Chapter 382
The chime of the clock tower echoed through the winding streets of Orario, a somber iron toll that signaled the passing of another day.
It was midnight, and the air was thick with the scent of spent incense, expensive wine, and the lingering, heady aura of the divine.
Outside the gates of the Ganesha Familia’s estate, the celebration was finally drawing to its inevitable close.
Bahamut stood on the cobblestones, the cool night breeze fluttering the hem of her dress.
Beside her, Aasterinian stretched her limbs with a languid grace, while Hephaestus and Demeter looked on with varying degrees of exhaustion.
Hestia, still clutching a bundle of wrapped leftovers she’d scavenged for her lone follower, stood between them, looking remarkably satisfied for someone who had spent the last hour being the target of whispered jokes.
As groups of deities meandered past them toward their own respective homes, several stopped to glance back at Bahamut and Hestia.
High-pitched giggles and muffled snorts broke the silence of the street.
Bahamut’s jaw tightened, her silver hair shimmering like moonlight as a faint growl vibrated in her throat.
She was still fuming over the "incident" earlier…..a chain of events she had sparked by teasing Loki about her rare choice of feminine attire.
The red-headed goddess of mischief had not taken the ribbing well, and the resulting chaos had turned the latter half of the party into a spectacle that the other gods would likely gossip about for decades.
"Let them laugh," Aasterinian murmured, her voice a calm balm to Bahamut’s irritation. "They’re just jealous they don’t have your charm."
"It’s not my charm I’m worried about, it’s my reputation," Bahamut huffed, though her eyes softened as she looked at her friends.
The evening had been a minefield.
They had spent the majority of it huddled near the buffet, forming a defensive perimeter of sorts. It had worked…..until Freya had descended upon them.
Bahamut’s thoughts drifted back to that encounter.
The goddess of beauty had moved with a predatory elegance, her silver eyes scanning them like a hawk looking for a crack in the armor.
Freya had been fishing, her questions wrapped in layers of silk and false sincerity, always veering toward certain questionable topics.
When Bell Cranel’s name had slipped from Hestia’s lips, Bahamut had seen it…..the momentary dilation of Freya’s pupils, the sharp intake of breath so subtle most would have missed it. Bahamut had offered a dry, knowing chuckle, watching as Hestia continued to chatter away, blissfully unaware that she had just dangled a prize in front of a starving wolf.
Bahamut hadn't intervened; the games among gods were often best observed from a distance, but it left a sour taste in her mouth nonetheless.
"Fuuuu..."
Bahamut exhaled a long, weary breath, the white mist of it dissipating in the air.
She turned to the others, her expression shifting from irritation to a hopeful, lingering warmth. "So, what do you all want to do? Go home and pretend tonight didn't happen, or come back to my place and extend the party? I’ve still got some Soma wine in my cellar."
She looked specifically at Hephaestus.
There was so much she wanted to discuss…..specifically her experiences with Draco since his return…..but the prying ears of the Ganesha manor had made such "girl talk" impossible.
Hestia was the first to decline, patting her stomach with a groan of contentment.
"I’m stuffed to the max, Bahamut. And I’ve got to get these treats back to my Bell-kun. Besides..."
She cast a quick, meaningful glance at Hephaestus.
"I’ve got some other plans tonight."
"I’m in the same boat," Demeter added, reaching out to pull Bahamut into a sudden, smothering hug.
Bahamut found herself pressed into Demeter’s generous chest, the scent of harvest grain and flowers filling her senses.
"Lots of work at the stalls in the morning. A goddess’s work is never done!"
Bahamut turned her gaze to Hephaestus.
The blacksmith goddess looked conflicted.
Her brow was furrowed, her mind clearly divided between the pile of commissions waiting at her forge and the desire to see Draco, whose return to Orario had sent ripples through their circle.
"Sorry, I can't tonight," Hephaestus finally said, her voice tinged with genuine regret.
She looked at Hestia, who was giving her a look of such pathetic, wide-eyed desperation that it was almost comical.
"Sigh. That’s too bad," Bahamut said, her shoulders slumping slightly.
"But the offer stands. Whenever you’re free, the doors are open."
With a final round of farewells, the group splintered.
Bahamut and Aasterinian didn't linger.
With a surge of strength, they took to the air, two streaks cutting through the midnight sky of Orario.
They landed softly within the gates of the Bahamut Familia estate, the silence of the manor a stark contrast to the raucous energy of the party.
"I’m going to wash the smell of Ganesha’s cheap incense off me," Aasterinian said, heading toward the ground-floor baths.
Bahamut nodded, but her eyes were already drawn upward.
On the third floor, light spilled from the windows of the office.
A massive, familiar silhouette was cast against the glass.
Her heart gave a rhythmic thrum against her ribs…..a primal, expectant beat.
This morning, she and Draco had been on the verge of something spectacular, only for Aasterinian to burst in with plans for the shopping trip.
