everyone knew what came next:
The fight for *claiming rights.*
And this time?
It wasn't about bloodlines…
It was about *love.*
Jake's hands tightened on Felix's waist—possessive, protective. "I'm taking my partner home," he said lowly—the warning in his voice sharp as a knife.
---
At Jake's Place In England
Jake watched Felix take in the luxury suite—soft cream couches, a wide bedroom with a king bed and walk-in wardrobe, and an immense kitchen with an island for cooking. Outside, a private river-facing terrace overlooked a rolling hillside dotted with trees. It felt less like a suite and more like its own home.
But Felix was still silent.
Jake cleared his throat softly. "I… I need to tell you something."
"I… I've been lying to you."
Felix's eyes snapped up. His voice was carefully even when he replied: "About what?"
"Everything," Jake said quietly. He moved closer, eyes searching Felix's. "About who I am."
Silence.
Felix's throat bobbed—but he didn't shrink from the truth. "Does that surprise me?" he said finally. "No. I always knew I didn't have the whole picture. Why don't you finish it, then? Tell me *who* you really are."
Jake inhaled, taking in the tension in Felix's shoulders—the sharpness in his gaze. "I'm not just someone who acts for a living."
Felix almost smiled. "That much I could tell."
"No," Jake murmured, coming closer. "I'm a member of the royal family."
Any trace of humor dropped from Felix's face. "...What?"
"You heard me," Jake whispered into the silence. "I'm a prince."
Felix went entirely still—as if even breathing would break the moment. "And you didn't tell me… because?"
The faintest hint of uncertainty crossed Jake's face. "...I thought you'd see me differently," he admitted softly. "Like everyone else."
"And you thought keeping it a secret was better?" Felix bit out, stepping back. Jake's expression tightened.
"I wanted you to see *me*," he said fiercely, closing the distance. "Not a prince. Not a celebrity. Just someone who cares about you."
The words hung heavy in the air—raw sincerity and fear.
Felix stared at him. "You did. But you still lied."
Jake exhaled. "I'm not proud of that," he admitted softly. "I never wanted to hide anything from you. I just..."
He looked away, struggling to find the words. "It's complicated."
Felix watched him—really watched him then, reading the pain in his eyes, the tightness of his shoulders.
"Try me," he said finally, voice more gentle now.
Jake met his gaze, something raw in his eyes. "It's not just about how the world sees me."
Felix tilted his head, listening.
"It's the expectations," Jake continued quietly. "Being a prince means more than a fancy life. It means everything I do, every decision I make—it affects people. Expectations follow my every move."
Felix didn't look away. "...So you wanted to escape that."
He looked down, voice barely above a whisper: "I wanted to be *seen.* Not as royalty. Not as some distant figure on a screen or in tabloids."
A pause.
"I just wanted someone to love *me.*"
Felix's breath caught.
Because for the first time—it wasn't about secrets.
It was about fear.
Not Jake's... but his own.
That he'd been loved not for who he was—but for what he represented: an Omega to claim, a prize wrapped in silk and status.
And now this man—prince or not—stood before him, offering not power...
But vulnerability.
Slowly, Felix stepped forward—not away from the truth, but into it—and whispered:
**"You don't have to run from your crown… just don't let it overshadow your heart."**
Outside, the wind stirred through the trees along the riverbank—as if nature itself held its breath.
And somewhere beneath that quiet?
The old rules began to crack…
Not because of bloodlines...
But because **love dared to speak louder than legacy.**
---
Jake's eyes softened. "...You're not... angry?"
Felix shook his head. "I'm still hurt," he said honestly. "You could've told me before, you know. But I understand wanting to be seen as you. Not just your title."
A pause.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Jake said, voice barely above a whisper.
Felix looked down at his hands—then back up, green eyes searching.
"When you first saw me that first time… at the red carpet show…" He swallowed. "Did you already know who I was? Or did you just… *want* me?"
