[BL] Oops! I Seduced My Sister's Fiance (And Now I'm Pregnant)-Chapter 39: Consummation

The room is dark when my eyes finally open.

Not the comfortable darkness of early morning, but the deep black of late evening, pale light from the curtains the only indication that the world outside still exists.

What time is it?

My phone says eight PM.

I slept through the entire afternoon and into the evening, exhaustion from the hospital visit and Bael’s revelation about Uncle Ming finally catching up with me.

My body feels heavy, sluggish, but at least the nausea that’s been my constant companion has faded for now.

I drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom.

The shower helps, hot water washing away the grogginess, the lingering tension from watching that security footage.

Someone tried to kill me.

The thought keeps circling back no matter how hard I try to push it away.

Uncle Ming orchestrated the whole thing... planted a server, tampered with the chandelier, timed it perfectly to eliminate me and the baby.

I should be terrified.

Maybe I am, underneath the strange calm I’ve been maintaining.

But death itself doesn’t scare me the way it probably should.

I’ve already died once, choked on coffee in a cubicle, woke up in this body with memories that aren’t mine and a life I never asked for.

If I die again, maybe I’ll just transmigrate somewhere else, start over in another world, another body.

The thought is almost comforting.

Except...

I’ve been through so much in this life already, more than I experienced in my twenty-eight years on Earth combined.

The scandal, the family rejection, Feifei’s devastation, the pregnancy, the marriage, all of it compressed into weeks that felt like years.

It can’t be for nothing.

I couldn’t have survived all of that just to die at the hands of some third-rate villain trying to steal an inheritance.

That would be pathetic.

I finish showering and pull on simple pajamas, loose cotton pants and a thin shirt that’s comfortable against my skin.

My hair is still damp when I pad back into the bedroom, droplets sliding down my neck.

I grab the glass of water Mrs. Wen left on the nightstand earlier and drink it down, throat dry from sleeping so long.

The estate is quiet around me, just the distant sounds of staff moving through lower floors, the hum of expensive climate control.

I should probably eat something.

The thought barely forms before there’s a knock at my door.

Then it opens immediately without waiting for an answer.

Bael stands in the doorway.

Still in his work clothes, dress shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows, top buttons undone, hair slightly mussed like he’s been running his hands through it.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

His eyes sweep over me slowly, taking in the damp hair, the thin pajamas that suddenly feel too revealing under his gaze.

"I should be asking you that." He steps inside and closes the door behind him. "What are you doing here? Why are you sleeping in a different room from your husband’s?" 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

The word *husband* makes something twist in my chest, strange and uncomfortable, but I push it down.

This is a business arrangement, nothing more.

"I’ve always slept here," I manage.

"That was before." He crosses the room in three strides, fingers catching the collar of my pajama shirt. "Things are different now."

Then he’s pulling me forward, practically dragging me toward the door.

"Wait, what are you..."

"Consummating our marriage." His voice is matter-of-fact, like he’s discussing a business transaction. "You shouldn’t run away from your responsibilities."

My face burns. "I wasn’t running..."

"Weren’t you?"

He doesn’t let me answer, just keeps pulling me down the hallway toward his room.

Our room now, apparently.

The door closes behind us with a decisive click.

His room is larger than mine, darker, everything in shades of charcoal and deep blue. The bed dominates the space, massive, four-poster, sheets that probably cost more than a car.

Bael turns to face me, and there’s something predatory in his expression that makes my pulse spike.

"We’re married now," he says, voice low. "Might as well make it official."

Then his mouth is on mine, hot and demanding, one hand fisting in my damp hair while the other grips my hip hard enough to bruise.

I kiss back without thinking, my body responding even as my brain tries to catch up.

His tongue pushes past my lips, claiming, possessive, and I can taste the faint bitterness of coffee on his breath.

When he pulls back, we’re both breathing hard.

"Lie down," he says.

It’s not a request.

I sit on the edge of the bed, then shift back until I’m lying against the pillows, heart hammering against my ribs.

Bael follows me down, settling his weight over me, knees bracketing my hips.

His hands go to my shirt, unbuttoning it slowly, deliberately, eyes locked on mine the whole time.

Cool air hits my skin as he pushes the fabric aside, exposing my chest.

His gaze drops to my nipples and I fight the urge to cover myself.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, almost to himself.