The tension had been simmering in her blood all day, fueled by the boring pleasantries of the party.
She used the stairs, flowing up the levels until she reached the heavy oak door of the office.
She didn't knock.
She swung the door open, her presence filling the room like a sudden storm.
"I'm back," she announced.
Draco sat behind the desk, a pen held in a hand that looked like it could crush bones.
The soft glow of the lamplight highlighted the rugged, mountainous terrain of his musculature. When he looked up, the weariness of work vanished from his eyes, replaced by a slow, burning heat.
He set the pen down, the click of it against the wood sounding like a starting pistol.
He opened his arms wide.
Bahamut didn't hesitate.
She blurred across the room, leaping over the desk.
She landed on his lap, her smaller frame disappearing against the sheer breadth of his chest.
Her tail, thick and powerful, curled instinctively around his waist, resting softly against the heavy muscle of his thighs.
Draco’s arms closed around her, a mountainous embrace that made her feel utterly conquered.
"The party..." she began, her voice already dropping into a breathy register.
Draco didn't let her finish.
He leaned in, his large hand cupping the back of her head, and silenced her with a kiss.
It was deep, hungry, and tasted of the frustration they had both carried since the morning. Bahamut let out a soft, vibrating moan, her fingers digging into the hard meat of his shoulders. The fire that had been a low ember all day suddenly roared into a conflagration.
Draco stood up without breaking the kiss, lifting her as if she weighed nothing more than a feather.
Bahamut wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her body resting in his arms as he began to stride toward her bedroom.
Each step he took was heavy, purposeful, the sound of his boots on the floorboards echoing the frantic rhythm of her heart.
He kicked her bedroom door open and just as quickly kicked it shut behind them.
The room was bathed in the pale glow of the moon, casting long, dramatic shadows over the silk sheets of her bed.
He didn't put her down gently.
He fell with her onto the mattress, his weight a delicious pressure that pinned her into the soft fabric.
His own tail, a powerful appendage, lashed out in a fit of unrestrained joy, knocking a magic lamp from her bedside table.
Neither of them cared.
"Finally," he growled against the sensitive skin of her neck, his voice a low vibration that made her toes curl.
"No more interruptions."
Draco’s hands were everywhere, peeling back the silk of her party dress with a frantic sort of reverence.
When the fabric gave way, exposing her pale, skin to the cool air, he took a moment to just look at her.
His eyes were red, the pupils slit-like and predatory.
"You look divine," he whispered, though the word felt too small for the hunger in his gaze.
He stripped away his own garments, his massive form looming over her like a titan of myth.
The sheer scale of him was breathtaking……the corded muscles of his chest, the ridged abdominal wall, and the raw, masculine power that seemed to radiate from him in waves.
As their bodies met, the heat was instantaneous.
He captured her lips again, his tongue parrying with hers in a dance that mirrored the movement of their lower bodies.
His hands, rough and warm, slid down her sides to grasp her hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh.
He guided her, his movements slow and agonizingly deliberate at first, testing the limits of her patience.
Bahamut arched her back, her breath coming in ragged, short hitches.
"Draco... please," she whimpered.
He didn't need to be told twice.
He surged forward, a deep, guttural sound escaping his chest as he buried himself within her. The sensation was overwhelming…..a total, visceral synchronization of mind and body. Bahamut’s eyes flew open, her vision blurring as a wave of pleasure crashed over her.
The air grew thick, heavy and musky, charged with the friction of their bodies and the lashing of their tails, which had become entangled in a tight, scaly braid.
Draco’s movements grew more primal, his strength no longer restrained.
He drove into her with an intensity that shook the very frame of the reinforced bed frame, his breath hot against her ear.
Bahamut met him move for move, her legs locked around him, her nails leaving shallow red crescents in the skin of his back.
The build-up was a slow climb up a jagged peak, each thrust bringing them closer to the precipice.
There was only the sound of their breathing, the scent of their skin, and the electrical hum of their bodies colliding.
When the climax finally came, it was tectonic.
Draco let out a roar that he muffled against her shoulder, his entire body tensing as he gave everything of himself to her.
Bahamut cried out, her voice a high, melodic note of release that echoed off the walls.
She felt the world shatter into a thousand points of silver light, her body trembling in the aftershocks of a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
They stayed like that for a long time, tangled together in the ruins of the bedsheets.
The silence of the room returned, broken only by the synchronized sound of their slowing breath. Draco shifted his weight, rolling to the side but keeping her tucked firmly against his chest.
His hand moved in a slow, possessive arc down her spine.
Bahamut rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes half-closed.
The irritation of the party, the exhaustion of the day…..it was all gone, washed away by the storm.
"Better than the party?" Draco asked, his voice a rumbling purr.
Bahamut let out a soft, contented chuckle, her tail giving a final, lazy flick against his leg. "There’s no comparison. Not even close."
As the moon began its slow descent toward the horizon, the two of them drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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