?! What the fuck is this—some kind of twisted kink of yours?!"
The throbbing sting pulsated through every muscle in Nikolai's groin, yet it didn't do anything to the hard-on he still maintained. Rather, such an affliction did the opposite–exciting him even more.
Lucien couldn't even enjoy the sight of Nikolai doubled over, cradling his crotch like the bastard deserved. His satisfaction was fleeting anyway, drowned out by the brutal pounding of his own heart and the fire tearing through his veins. His breathing was ragged, shallow, every inhale scraping his throat, veins standing out along his neck and jaw with the strain of holding back guttural groans. It was infuriating. His chest heaved, eyes wide, his entire body trembling with pain and fury and something he refused to name as he put his hand on the bitten spot and it felt as if he had applied just a bit more force, it would bleed. "Give me my pills this instant, you bastard!"
Nikolai's frame began to shake, not one of convulsions, but trembling from his enjoyment.
The victory of breaking free was short-lived. Lucien's grip tightened against the counter, his chest clutched as if a blade had struck through his heart. His breath rattled, ragged, his flushed skin damp with sweat, body betraying him further. He doubled over slightly, groaning through gritted teeth, painfully hard and utterly undone. "God… fuck… ngh—" It looked like a man mid-heart attack, furious, broken, and still fighting to the last breath—even as his body screamed otherwise. "Get. Out. Right. Now!"
Lucien's condition kept getting worse with every passing second, and yet—yet—there was Nikolai, shaking, convulsing… and laughing. Was this maniac actually laughing?
"...Haha….Hahahahaa…" Unable to keep the giggles to himself any longer, Nikolai released fits of laughter, maniacal. "Man…I knew there was something I liked about you…"
Nikolai then lifted his head to reveal a rather sensual expression, one painted with satisfaction and pleasure. "Never a dull moment with my wonderful princess…"
Lucien's eyes widened just the faintest bit. That manic sound and those words crawled down his spine like ice, and worse than that—his expression. Why the hell did he look so… so pleased? Pleasure, satisfaction, even something close to bliss painted that perverted face, and if Lucien wasn't already flushed from fever and heat, he might've blushed from sheer indignation.
Slowly Nikolai rose back to his feet, thankful that the afflicted pain knocked some sense into his tranced state, his condition better off than that of Lucien's. He knew that he had the upper hand, physically…mentally…even his emotional state could be handled now that the other male was enveloped in his scent. Like a poor butterfly trapped in a spider's web, the silk scented with sap and honey to lure unsuspecting prey.
Predatory strides closed the distance once more, Nikolai now only a foot away from Lucien but he didn't make a move to touch the other male. Instead, he did what his body did best. Emit another round of pheromones, this time more lethal dosages–a thickening suffocating concoction meant to subdue pack members who defied their pack leader's authority.
If Lucien wanted to play a game of dominance, Nikolai was more than happy to oblige… It was his favorite game, after all.
Lucien's stomach twisted, his teeth grinding as rage battled with an unwilling flicker of something he didn't dare name. "Fuck…" he hissed under his breath, glaring coldly through the sheen of sweat glistening across his skin. The sweet, floral tang of his scent clung thick in the air, cloying, uncontrollable, spilling out in suffocating waves. He wanted to shut Nikolai up, to slice that disgusting princess comment out of his throat. But God, he had no energy left to waste on words.
Still, when the other began to prowl closer, Lucien stiffened. His first instinct was to step back, to put distance between them—but his pride was a steel rod down his spine. No. He wouldn't retreat. Not from him. He forced himself to stay rooted, even as the pressure of Nikolai's presence crawled all over him, even as his chest heaved and the world tilted with every breath.
Just what the fuck was happening to him? The bite, the scent—it was driving him insane. Something inside him wanted to claw out, to break free, and the scariest part of all was the whispering urge to sink his own teeth into that pale, perfect neck before him. "Stay the fuck away from me," Lucien seethed, lips pulled tight, his voice rougher than intended.
He wanted to scream for the man to get out, but his body was betraying him—sweat dripping down his temples, knees threatening to buckle, heat pooling low and undeniable beneath the loose cotton of his pants. And then—Nikolai stopped. He didn't touch him, didn't even lean in. But the bastard didn't need to. The floral-earth scent rolled off him, heavy and thick, pressing down on Lucien like a tidal wave.
Lucien choked.
His hands slipped from the counter, his body folding. He crashed to his knees, his teeth clenched so hard his gums bled, copper tang spilling over his lips as he fought the instinct to bare his nape, to yield. The humiliation was worse than the pain. He gasped loudly, chest heaving as sweat dripped from his chin to the tiles. Something was wrong with him—deeply, terrifyingly wrong. His body wasn't obeying, his instincts weren't familiar.
"You think you're in the position to tell me what to do, sweetheart?" He purred, tilting his head down slightly, absolutely loving the sight of Lucien's broken demeanor, soaking in those lavender grey eyes that stared at him with defiance and distaste. "Remember…you called me for help, yeah?" His wide grin flashed, sterling silver eyes peering down, the disheveled state Lucien in fueling his desire to overshadow and present who was in command here.