Define The Relationship Novel - Chapter 13

While Karlyle went to the kitchen to get whiskey and glasses, Ash was lying on the sofa opposite the bed, looking outside. Karlyle, whose gaze fell on Ash’s long legs and ankles protruding from the sofa armrest, quietly entered the room.

The enormous bed, large enough for three people, had curtains drawn, and opposite it was a terrace overlooking the city, elegantly laid out. Ash, lying down, looked at Karlyle languidly and smiled.

“Whiskey?”

“Do you prefer something else?”

“Hmm…”

Ash shook his head.

“I like sweet things, but I don’t really need them right now.”

He felt as though he shouldn’t ask why, but Karlyle eventually asked again,

“Why don’t you need it?”

“If I need something sweet, I can just eat Karlyle.”

With those words, Ash gestured. Karlyle felt dizzy at the description of “sweet” and the verb “eat.” The man had been saying strange things since last time. Including the talk about him being innocent, looking at him seductively, and now such words. These were words that didn’t suit Karlyle at all.

“It seems Mr. Jones has no talent for metaphors.”

Even with a tone of genuine incomprehension, Ash continued to beckon him over. Karlyle had no choice but to approach him. He couldn’t understand why Ash was calling him when he was already sprawled on a sofa barely big enough for one person.

“Do you know something?”

“Tell me.”

“Karlyle, you call my name every time you kiss me.”

Ash chuckled, patting his stomach. Karlyle closed his mouth, unable to grasp what Ash was pointing out or his gesture. Did I do that?

“Calling me Mr. Jones, then calling me Ash…”

Ash wiped the smile from his face and sat up. Then he pulled Karlyle towards him. Karlyle found himself seated on Ash’s lap, still holding the whiskey bottle and glass. Karlyle squirmed awkwardly on the firm thighs.

“If you were trying to make me hard, you succeeded.”

With those words, Ash buried his face in Karlyle’s neck. He burrowed into the shirt, which had been unbuttoned since earlier, and lightly bit Karlyle’s collarbone. Smacking sounds echoed from below his neck, then lips softly trailed down his chest.

Ash moved along the well-defined valley of his upper body. Arms tightly cinched around his waist blocked Karlyle’s retreat. Unable to put down the bottle and glass in his hands, Karlyle tensed his abdomen. It felt strange. It was different from the ticklish caresses of Omegas. Every place his lips touched, his skin felt like it was melting. It dissolved smoothly, like sugar in water.

“Ash, the alcohol, ugh…!”

Lips touched his chest. His well-maintained chest muscles were firm without being overly so. Ash lightly pushed aside his shirt with the tip of his nose and tilted his head slightly. Then, he broadly licked Karlyle’s areola with his tongue. The wet, squelching sensation of the tongue moving over his areola caused his nipples to gradually harden. A wave of shame washed over him.

“St-stop, Ash, stop it.”

“But I need something sweet, don’t I?”

“Rather, another drink, khh…!”

Ash lightly bit the plump, erect nipple. It didn’t hurt. From the nipple, bitten with very slight force, an utterly incomprehensible pleasure surged.

Has he ever allowed anyone to lick his chest? No, never. His abdomen hardened. His abs tensed, becoming sharply defined. Karlyle gritted his teeth and pulled his body back. Ash’s lips followed.

The shallow lapping sounds made his ears burn. A tongue lightly tapped his erect nipple. It lingered, circling slowly, then his lips sucked the nipple again.

The whiskey bottle fell onto the blue carpet with a dull thud. Karlyle gasped, his mouth slightly agape, and his body trembled. As the tickling sensation spreading from his chest enveloped him, Ash’s hand reached down below.

The belt he had just fastened, the zipper he had just pulled up, clicked open in an instant. He tried to stand, his thighs twitching, but Ash wouldn’t allow it. The arm around his waist held him down.

A hand slipped into his loosening pants. The hand that had gently gripped his buttocks briefly rubbed the firm flesh. The lips that had been sucking his chest were now licking the other areola. The feeling of cool air touching the skin where saliva had been, the sensation of a slippery tongue sucking at the sensitive nubs—all these sensations were awkward.

Karlyle hated foreplay the most. It was nothing more than an act to excite Omegas and make them wet. The opposite was not applicable. Karlyle didn’t want it. Yet here he was, doing this with another Alpha…

While he was momentarily stiff, the arm around his waist loosened, and Ash’s hand moved down to the front. A palm touched his hard, hot erection, pressed tightly beneath his briefs. Haaah, a faint groan escaped his lips.

A large, broad palm pressed down firmly on his penis. Then it began to rub widely up and down. A shiver of pleasure coursed through him. Karlyle’s mouth fell open soundlessly at the intense sensation spreading through his lower abdomen. He grimaced slightly, suppressing his breath.

