Shame and guilt

LUCIAN 

The office was a disaster.

Not in the messy, coffee stained papers and unwashed mugs kind of way.

No, it was neat and organized but felt really intimidating and imposing even though there was no living thing here.

The first task Elias gave me was cleaning this room.

It was his home office. I figured it wasn’t a coincidence. It was a trial of sorts.

He wanted to see if I’d snoop, disobey, or sneak around like the criminal, everyone thought I was.

Well, screw him. I wasn’t interested in playing spy. My life is too complicated for that.

But I did need answers.

And this place probably has a clue about my sister and what happened between them. 

There were no pictures of her anywhere. No letters. Not even a scent. If she ever worked in this office with him, it was as if she’d been erased.

I've been here for a day, and I've not seen any servants around to ask. It felt like it was just me, the guards, the butler, and the Lycan King. 

So I cleaned, peeking into whatever I could, that would give me a clue as to where she was.

The papers and pictures on his desk said nothing.

There was nothing in the bookshelves, desks, and locked drawers, which I picked by the way. There was also nothing I could take without raising suspicion.

Still, I continued looking. Just as I reached near the far shelves to round up the cleaning, I spotted a diary at the top of the shelf.

The moment I reached up to pick it, I heard the door click open.

My heart slammed into my ribs. I didn’t pause to think. I dove into the closest thing with a door.

It was a storage unit from the looks of it and the dust in here.

It was cramped, too small for me to squeeze in. I barely managed to close the door. 

My knees jammed into my chest as I folded. One wrong breath, and this entire dumb idea would crash down.

His footsteps echoed in the otherwise quiet room, and his scent drifted to my nose. It was spicy, strong, and burned my nose. I held my breath, afraid he'd hear me breathing.

He moved toward the desk, and I heard papers shuffle, then the room was silent once more.

Out of the blues, I heard a zipper go down, a low breath, almost like a sigh followed by a grunt.

You've got to be kidding me.

I squinted through the tiny holes in the cabinet door.

Elias leaned against his desk now, his pants down. 

One hand gripping the edge and the other between his bare legs.

My stomach flipped.

He was stroking himself and not just casually. I could hear the slapping sounds of his palm against his shaft.

It doesn't seem like some quick stress-relief session. 

His head was tilted back slightly, lips parted, chest rising and falling with each slow drag of his hand.

And that thing in his hand? It was larger than the last time I saw it.

With this kind of cock, you didn’t take, you survived.

It had veins along the side. Head flushed deep red. His balls swollen underneath, tight and full, like they hadn’t been emptied in weeks.

I pressed back against the wood, trying to breathe without making a sound.

My stomach pooled with desire, my own cock itched to be touched.

Then I heard it.

“Fucking Ashborne....”

That was my family's name.

He whispered it again, like it tasted bitter in his mouth 

“Ashborne, Ashborne, ” he muttered again and kept stroking. Faster now, angrier almost without rhythm.

 His abs flexed, his biceps shaking. His face was scrunched up in something that looked closer to pain.

Was he…? Did he miss my sister so much?

My chest burned, and my skin tingled in a way I hated.

I shouldn’t be turned on, I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be watching this.

But gods, I couldn’t look away.

His voice dropped to a rasp. “Damn Ashborne."

He squeezed his shaft hard, groaning through clenched teeth.

Something wet stained my trousers.

Embarrassment washed over me like cold water, I can't believe I got wet by watching my sister’s husband. She'd be so disappointed in me.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Even though my brain was harshly criticizing me, I couldn't get my eyes to co-operate with me.

He shifted almost giving me a clearer view of what he was doing.

He knew I was here.

He had to.

There was no way he didn’t sense me. He was the Lycan King. He could hear a damn fly cough from a mile away.

Still… he didn’t stop. I couldn't move my gaze. I was frozen in my own body.

He kept stroking, his breathing ragged.

He angled his hips forward slightly, like he was performing.

And maybe… maybe he was.

His whole body tensed, and a low growl erupted from him.

With a sharp groan, he came.

A warm, thick liquid spilled over his hand onto the dark wood floor. 

I shut my eyes briefly. 

Guilt and heat coiled tight in my stomach. Shame mixed with the hint of something I didn’t want to name.

He stood there for a second, chest heaving, cum dripping from his fingers.

Then, quietly, he wiped his hand on a towel, drew his pants up, adjusted himself, and left the room without a word.

The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I finally let out a breath.

I stayed there for another minute, frozen, my heartbeat deafening.

My body was flushed with forced desire. I was confused, turned on, and mostly disgusted with myself.

It felt like I’d just shared something intimate with him, except he didn’t touch me.

He didn’t look at me. He probably didn't know I was there.

Was that worse? Maybe if he knew, he wouldn't have —

My skin prickled with desire all over.

I opened the storage door slowly and stepped out, taking a mouthful of air to regulate my breathing. 

My legs were shaky. My mind was a frenzy mess.

My sister would definitely hate me for this.