Sunlight spilled softly across the bedroom, touching the tousled hair and warm skin of the two entangled bodies. Kaein's head rested on Lior's chest, inhaling the deep, comforting scent of gardenia mixed with the lingering pheromones of their knotting. The knot may have faded, but the bond, heavy and intimate, pressed them together in quiet dominance and surrender.
Lior's fingers drifted through Kaein's hair, tracing the lines of his jaw, shoulders, and back in slow, possessive motions. "Morning, my Alpha," he murmured, voice husky from sleep and desire, lips brushing Kaein's temple.
Kaein stirred, stretching against Lior's body, sighing softly. "Morning… Lunar," he whispered, voice thick, still tinged with the remnants of the night. "I… slept well."
"You always sleep well when I'm near," Lior replied, nipping gently at Kaein's ear. "Even the morning smells better when it's you beside me."
Kaein smiled, curling closer, pressing a lingering kiss to Lior's collarbone. "I don't think I could ever wake up without you," he murmured, hand resting possessively over Lior's chest.
From the edge of the bed, Witty, their small white cat, padded in with quiet curiosity, hopping onto the bed and rubbing against Kaein's shoulder. Lior chuckled, brushing a hand through the cat's soft fur. "Looks like someone wants to be part of our morning too," he teased, tone teasing yet intimate.
Kaein laughed softly, the sound like liquid warmth in the morning. "She's ours now… just like us," he said, running his fingers along Witty's fur, eyes meeting Lior's in a shared smile.
Breakfast became a gentle, teasing dance. Lior carried Kaein to the kitchen in arms, peppering soft kisses across his face, nuzzles along the neck, while Witty circled their ankles, mewing. They moved together effortlessly—peeling fruit, pouring coffee, feeding Witty scraps under the table—small moments of domestic intimacy that felt monumental after the intensity of knotting.
During a quiet pause, Lior leaned close, voice low, seductive yet tender. "Do you realize… now we can't ever be apart?" he whispered, lips brushing Kaein's. "Even for a day… I feel the pull… the need to have you, only you, always."
Kaein pressed back, hands tracing Lior's sides, heart pounding from both affection and residual desire. "I know… I feel it too… Lunar. Even now… even while cooking breakfast, I can't stop thinking about your hands… your scent… your… everything."
The day unfolded with small touches, lingering kisses, playful teasing, and whispered possessive declarations. Every glance, every brush of skin, every shared movement reaffirmed the permanent bond they had sealed the night before.
Later, Kaein packed lightly for his seminar, one small suitcase ready, but he lingered, brushing fingers over Lior's forearms, catching each subtle inhalation of pheromones, savoring the way their bodies reacted even in mundane movements.
"You'll be away… but I'll feel you every second," Lior murmured, voice low, a mix of seduction and longing. He pressed a lingering kiss to Kaein's temple, then along his jaw. "Don't forget… I'm waiting. Every moment. Even when it's just memories… you're mine."
Kaein shivered, pressing a soft, trembling kiss to Lior's lips. "And I… mine, Lunar… always yours. I'll carry you in every breath… every thought…"
As Kaein left for his seminar, Lior lingered by the window, watching him go, body humming with residual pheromones, dominance, and desire. His mind whispered fantasies of the evening reunion, playful touches, and domestic evenings that would stretch long into whispered nights.
Even as he returned to work later in the week, Lior felt the bond tighten, the tug of possession and longing threading through every interaction, every step back toward their shared home. The apartment would be waiting, Witty curled in their corner, the scent of Alpha and Lunar still thick in the air, the reminder of knotting vivid and intoxicating.
And when Kaein returned, even after long days of lectures and seminars, they would collapse into each other again—kisses, gentle bites, teasing touches, murmurs of possession and surrender, laughter and whispered confessions, a daily reaffirmation of the love and desire that now permanently bound them.
Every shared glance, every touch, every moment became a small ritual: feeding Witty, preparing meals together, soft murmurs of "yours" and "mine," hands intertwined, hair tousled from sleep or hurried mornings, lips stealing quick, lingering kisses even in the kitchen.
The chapter closed on a quiet, intimate evening: Kaein reading notes for the next lecture while leaning against Lior's chest, Lior's hands tracing slow patterns across his back, Witty sprawled across the sofa. Every whisper, every hum, every touch, every shared scent—a visual tableau of domestic life, desire, and mutual possession.
"Even when the world is loud… or far away…" Lior whispered, lips brushing Kaein's temple, "we are home… together… always."
Kaein closed his eyes, pressing closer, inhaling, sighing, murmuring, "Home… always… with you, Lunar. Always."
The scent, the warmth, the subtle lingering dominance and surrender—they were theirs, inseparable, intoxicating, permanent.