The palm moving over his briefs then, very slightly, pulled them down. Ash’s fingers touched his penis, which sprang out as if flicked. Ash’s fingers, touching the tip of his glans, were as soft yet firm as his image. The fingers lightly stroked the rounded tip, which had turned reddish from the heat.

“…!”

Karlyle’s hand finally dropped the glass. The crystal cup didn’t break, rolling instead on the carpeted floor. It felt like just yesterday he thought the stimulation to his penis had grown dull, but Ash’s actions, rubbing the sensitive tip, were different.

“Are you hard too, Karlyle?”

I’m happy. The whispered voice was as intimate and lovely as a confession. His freed hands instinctively gripped Ash’s back. The hand that had been rubbing his glans now naturally stroked, touched, and shook the entire shaft.

With skillful movements, his penis steadily grew in volume. Ash’s scent wafted over him. The cool, pungent pheromones seeping into his lungs, the soft scent of fabric softener, Ash’s natural body odor.

Then a strange feeling came over him. Because of his own appearance, sitting on Ash’s thigh, enveloped in his pheromones.

Isn’t this meaningless anyway?

Even if this improved and returned to how it was before, the emotion he would feel would ultimately be the same weariness. Would something change if he got a fiancée? Or would it ultimately be the same? The questions spread like poison.

Ash quickly noticed his thoughts drifting elsewhere. The hand rubbing his penis rubbed as if digging into his urethra. Karlyle’s face contorted at the sudden, sharp pleasure.

“You’re thinking too much, Karlyle.”

A hand reached out and gently gripped his chin. Held captive, Karlyle looked into Ash’s eyes. The gaze, as if it could drown him, stared directly back. The gray eye on the right, and the light, lake-like blue eye on the left, held Karlyle within them.

“Did I bore you?”

“No, not at all.”

The stimulation intensified. His palm felt as if it was sticking. The temperature, gradually, gradually, rose. At the terrifyingly intense friction on his sensitive spots, Karlyle tightly crumpled Ash’s shirt.

He was momentarily dazed by the precarious pleasure, then he sharply came to his senses at the unfamiliar sensation probing his rear. The hand that had been gripping his chin had somehow moved lower. To that place.

“Ash, there…!”

His stomach churned as if he were seasick. The feeling of something supporting him being interfered with. The futility of why this was happening, a sense of rejection as if his identity as an Alpha was shaking. It was something he had vaguely considered, an act Luther had also mentioned. Was it necessary? Really? Did he truly have to do this?

But the finger rubbing near the entrance didn’t stop. The finger gently traced the tightly wrinkled, constricted opening. A different kind of pleasure, one he had never experienced, slowly spread from that area.

The churning intensified. The moment the finger finally probed the closed opening, Karlyle pushed Ash away and stood up. His movements, staggering to his feet, were hasty and sharp.

“Stop, stop it.”

Ash blinked. Ash, who had been quietly watching Karlyle, tilted his head to the side. The deep smile on his face gradually faded.

“Can’t you do it?”

Ash straightened his posture. His gentle and kind face remained the same, but Ash was no longer looking at him with the fervent eyes he had moments ago. Karlyle roughly ran his hand through his hair, like someone who had forgotten self-control. A strand of disheveled hair fell across his forehead.

“This… I don’t think this is right.”

“Oh, really?”

Ash crossed his legs and watched him for a moment, then nodded as if understanding. Ash turned his gaze to the glass and whiskey bottle on the floor, picked them up, and quietly placed them on the sofa.

“In that case, I think this is as far as Karlyle and I go.”

Ash stood up, straightening his shirt, which was slightly disheveled, though less so than Karlyle’s. A slight urge to vomit rose. His mood plummeted sharply. He felt as if he had been thrown to the ground.

“…Mr. Jones.”

“I don’t have a hobby of forcing things.”

It was strange how a soft voice could sound so cold. Karlyle stared at Ash, feeling distant. The heat that had soared to its peak had cooled ambiguously, and he stood before Ash in a disheveled state. Was it because of the sense of deprivation that sight evoked?

He felt, truly…

The words “this is as far as we go” were incredibly, irritating.

“It’s like I’m raping you, Karlyle. Unless it’s roleplay, I don’t want to force someone who genuinely pushes me away.”

Ash spoke, looking at Karlyle as if he had no lingering attachment whatsoever. Karlyle couldn’t think of an appropriate response. No, he knew. If it was meaningless, he should stop. He should stop this foolish act that didn’t suit him and let Ash go.

Then he wouldn’t see him again.

“I’ll talk to Nick.”

But at the mention of Nick’s name from Ash’s lips, Karlyle wavered. He recalled his initial purpose. The decision to watch the man before his eyes.

The desire not to have any impure elements in his younger brother’s happy life. A reason he himself couldn’t be sure of came to mind.