Jake didn't hesitate.
"I didn't know a damn thing about royal bloodlines or claiming rights that night," he said softly, stepping closer. "I only knew your laugh sounded like home."
"That you smiled with your whole body."
"And that when our hands brushed..." He reached out now, fingertips grazing Felix's palm—"it felt like fate ignoring every rule it ever made."
Felix shivered.
Not from fear.
From *truth.*
Because some lies were built on protection…
And some truths?
Were born from love too powerful to hide.
Outside—the river whispered onward,
and somewhere beneath the stars,
a new story began:
Not of princes and Omegas…
But of two souls who chose **each other**—
over legacy.
over power.
over everything else too
---
Felix stepped forward, closing the space between them.
"You should've told me," he whispered. "But... I'm glad you didn't run from me when I found out."
Jake let out a slow breath—like he'd been holding it for weeks. "I don't want to run anymore."
His hand rose, tentative at first, brushing a strand of hair from Felix's forehead.
Then, lower—the pad of his thumb tracing the curve of Felix's cheekbone.
"I want to stay," Jake murmured. "With you."
"I just need to know… can you forgive me?"
Felix didn't answer with words.
Instead—he leaned in.
And kissed him.
Not like before—desperate and hidden beneath fame or fantasy—but slow, certain… *chosen.*
The kind of kiss that doesn't hide from truth,
but welcomes it home
Outside, dawn painted the river gold,
and somewhere far beyond England's hills—
a new life began:
No titles needed. No crowns claimed.
Just love—
loud, true,
and finally free
---
As Jake pulled Felix close, the kiss deepening as he murmured low: "Say it."
Felix pulled away slightly, lips brushing Jake's. "My lord," he breathed.
Jake inhaled sharply, eyes going dark with want.
He backed Felix against the wall, hands sliding down to rest on his hips.
His voice was rough as he growled "Again."
Felix shivered—not just from the command in Jake's voice, but from the possessive weight of his hands.
"My Lord," he whispered again.
Jake growled low in his throat, pressing his hips against Felix's, pinning him to the wall.
His mouth found the sensitive skin of Felix's neck, trailing kisses down his throat. "Again," he murmured against his pulse point. "Say it *again."*
Felix tangled his hands in Jake's hair, breath catching. "My lord," he repeated, voice breathless now, "this night is going to be... *full."*
Jake's hands tightened on his hips, fingertips digging into his skin as he murmured, "Damn right it is."
Jake's grip was almost possessive as he pressed Felix hard against the wall, mouth finding his lips again.
He bit down gently, teeth grazing Felix's lower lip as he growled, "You have no idea what you are doing to me" before capturing his mouth again.
Felix could feel the heat between them, their bodies pressed impossibly close.
"Then show me," he dared. "My lord."
Felix's eyelids fluttered shut as Jake's scent surrounded him—dark and masculine, with an undercurrent of something wild. It was intoxicating, more intense than any perfume.
And it was driving Felix *crazy.*
"God," he gasped, hips rocking forward against Jake's as he buried his face against the crook of his neck and inhaled. "You smell... you smell..."
"Good?" Jake murmured, amusement threading through the huskiness of his voice as he ran his hands down Felix's sides. He nipped at his earlobe. "Is that what you were going to say, sweetheart?"
Felix made a sound in his throat—something between a whine and a groan.
"I... damn it, you're teasing me."
Jake's fingertips traced the edge of his waist, sliding beneath the hem of his shirt.
"Maybe," he whispered, smiling. "And maybe I just like listening to you beg."
"I'm not... I don't beg," Felix protested weakly, even as he shivered beneath Jake's touch.
Jake's palms slid higher under his shirt, fingertips tracing the outline of Felix's abs. The muscles tensed beneath his touch, and he smirked.
"Liar," he whispered, voice low with desire. "You're already falling apart for me, and I haven't even touched you *anywhere* that matters yet."
