The System timer for [Knotting Duration] hit 00:00.
Elian felt the pressure inside him recede, the biological lock disengaging with a wet, squelching sound that was simultaneously the most embarrassing and relief-inducing noise he had ever heard.
He lay on the rug, panting, staring at the high ceiling. His legs were numb. His hips felt like they had been dismantled and put back together by a blind carpenter.
"Don't move," Cassian murmured, his voice rough.
He pulled out slowly. The sensation of emptiness was jarring. Fluids—a mix of the Silk Vine Extract, sweat, and a frankly alarming amount of royal seed—spilled out of Elian, soaking his thighs and the expensive Persian rug.
"I ruined the rug," Elian whispered, horrified. "That's... that's a historic rug."
Cassian huffed a dark laugh. He leaned over, kissing the sweat off Elian's forehead. "I will buy a new rug. I will buy a thousand rugs. I will pave the palace in rugs just so I can ruin them with you."
