Chapter 488: ’See How This Ended.’
"S-Selfish?" Florian asked, but Heinz didn’t answer.
Instead he began to move again, slow and deliberate this time, each thrust coaxing a broken moan from Florian’s lips.
Florian’s body was still trembling from his earlier release, and every movement sent shocks of pleasure coursing through him.
"You look so beautiful like this," Heinz murmured, his lips brushing against Florian’s ear. "Watching you fall apart... it’s intoxicating."
’I know he said I shouldn’t ask him what happened but he’s acting so...’
Strange.
Florian’s cheeks burned even brighter as he met Heinz’s gaze in the mirror. His own expression was lewd, his lips parted in a silent cry, his eyes glazed with pleasure.
He wanted to look away, to hide from the overwhelming intensity of the moment, but Heinz’s grip on him was unyielding.
"Don’t look away," Heinz commanded, his voice low and firm. "Watch yourself, Florian. Watch how perfectly you take me."
Florian’s breath caught as Heinz shifted his angle slightly, hitting a spot inside him that made his vision white out. His body arched involuntarily, a strangled cry escaping his lips as he clutched at Heinz’s arms.
"There it is," Heinz purred, his pace quickening. "I knew you could handle more."
Florian’s mind was a whirlwind of pleasure and disbelief. He couldn’t believe how deep Heinz was inside him, how utterly consumed he felt by the man who had once been nothing more than a distant figure of authority.
But now, here they were, their bodies entwined in the most intimate way possible.
"Heinz... I... I feel like I’m going to lose my mind..." Florian gasped, his voice trembling with desperation.
"Then lose it," Heinz replied, his tone dark and commanding. "Give in, Florian. Look, you’re already hard again."
Florian didn’t have the strength to resist—not that he wanted to. His body moved in tandem with Heinz’s thrusts, each one driving him closer to the edge once again.
He could feel himself tightening around Heinz, his body betraying him as it sought more and more of the pleasure that Heinz was so willingly providing.
"Ah—! Heinz... I-I think I’m..." Florian’s voice broke off into a moan, his body tensing as another orgasm threatened to overtake him.
"Good," Heinz growled, his movements becoming rougher, more erratic. "I’ll do it with you this time."
"O-Okay..." Florian mumbles, his fingers digging on Heinz’s forearms. His stomach was tingling both in pain and in pleasure, and with one final thrust he couldn’t hold back any longer.
With a broken, strangled cry, Florian came undone for the second time, his body arching, trembling violently as the waves of pleasure ripped through him.
His muscles seized and quivered, every nerve raw and burning, his voice cracking into helpless moans that filled the room.
Heinz followed not long after. His hips faltered, then stilled as he buried himself deep within Florian’s trembling body, his release spilling out in hot, relentless bursts.
A guttural groan tore from his throat, low and primal, as if claiming Florian with every drop.
Florian gasped faintly, his mind spinning as he felt liquid filling him, seeping deeper than he thought possible.
A sharp shiver tore through his frame. ’It’s... too much... too deep...’ But he couldn’t summon fear—not with the euphoria still drowning his senses.
His thoughts were fractured, hazy, scattered between exhaustion and lingering pleasure.
For a long moment, the world seemed to still. Only their ragged breaths echoed in the quiet room, mingling with the faint rustle of sheets.
Florian slumped bonelessly against Heinz’s chest, every muscle spent, his legs weak and trembling with aftershocks he couldn’t control.
Heinz’s arms circled him immediately, strong and possessive, as though he would never allow Florian to slip away. He pressed a kiss to Florian’s damp shoulder—soft, almost reverent.
"You did well, Florian," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction, but threaded with something dangerously tender.
Florian’s lips parted, but no sound came. His mind was still reeling, his body too heavy, too sensitive, to respond. ’I can’t... I can’t even think anymore...’ His eyes fluttered, drooping despite the effort to keep them open.
"Are you sleepy?" Heinz asked, his voice quieter now, almost coaxing.
Florian wanted to answer. He wanted to tell him yes, that he was beyond tired, that he just wanted warmth and silence—but his throat refused him. His body betrayed him. His eyes closed on their own, lashes trembling as his breathing slowed.
And still, Heinz held him. Firm, unyielding, unwilling to let go.
Florian didn’t care anymore. He surrendered to the darkness pulling him under, not caring despite still being in Heinz’s arms...
And let sleep take over him.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...huh?"
Florian’s lashes fluttered open, but the sight before him made his breath hitch. The mirror, the heat of Heinz’s body, the fog of ecstasy—it was gone.
He was no longer standing in front of the gilded glass.
No. He was... outside.
His chest tightened as he looked around, and his stomach sank. This wasn’t just anywhere. The air smelled faintly of dust and polish, and the stone walls were all too familiar. His steps echoed in the hallway like whispers of the past.
This was the prince’s wing of the palace.
His old wing.
His old room.
Florian froze, his brows furrowing. ’A lucid dream, or...’
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. ’No. A memory.’It had to be.
The heavy door loomed before him, its handle worn smooth by years of his own touch. His hand shook as he reached for it, fingers curling around the cold metal. His pulse thundered in his ears.
With a slow, hesitant push, the door creaked open.
And the moment it did—sounds spilled out.
Low, breathless moans. Staggered gasps. Voices he recognized instantly, voices that turned his blood cold.
Florian’s breath hitched. His whole body went rigid.
He peeked inside, his heart pounding against his ribs.
Two figures tangled together on the bed.
Familiar. Painfully familiar.
It didn’t take long for him to realize who they were.
The original Florian.
And Hendrix.
’So... this is the continuation...’
His chest constricted, a sharp ache burning through him as he gripped the door tighter.
He wanted to move closer, to see, to know how it played out—because he needed to know. The truth was right there, waiting.
And yet... his legs trembled. His throat closed. Fear and shame coiled in his gut like venom.
’Why... why am I scared? I already know what happens. I already know.’
But still, he couldn’t look away.
And he knew, deep inside, that he had to step forward.
He had to see.
Florian had to know how this ended.