Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes-Chapter 138: Used up

Chapter 137

Jack

I don’t even listen to the man in front of me, talking about my week’s schedule and the functions I’m supposed to attend. Because any slight movement makes me flinch.

Hours. Hours.

They spent on me, and it didn’t matter whether I came; no, I was a test subject, and it was a lot. I wouldn’t change it for the world, but heavens, it was a lot.

They swapped.

They cooperated.

Each time, I rose up to the occasion, and these are now the consequences of my decision. Because I’m so sensitive. I don’t think there’s anything left in my balls.

At all.

Can I really handle two lovers? Really? Is my stamina up to this?

As I sit here, my body aching and my mind racing, I can’t help but reflect on the intensity of last night.

The way Ciel and Nolan worked together, their dynamic shifting and evolving with each passing moment, was both exhilarating and exhausting.

They pushed me to my literal limits, at some point I thought it would fall off from overuse.

The memory of Nolan’s touches, clumsy at first, then more confident and eager, the way he was following orders, sends a shiver down my spine.

There’s something incredibly hot about watching him transform from a nervous, uncertain puppy into a confident, dominant force.

The way he took direction from Ciel, his eagerness to please, to understand, to connect, was both adorable and incredibly arousing.

And there’s this chemistry between them. I genuinely cannot believe they thought of being just friends? The sparks between them could light a literal fire.

It was as if the room itself was alive with their energy, their connection so potent that it left me breathless and wanting more.

I can’t help but feel a sense of pride, of accomplishment, against all odds my dick didn’t give up, we didn’t give up.

"Your Highness?"

The voice snaps me out of my thoughts, sharp enough that I straighten instinctively.

I blink once. Twice. Drag my focus back into the room.

The advisor standing in front of me freezes mid-sentence, clearly uncertain whether he’s offended me or merely interrupted something important. His hands clutch a tablet. His posture is rigid in that careful way palace staff learn early.

"Yes," I say, clearing my throat. My voice comes out rougher than I intend.

He hesitates, then continues. "As I was saying—the charity luncheon on Thursday has been moved to the east hall. And the trade council has requested your presence Friday morning. They insist it is... non-negotiable."

Non-negotiable. Of course.

I nod, though my body protests even the smallest shift in the chair. Every muscle is aware of itself. Every nerve feels... overstimulated, like I’ve been tuned too tightly and left that way.

I deserve this.

I let my gaze drift—not to anything inappropriate, just to the window, the line of sunlight cutting across the marble floor. It’s grounding.

Reminds me where I am.

Prince of Solmere.

"Your Highness?" the advisor says again, gentler this time.

"I heard you," I reply. "Make the necessary arrangements."

He bows quickly, relief obvious, and resumes outlining the schedule. I listen now,actually listen—mentally filing obligations, appearances, responsibilities.

The advisor finally finishes, snapping his tablet closed. "That will be all, Your Highness."

I nod. "Thank you."

He leaves quietly, the door clicking shut behind him.

The moment I’m alone, the tension drains out of my shoulders.

I exhale slowly and stand, rolling my neck once, twice. Today is another public appearance,another carefully choreographed moment where I smile beside Anderson, nod at the right places, pretend everything is perfectly orderly and unshaken.

*

The door opens, and I’m hit immediately with the scent.

Roses.

Wine.

Warm, familiar comfort.

Ciel.

The room feels different with him in it,softer somehow, like the air itself has relaxed. He’s sprawled across the bed, tangled in sheets, fast asleep.

One arm is thrown over his head, hair a mess, lashes resting dark against his cheeks.

I pause in the doorway longer than necessary.

This is heaven.

Nolan must be with Lanny if Ciel is asleep here. That thought settles something in my chest, warm and grounding

I move quietly, changing into the outfit the stylist prepared. Tailored, immaculate, expensive enough to make me look untouchable. I adjust the cuffs, straighten the collar, and reach for my belt.

That’s when I feel eyes on me.

I glance up.

Ciel is awake, propped on one elbow, watching me with a sleepy, unfocused softness that nearly undoes me on the spot.

"Hey, sunshine," I say, smiling before I can stop myself. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

His hair is sticking up in every direction. It’s adorable.

"Jack," he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.

"You’re leaving?"

"Yeah," I say quietly. "Something I unfortunately can’t avoid."

He pushes himself up and pads over, bare feet silent against the floor. Without a word, he takes the belt from my hands and finishes buckling it for me.

I watch him the entire time.

He looks up through scarlet lashes, eyes still hazy and sleepy, he’s so beautiful.

"I have a love-hate relationship with how good you look these days," he says mildly.

I huff a laugh. "Are you saying I didn’t look good before?"

"No," he says, sliding his hand to my arm, fingers curling lightly over my bicep. "But begrudgingly, the clothes do make the man."

Wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him closer. He fits against me like he always has, like he always will.

"I hate that other omegas are going to ogle you," he mutters, looping his arms around my neck.

"It matters not," I murmur, pressing my forehead to his. "I already have two lovers."

He hums softly, pleased.

"And right now," I add dryly, "I am completely incapable of being distracted, I literally can’t get hard anymore."

He tilts his head, lips close to my ear.

"Wanna bet?"

I groan under my breath.

"No," I say firmly, stepping back before my body betrays me. "Sunshine. I really have to go."

He laughs,the sound wraps around me like sunlight.

He leans up, kisses my cheek, lingering just long enough to remind me what I’m leaving behind. Do I really have to go?

Stepping away before I change my mind, before I decide to burn the entire schedule to the ground.