I Am Tired Of Being A Hero-Chapter 311: [Anouk and Malik 2]

Malik’s office was still the same as it had been in the Capital. Orderly, sparse designs, with dark furniture chosen to naturally complement the building’s darkly weathered wood finish. Minimal decorations are saved for small bits of porcelain tucked here and there on shelves, tastefully spaced among rows and rows of neatly organised textbooks, reference books, and literature on every aspect of psychology.

Yet touches of green brightened the room, with delicate hanging basket planters suspended from the ceiling, overflowing with dangling, fragile tendrils of honeysuckle vines.

The honeysuckles were blooming now, even at this time of year—and their soft, alluring fragrance subtly wafted through the room, their curling petals and long stamens nearly dripping with it.

Malik took a small water bottle and sprayed some liquid, his long, graceful fingers touching it so gently. Anouk wanted those fingers to touch him too, to stroke his hair gently or pin him down. Anything.

"They are growing so well, aren’t they?"

Malik spoke gently and turned to smile at him, "I’m truly honoured to host the Deputy Commander in my office. You have not been here before, right?"

As he said those words, his face shifted to the clock above the entrance door and back to Anouk.

Anouk bit his lips. He knew about the camera, of course, he knew. There was nothing Malik didn’t know. At times it was like there was nothing he could hide from him.

He probably, no he most definitely knew about the woman, the hug and the baths. Anouk was truly done for.

He tried to defend himself but no words left his mouth. Malik was an enigma even in his best days but Anouk was confident that he was the one who understood him the most. At least in this world.

Confession begets leniency.

When Malik turned his back, Anouk had already gotten on his knees.

He placed his hands on his thighs and looked at Malik.

Malik’s eyes darkened, and a violent storm of desire seemed to surge inside them, He walked in front of Anouk.

He touched his cheeks and Anouk immediately leaned into his touch.

"Dove, I am afraid you know me a little too well. Should I erase your memory so we could start afresh?" The voice was so gentle that the words seemed out of place.

The first time that they had a large fight, Malik said something similar and a sense of dread filled Anouk’s chest.

But now, those words barely caused a splash. Malik loved him the most.

He had said it himself, ’Anouk was set so high in his heart that nobody could reach it.’ he would never do something like that. Something that would hurt him.

"Dove, do you know what you have done wrong?"

Anouk nodded his head several times like a chicken pecking at food. He stared at Malik, communicating with his eyes that he wanted to speak. He felt the cold energy around his throat loosen.

"It was a newbie. I don’t even know her name. I said a few words to her and she suddenly hugged me. I know I should not have." He lowered his head. Things had been so unimaginably great that he had just panicked. The woman has a ton of perfume and Malik had always hated any other person’s scent on him.

With things so good, he did not want anything that would cause them to fight.

"Please do not be angry with me. I just did not know what to do. I won’t do it again." He rubbed his cheeks on Malik’s palm while looking up at him.

He was so adorable, so beautiful.

And he really knew him so well, knew exactly what moves to pull to tug at his heartstrings.

A pity. Malik was in the mood to play with him today.

With a light laugh, Malik brushed back the strands of hair and gently tucked them behind his head. "Is that all?"

Anouk blinked, but no matter how much he thought about it, he could not recollect another thing he had done wrong.

But he knew how to please his lover, "Sir.’

Malik’s left hand traced his face. From his sword-shaped brows to his deep-set eyes. His fingers drifted lower, brushing the strong, straight bridge of his nose to the high chiselled cheekbones.

There was no softness to Anouk, only hard planes and sharp angles.

Even before he got his cultivation back, Malik could trace this face even in his dreams.

His face lightly ghosted those full, soft lips.

He bent down and slanted his mouth against Anouk’s, capturing that sweet tremor of his mouth to still its quivering and command it to meet his own, to match, to mate, until their lips were wet and slick and burning with each other, until he tasted autumn leaves and wicked heat and the vibrating, low sound of Anouk’s breathless moan.

That moan shot through Malik, tingled against his lips, drew him in. He slipped into that inviting well of sweetness, flicked and teased and tangled with Anouk’s tongue until the beautiful dove submitted so utterly, fingers grappling at the clothes as if it was the only thing holding him up.

Malik was King Yama. He had lived countless years and would live even longer. He ruled the Netherworld but it was not his. It belonged to his brother. He had Lysander, his brother, they have been together since the dawn of time but his brother was not his.

Lysander belonged to Raizel, the soul that he had created and fought the heavens for. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

In his life, this was the person who was his. His soul, his body, his thoughts, everything about Anouk belonged to him.

The heady, hungry compulsion that drew Malik to slip his fingers around Anouk’s throat once more, capturing him fully and utterly, that rapid frantic pulse against his palm, the heat and strength of flexing, straining tendons against his encircling fingers.

"My Anouk," Malik whispered as he broke the kiss for a second.

"Mal."

"You would not be upset if I accidentally killed you, would you?" Something dark glinted in Malik’s eyes as he traced Anouk’s throat.

"Do whatever pleases you, Mal." His voice was hoarse yet it was completely indulgent. It was like he would do anything as long as it would bring a smile to Malik’s face.