Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 219: Always

The cabin is quiet, save for the gentle chirping of birds outside and the occasional creak of wood settling in the early morning. The scent of rain from the night before lingers in the air, mixing with something deeper—something unmistakably us. The remnants of our time together. Sweat, desire, heat, Thorne.

I sigh, stretching my aching limbs as I pour myself a glass of water. My throat is dry, my body exhausted, and I can barely feel my legs. Even standing here in the kitchen feels like an accomplishment.

The morning is quiet, almost peaceful, but my body hums with an ache that’s impossible to ignore.I don’t even know how long it’s been.

I take a slow sip of water, trying not to focus on the dull incredible soreness that pulses through me, a constant reminder of the past few days. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Thorne’s voice breaks the silence, raspy and amused.

"I can’t get hard anymore."

I almost choke on my water. Glancing up, I find my husband standing in the doorway, he’s shirtless, his damp hair still clinging to his forehead, drops of water trailing down the ridges of his torso. He must have just bathed, though the way he leans lazily against the doorway, arms crossed, his pants hanging dangerously low on his hips, tells me he’s been watching me for a while.

My heart stutters.He’s so handsome it’s unfair.

"I know," I sigh dramatically, resting my forehead on the rim of the cup before taking another sip. "I can barely feel my lower half."

Thorne chuckles, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Gods, he’s beautiful. The smile on his lips is fond, satisfied, lazy, like a man completely at ease after days of thorough indulgence.

"I never thought I’d say this," he admits, grinning. "But I think we’ve had too much sex."

I stare at him, half in disbelief, half in amusement. Then, I laugh—soft, breathless, genuine.

"Never thought I’d see the day," I say, shaking my head.

He chuckles, but his eyes don’t leave me.I shift under his gaze, suddenly hyper-aware of how his shirt barely covers me, how the sleeves slip off my shoulders, how the cool air kisses my bare thighs.

Thorne’s eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches me struggle with my embarrassment. I try to look anywhere else, but my gaze betrays me, trailing down the line of his body, following a single stray droplet of water as it trickles down his chest, past his toned stomach, lower—

I snap my eyes away, heat creeping up my neck.

Stop. Noelle, stop.

Thorne must have noticed, because he suddenly smirks, that familiar, dangerous, cocky smirk that always spells trouble for me.

"Enjoying the view?" he teases.

I glare at him immediately. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

He gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe me.

"We should probably leave," I say after a few seconds, but my voice lacks conviction.

"Yeah," Thorne agrees, yet neither of us moves.

We just stand there, staring at each other, the air between us thick with something heavy, unspoken.Seconds stretch into minutes, but neither of us takes a step toward the door.

Thorne’s blue eyes glint with something dark and unreadable, trailing from my flushed face to my neck, lingering where his mark burns faintly against my skin. The moment his gaze lands on it, the sensation flares, like embers being rekindled into fire.

I suppress a shiver, but I know he notices. He always notices.

His fingers twitch against his arms, his stance predatory, possessive.

"We should get going," he says at last, his voice rough. "Mimi misses her parents. We’ve been gone too long."

He’s right. We have been gone too long. We should be home already. But despite knowing that, I still don’t move.

Because I can’t. Because suddenly, leaving feels impossible.

My body is too aware of the heat in his gaze, of the way my own longing coils in my stomach, tightening, demanding. It’s absurd—after days of nothing but him, of having him so deeply I lost myself, I should be satisfied.

But I’m not. I don’t think I will ever be satisfied.

"Yeah," I murmur, swallowing hard. "I miss her too."

My words are the truth. I do miss Mimi. I miss her more than I can describe.But right now, with my husband so close, so warm, so Thorne, my body betrays me.

A moment of hesitation.A flicker of something raw and insatiable in his eyes.

I don’t even think.

"One more time?" I whisper.

The words barely leave my lips before I see something snap inside Thorne. His pupils dilate, his jaw tenses, and for a split second, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake.

Then—

"Yes. Please. Yes. Yes. I thought—"

He doesn’t even finish before I launch myself at him.

Thorne catches me effortlessly, hands gripping my thighs as my legs wrap around him.

His arms are strong, unyielding, the way he holds me making me feel like I’m something precious, something sacred, something he would never let go.