Then his mouth is on me, tongue circling one nipple before he sucks it into his mouth.

The sensation shoots straight through me, pleasure mixed with something sharper, and I can’t stop the sound that escapes my throat.

He pulls back just enough to speak against my skin. "Sensitive."

"Shut up."

His laugh vibrates through me. "Make me."

I reach up to pull him into another kiss but he catches my wrists, pins them above my head with one hand.

"Not yet," he says. "I’m not done."

His free hand trails down my stomach, fingers tracing the slight curve there that’s barely visible.

"The baby’s growing," he observes.

"Yeah," I breathe.

"Good." His hand keeps moving lower, slipping under the waistband of my pajama pants. "Now stop talking and let me take care of you."

He pulls my pants and underwear down in one smooth motion, tossing them aside.

I’m completely exposed now, naked under his gaze, and the vulnerability of it makes my face burn.

But Bael doesn’t look away, just keeps staring like he’s memorizing every detail.

"Perfect," he says quietly.

Then his hand wraps around my cock and I gasp at the sudden contact.

He strokes slowly, deliberately, thumb circling the head until I’m leaking pre-come and squirming against the sheets.

A broken sound escapes my throat.

"That’s it." His voice is rough now, control slipping. "We’re taking this slow."

Slow is torture.

His hand keeps moving, building pleasure in steady waves until I’m panting and my hips are lifting off the bed trying to get more friction.

Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he lets go.

I make a sound of protest but he’s already moving, settling between my legs, pushing my thighs wider.

"Already wet," he observes, fingers sliding through the slick there. "Your body knows exactly what it wants."

I don’t have a response to that because he’s pushing one finger inside me and my brain short-circuits.

The stretch feels good, better than it should, and when he adds a second finger I’m already pressing back against his hand.

"That’s it," he murmurs, working me open with methodical patience. "Just like that."

He finds that spot inside me and my back arches off the bed, a broken sound tearing from my throat.

"Found it." Satisfaction colors his voice. "Let’s see how many times I can make you fall apart tonight."

His fingers are still moving, hitting that spot with devastating precision.

"Wait—" I gasp.

"Shh." He leans down to kiss me, fingers still moving inside me. "Doctor said no strenuous exercise. So I’ll do all the work. You just lie there and take it."

He pulls his fingers out and I hear the sound of his belt, the rasp of his zipper.

Then he’s positioning himself, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance.

"Relax," he murmurs against my ear.

He pushes in slowly, so slowly, letting me feel every inch as he fills me.

The stretch burns despite the preparation, despite how wet I am, but underneath the discomfort is pleasure that makes my toes curl.

When he’s fully seated, buried as deep as he can go, we both freeze.

"Fuck," Bael breathes. "Always so tight."

I can’t speak, can only grip his shoulders and try to adjust to the overwhelming fullness.

He starts moving, slow deep thrusts that hit that spot inside me with devastating precision.

Each slide of his cock sends pleasure spiraling through me, building higher and higher until I’m moaning with every breath.

"That’s it," he murmurs, lips against my neck. "Let me hear you."

His hand wraps around my cock again, stroking in time with his thrusts.

The dual stimulation is too much, pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

"I’m..." I can’t finish the sentence.

"Go ahead," he says against my ear. "Come for me."

I do, spilling over his hand with a broken cry, my body clenching around him.

He doesn’t stop, just keeps thrusting through my orgasm until I’m oversensitive and squirming.

His pace increases slightly, still controlled but relentless, his hand works my cock back to hardness despite the oversensitivity, and the pleasure builds again, sharper this time, almost painful.

When I come the second time, everything whites out behind my eyelids.

Bael finally lets himself go, thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release.

I feel his knot starting to swell, pressing against my rim, and then he’s pushing it inside with one final thrust.

The stretch is intense, overwhelming, but before I can process it he’s coming, heat flooding my body as his knot swells fully, locking us together.

"Mine," he breathes against my hair.

The exhaustion hits me like a wave.

Between the orgasms and the emotional weight of everything today, my body just gives up.

My eyes are already closing even as Bael’s knot pulses inside me, still swollen and keeping us connected.

"Runze?" His voice sounds distant.

"Mmm."

"Alright, you sleep." Fingers brush my damp hair back from my forehead.

The last thing I feel before darkness takes me is Bael’s knot starting to deflate, his arms wrapping around me, holding me secure.

For now, at least, I can rest.