At that, Felix whimpered—a broken, needy *sound* that set off a primal fire in Jake's veins.
"See?" Jake murmured, his hands sliding higher. "So pretty when you're needy for me. My little Omega."
The words sent heat straight through Felix. He hated how much those words turned him on—he'd never *liked* being called an Omega—yet the possessive edge to Jake's tone made him shiver.
"I'm not..." He protested weakly, even as he tilted his head back with a soft gasp. "I don't... I don't *beg*."
Felix's knees went weak—not just from the sensation of Jake's hands on his skin or his eyes on his face.
It was the *way* he said it—low, dark, and *promising.*
Felix shivered, his words coming out in a strangled whisper: "And... and what if I *do* want to beg?"
A slow, predatory smile curled at the corners of Jake's mouth. He leaned in closer, the heat of his body pressing Felix harder to the wall.
"Then you'd be on your knees," he murmured, fingers tracing the line of Felix's collarbone. "Beg me to make you feel good."
Felix made a sound in his throat—a needy little whine. He hated it, and yet, he couldn't stop it. It was like Jake had found a button inside him that made him a begging, quivering *mess*.
"You'd be desperate for me," Jake continued, voice almost a growl now. "Just. Like. *This.*"
One of his legs slid between Felix's, pressing them even closer—closer than they were before. His knee nudged one of Felix's thighs apart, slotting them together perfectly.
"You'd be *beautiful,*" he breathed against the sensitive skin of Felix's throat. "On your knees. Beg me to *ruin you."*
Felix gasped, the words hitting him like a punch in the gut. "God..." he groaned, head falling back against the wall.
Jake's mouth skimmed down his throat, leaving a trail of fire. He sucked gently at his pulse point, tongue darting out to soothe the sensitive skin.
"I could take you right here, sweetheart," he murmured against his throat. "Right now. Make you moan for me."
Felix swallowed hard, a low, needy sound slipping past his lips.
"I'd make you forget your own name."
Jake's hands slid down Felix's sides to his hips again, gripping them firmly. He rocked his knee against one sensitive spot, making Felix shiver.
"You wouldn't be able to think of anything but *me,*" he promised darkly, shifting his thigh again. "The way I taste, the way I touch you—"
"The *sound* I'd make you make..." Jake's voice was little more than a rumble now. "Gasping my name, begging for more. Over and over and **over..."**
Felix whined—an honest, unashamed whine. His fingers tangled in Jake's hair, and he *pulled.* "Please..." He hated himself for giving in, but he was *shaking* for him—and all Jake had done was pin him to the wall and talk dirty.
"That's it, sweetheart," Jake murmured, voice low and rough. "Beg for me."
Felix made another sound in his throat, not caring how desperate it sounded. He was losing his mind, every word from Jake's mouth driving him further and further over the edge.
"Please," he whispered, voice cracking with need. "I'll do anything. *Touch me—"*
Jake's hand slid down, fingers grazing the waistband of Felix's pants. He paused there—teasing, torturing—before slipping just one finger beneath the fabric.
"Say it again," he growled. "Who do you belong to?"
Felix gasped, body clenching at the touch. He felt impossibly sensitive, like every nerve was lit on fire.
"Yours," he whispered, voice rough and raw. "I'm yours. I *belong* to you. Damn it, *please*..."
A low, approving growl rumbled from Jake's chest.
"Good boy."
The words sent a shiver through Felix—hot and heavy. Before he could react, Jake's hand slid lower, gripping him firmly through his pants.
"*This* is mine," Jake murmured against his ear, voice dark with possession. "Every gasp. Every moan. Every *spasm* when you come apart for me."
Felix cried out—half protest, half plea—as Jake began to move his hand in slow, deliberate strokes.
"Y-yes," he panted, hips bucking instinctively into the touch. "God… *yes*, My Lord…"
Jake smiled—fierce and proud—and whispered:
**"Then beg louder."**
And the night surrendered to fire