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Luther closed his eyes. Why couldn’t Onyx just enjoy himself? Why did he always regret touching Luther?

Onyx cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for?—”

Luther’s eyes snapped open. “If you finish that apology, I will transform into a dragon and eat you!”

Onyx turned towards him, eyes widening at the fury in Luther’s voice.

“I don’t want to hear about you regretting touching me.” Luther rose to his feet. “You wanted that! You wanted me! Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

“I did.” But Onyx sounded so defeated by it, like he was ashamed for wanting, for desiring Luther.

And somehow, that just made Luther feel even worse.

Luther felt dirty. And not the fun kind of dirty either.

Luther pressed his lips together. He stood, did up his trousers, ran a hand through his hair, and wiped at his cheeks. He doubted he looked like anything other than a man who’d just given a blow job behind some bushes, but he didn’t care.

Why was Luther so repulsive to Onyx?

Luther knew he was a fuck-up, a failure, a mess. He would understand if that made him unworthy of being loved and respected by someone like Onyx.

But did it really make him unworthy of being desired?

Apparently, to someone as noble, honourable, and respectable as Onyx, it did.

Unable to look at Onyx, Luther stepped out from the space between the azalea bushes and the wall.

Several people stared in their direction, whispering and giggling.

Onyx reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

For a split second, Luther thought Onyx might apologise, and not for fucking him, but for treating him like shit the second after spilling down his throat.

“You can’t just run off. We can’t look like we are fighting in front of others.” Onyx’s gaze flicked over the individuals in the garden. “We must think of appearances. For the sake of the treaty.”

A bright, fiery red filled Luther’s vision.

Because of course that was why Onyx had stopped Luther. Not because he cared about Luther and his feelings. But because of the precious fucking treaty.

“You want to make sure people believe we are serious about the treaty?” Luther asked.

“Of course.” Onyx gave a jerky nod.

Without giving himself time to second-guess, Luther flung himself at Onyx, wrapping his arms around his neck, kissing him deeply, and practically humping him out in the open where everyone could see.

He heard excited murmurs from those watching.

Onyx froze.

Luther tore himself away and stepped back. “There. Now everyone will think we are serious about the treaty.”

Luther pointed to the azalea bushes. “Especially because it was clear we were fucking back there.” Luther scoffed. “No one thought we were fighting. And if anyone is uncertain, I’ll be sure to tell them I was sucking your cock. You know, for the sake of the treaty.”

Onyx stuttered.

But Luther didn’t give him time to pull himself together and respond. He marched off, a brittle smile on his face as he waved at the spectators, including Prince Elias Storm, who gave him a wink.

Thankfully, Onyx let him go.