The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 310

Chapter 310: Protected
The kiss came without warning.

But at the same time, Xavier should have known.

He should have seen it in the way Luca clung to him, trembling with the kind of tension that came from holding in too much. In the way his small hands fisted into his uniform like they were afraid he might disappear. In the way his mouth opened—soundless, breathless—as if begging not just for comfort, but for something only Xavier could give.

And if Luca hadn’t kissed him then?

Xavier would have.

Because there was no world, no version of him, where he could look at Luca, flushed, overwhelmed, nearly pulsing with unreleased energy, and not give in.

So when his little wife surged up and caught his mouth, Xavier welcomed it.

What began as surrender turned into something messy, desperate, and aching.

The little guide kissed him like he was starving. Like, Xavier was the only thing left in the universe that could fix the way he was unraveling.

It started desperately, all teeth and breathless whines, his legs tightening around Xavier’s hips as if he were trying to consume him. His hands were everywhere—grabbing his shoulders, threading through his hair, dragging him in with the full, stubborn weight of his body.

And only after a semblance of satisfaction did the kisses turn into something else—sometimes slow and seeking, occasionally wild and clashing. Wet and open and gasping between breaths, like kissing was the only way to get the air they needed.

Xavier responded with slow heat and unwavering patience. Every time Luca pulled or bit or dragged him in, Xavier answered with more—not to dominate, but to give.

He opened to him.

Met every push with an embrace. He kissed him to make sure he wouldn’t go without.

Luca didn’t need to ask.

And the prince didn’t wait for him to.

His hands slid beneath the hem of Luca’s shirt, finding soft skin, tracing up his back with featherlight reverence.

Luca shivered, curling into him harder, moaning against his mouth when Xavier pressed a hand flat between his shoulder blades to keep him close.

The cockpit was tight, cramped, and armored and filled with angles, but the protective lover never let Luca hit anything.

As the little daredevil threw himself into every movement with wild abandon, the husband adjusted, gripping beneath his thighs and bracing a hand behind his back, using his own body to cushion every reckless shift of weight.

He tilted just slightly when Luca leaned too hard. Curved his arm when the small animal flopped bonelessly to the side. When his head came too close to the console, Xavier nudged it gently into the curve of his shoulder, shielding this little chipmunk from hitting anything hard.

Luca didn’t notice.

Didn’t care.

He was kissing like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

While the prince was kissing him like he meant to make sure of it.

Their mouths moved in sync, then warred for control—Luca pulling him down, Xavier pressing up. Luca moaned when Xavier’s teeth grazed his lower lip. He retaliated by biting back, hips grinding forward with dizzying friction.

Xavier’s hand tightened at his waist, pulling him flush—skin to skin, heat to heat.

And then Luca pulled back slightly—just slightly.

Breathing hard.

Glowing faintly.

Then he looked up at Xavier.

And the prince nearly lost it.

Those eyes—glass-slick, golden, wide, and lidded—were staring up at him like he was the only thing that existed. Dazed. Seductive. Vulnerable in a way that felt dangerous. His cheeks were pink, his lips red and wet from their kiss, but it was his gaze that struck like a blade straight through Xavier’s composure.

The prince tried his best not to interpret everything that was packed into those eyes.

Yet his breath still caught.

His control strained at the edges.

And Luca tilted his head, mouth parting in a sigh, brushing his lips up just enough to tempt another kiss.

Xavier obliged—but slower now.

Deeper.

More deliberate.

Every breath. Every tremble. Every broken moan that escaped Luca’s lips was met with a kiss to his jaw, to his ear, to the corner of his mouth. Each time Luca shifted, Xavier was already there, one hand caressing the back of his neck, the other gripping the swell of his thigh to steady him.

Luca was everything and everywhere—splayed across him, wrapped around him, rocking gently against him in the dark cocoon of the cockpit like the two of them had never known anything else but this.

Even as they tried to devour each other.

But this wasn’t enough, for the little guide needed release.

“Luca,” Xavier whispered between kisses. “Let it go. Let me take it.”

Luca whimpered—a broken, needy sound—and his kiss faltered. But his hands never stopped trembling.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Xavier kissed the corner of his mouth.

The little guide was every bit afraid. Even in his delusional state, he knew that what he had in him was too much.

But he felt protected, reassured. And even as he doubted himself, it felt impossible to doubt the entity before him.

The release was not explosive. It was steady.

A radiant warmth spread from Luca’s chest like a tide finally allowed to crest, flowing into Xavier in glittering threads of spiritual energy.

It was overwhelming, rich, and wild—energy born from battle, fear, and survival, mingled with the emotions he hadn’t dared speak aloud.

Xavier’s breath hitched as the first wave struck him.

But he stayed rooted.

The cockpit pulsed dimly around them with light that waxed and waned like a heartbeat, where Luca’s skin met Xavier’s, warmth transferred into cold, raw fire absorbed into willing ice.

It was a strange paradox.

Luca, trembling with too much.

Xavier, steady with not enough.

But the transfer was beautiful.

Power passed between them in rhythmic pulses, like a living thread of connection woven tighter with every breath.

Xavier pressed his forehead to Luca’s. “That’s it. Just like that.”

Luca didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

His spirit answered with every glow, every breath he exhaled into Xavier’s shoulder.

And slowly, the pressure faded.

The heat calmed.

The dizziness receded.

Until the light inside the cockpit dimmed back to a gentle lull.

Until Luca’s trembling stilled, and his limbs, still wrapped tightly around Xavier, finally relaxed.

But the little guide didn’t move, not even then.

He stayed draped over him, breath fogging against Xavier’s skin. One hand remained knotted in his hair. The other rested lazily against his chest, fingers curled slightly as if still trying to hold on.

Xavier stroked his back.

Luca let out a faint, contented sound—nothing more than a hum—but it was enough.

Or so he thought.