"-You wouldn’t ask," he breathes against my lips.

And then he kisses me, more like devours my soul.It’s frantic, hungry, consuming.

You wouldn’t think we just spent days doing this, not with how wildly we go at it, like it’s our first time, like it’s been years since we last held each other.

Thorne slams me against the wall, and I gasp against his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging, desperate.

I barely have time to register the rough press of the wall against my back before Thorne’s mouth is on mine, urgent, unrelenting. His hands grip my thighs tightly, holding me in place as though I might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly. I moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed between us, lost in the frantic rhythm of our desperation.

There’s a vague sound of fabric tearing—his hands must have ripped away whatever remained of my clothing, but I don’t have the mind to care. His body is so close, burning hot against mine, and then I feel him—his blunt tip pressing against my entrance, already thick and impossibly hard.

Before I can beg, before I can plead, he thrusts in. A sharp gasp rips from my throat, my back arching against the wall as he fills me in one swift, brutal motion. It’s too much. It’s everything. The stretch is familiar, overwhelming, devastating in the way only he can make it. He doesn’t wait. He moves, driving into me with a raw, fevered need, as though he’s been starved for centuries and I’m the only thing that can sate him.

He pulls away from my lips just long enough to murmur against my sweat-slicked skin, his voice ragged with restraint.

"I’m sorry—for being so impatient."

Sorry? As if I care. As if I want him to be gentle, to hold back when I need him to take everything.

I tangle my fingers in his damp hair, yanking hard in response, forcing him to meet my gaze. His blue eyes burn into mine, dark with possession, with a hunger that mirrors my own. The intensity is suffocating, intoxicating. His hold on my legs tightens, his grip bruising as he lifts me higher, angling me just right, and then—

I feel it.

A pressure unlike before, a deep, persistent push against something within me that shouldn’t be possible now that my heat has passed. My breath stutters, my entire body trembling as pleasure crashes over me, raw and unexpected. My vision blurs as my climax rips through me, sudden and uncontrollable, leaving me gasping in his arms.

Thorne groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my skin.

"My beloved star," he rasps, "you’re too tight... relax."

His voice is both a command and a plea, but I can’t think, can’t do anything but hold onto him as the waves of pleasure keep hitting me. I can’t take any more. And yet—

He grows bigger inside me.

Too much. Too much. Too much.

I shake my head, whimpering, clawing at his back, but he only presses deeper, his lips ghosting over my temple in something almost tender.

"Get out!" I cry, pulling hard at his hair, forcing him to face me.

Tears prick the corners of my eyes. It’s too much. His knot is locking us together, stretching me beyond my limits, making me feel so impossibly full I can barely breathe.

But Thorne just looks at me, his gaze soft but unyielding.

"You know I can’t," he growls against my throat, thrusting shallowly, sending shockwaves of overstimulation through me.His voice is soothing, but he’s still thrusting, shallow and slow, pushing himself deeper.

I whimper, helpless, overstimulated, wrecked.

Thorne kisses me, soft this time, gentle and coaxing. Loving.

And I relax—because of course I do.The tension seeps from my body, and I melt into his embrace. He groans in relief as my walls flutter around him, adjusting to the sheer size of him.

The moment I surrender, he groans brokenly, his whole body tensing, and then he spills inside me, hot, thick, claiming.

I whimper, overwhelmed.

It’s so much.

I feel full, stretched, swollen, completely ruined.

Thorne’s breathing is ragged, his forehead pressed against mine.

"I love you," he whispers.

Tears prick at my eyes.

"I love you more," I murmur, voice raw, fingers threading through his sweat-damp hair.

His breathing is heavy, his body shaking as he holds me tighter, as though he’s afraid to let go. I sigh into his shoulder, nuzzling against his neck, inhaling the scent of him—sandalwood and something uniquely him that always makes my heart ache in the best way.

I love this man so much.

Slowly, Thorne moves away from the wall, his arms secure around me. We’re still connected, still locked together, and we will be until his knot subsides. But neither of us are in any hurry to part.

I bury my face against his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his skin, letting my fingers trail over the strong curve of his shoulders. I can feel his heartbeat—steady, strong, as if tethering me to reality.

Mine.

This is where I belong. In his arms. Always.