Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)

Gabriel sat up, his back arching as he lifted himself slightly before sinking back down onto Damian's cock with a wet slap. The sound was obscene, echoing in the room alongside their mingled moans. Damian's hands moved to grip Gabriel's thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as if trying to anchor himself against the overwhelming pleasure.

Gabriel moved faster now, his body finding a rhythm that had them both gasping for air. Each thrust sent sparks of ecstasy shooting through him, his own arousal building with every slam of his hips. He could feel Damian's knot pressing against his entrance, the thick base of it stretching him deliciously with every downward stroke.

"Fuck, Gabriel," Damian growled, his voice rough and strained. His hands slid up Gabriel's thighs to his waist, holding him firmly as he began to thrust up into him, meeting each of Gabriel's movements with equal force. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound lost in the symphony of their moans and the wet slosh of their bodies moving together.

Gabriel's head fell back, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode Damian with a wild abandon that left them both teetering on the edge. He could feel the heat building inside him, his body tightening around Damian's cock as pleasure coiled in his belly. And then, with a sharp cry, Gabriel came, his body shuddering as waves of ecstasy crashed over him.

Damian wasn't far behind. With a low growl, he slammed up into Gabriel one last time, his knot swelling to its full size and locking them together once more. Hot cum flooded Gabriel's insides, each pulse of Damian's cock sending another wave of white-hot pleasure through him. Gabriel whimpered, oversensitive and overwhelmed, but unable to pull away.

Gabriel only leaned forward, the tips of his fingers brushing Damian's jaw before trailing down his throat. His gaze was dark, sharp, and steady, assessing, deciding. "You're mine," he said, voice low enough to be dangerous.

Damian's pulse jumped under his touch, and the answering growl was immediate, deep in his chest. He had heard those words before, but never like this, never as a promise about to be sealed.

Gabriel's mouth lowered to the curve of his shoulder, the heat of his breath skimming over skin that was already hypersensitive from rut. He lingered there, letting Damian feel the intention before he acted, the unspoken 'I am going to do this' hanging between them like a drawn blade.

And then, slow and certain, Gabriel bit down.

It wasn't hesitant or soft, it was a claiming, teeth sinking into the place where dominant omegas were almost never marked, because an alpha's mark was supposed to be enough. But Gabriel was almost never. He was Gabriel.

The bond flared violently, heat and possession flooding it until Damian's control shattered entirely. His head tipped back, eyes half-closed and molten, every muscle straining against the overwhelming rush that ripped through him. He could feel it, Gabriel's scent weaving into his own, twining through the part of the bond only a mark could reach.

When Gabriel finally drew back, the mark was there, a red wound impossible to mistake. Damian's breathing was ragged, his expression caught somewhere between reverence and hunger.

"Mine," Gabriel repeated, quieter now, but no less certain.

Damian's lips curved into something dangerous, and for a moment he simply looked at his mate as though the rest of the Empire could burn and he wouldn't notice.

Then, voice low and full of promise, he murmured…

"Do it again."

Gabriel's brows lifted, the faintest flicker of surprise breaking through his satisfaction, but it didn't last. The corner of his mouth curled into something slow and knowing, like a predator humoring a challenge it already knew it would win.

His hand slid into Damian's hair, fingers threading through the dark strands until his grip was firm. He just held him there, close enough for the bond to hum in both their chests like a taut string ready to snap.

"You think you can take it twice?" Gabriel asked softly, his tone all wicked amusement and sharp edges.

Damian's golden eyes gleamed. "I can take whatever you give me."

That earned him a low, quiet laugh, one that sank straight into the space between them and curled tight. Gabriel leaned in again, his breath hot against Damian's skin, brushing over the first mark with deliberate slowness. His tongue traced the edges once, almost soothing, before his teeth sank in again, deeper this time.

The bond reacted instantly. The flare of heat was so intense it felt like a second heartbeat had lodged between them, thrumming in Damian's veins until every thought narrowed to the feel of his mate claiming him again.

Damian's hands tightened on Gabriel's waist, not to stop him, but to hold him there, as if letting go now would be unthinkable. His breath came hard, almost unsteady, but the look he gave Gabriel when their eyes met was nothing short of worship wrapped in hunger.

When Gabriel finally pulled back, he didn't bother wiping the blood from his lips. He let Damian see it. Let him feel it through the bond.

"Twice," Gabriel murmured, voice low and dangerous. "Just so you remember."

Damian's smirk was slow and sharp, his voice rumbling from somewhere deep. "I'll remember."

Gabriel had thought it would end there, that the sharp, possessive current between them would burn itself out once they'd both been marked, once Damian had taken him hard enough to satisfy the knotting instinct and whatever primal urge had been prowling behind those golden eyes.

He was wrong.

Two days wrong.

The rut didn't break; if anything, his double mark seemed to have poured oil over the fire. Every time Gabriel thought Damian might be sated, body lax, breath slowing, scent evening out, those same hands would close around his hips again, dragging him back under with a low growl that promised nothing short of ruin.

By the second dawn, Gabriel had stopped trying to count how many times Damian had taken him. His body ached in places he didn't usually let ache, the kind of deep, lingering soreness that spoke of hours lost to the dark warmth of the Emperor's bed. And yet, there was something in Damian's voice each time he murmured "mine", low, raw, and worn from overuse, that made Gabriel's mouth curve, even as he considered whether he had been a fool to ever provoke him that first night.

Almost a fool. Almost a regret. But not quite.

Because every time the thought brushed close, Damian's mouth would find his again, heat curling low in Gabriel's belly, and he'd remember exactly why he had done it, why he would do it again, even knowing it might mean another two days of being pressed into the mattress with no escape but the one they both liked too much to take.