The Tyrant's Secret fetish-Chapter 95

Ye Jun

I woke up way too early with my face stuck to Ohm’s pillow that still smelled like him , and the first thing I did was panic because yeah, last night happened, I cried like a total idiot on his shoulder, and now I was wearing his oversized sweatpants that kept slipping down my hips every time I moved.

I didn’t even remember falling asleep, just that I’d been rambling about nothing while he kept rubbing my back and not pushing, and somehow that made everything feel worse and better at the same time. So I slipped out of bed before he could wake up and catch me looking all soft and pathetic, padded downstairs to his huge kitchen like some kind of criminal on the run, and started raiding the fridge because my stomach was growling and maybe if I made coffee or something it would look like I had my shit together instead of like I was about to bolt again.

I was standing there staring at the coffee maker like it was personally insulting me, trying to figure out which button didn’t look like it would explode, when I heard footsteps behind me and Ohm’s voice all sleepy and rough. "Morning. Are you trying to burn the place down already or what?"

I spun around so fast I nearly dropped the mug in my hand, and there he was, shirtless with his hair all messed up like he’d been dragged through a hedge, pajama pants hanging low on his hips in that unfair way that made my brain short-circuit for a second. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

God, he looked hot, like stupidly hot, and I hated how my stomach flipped because this was supposed to be practice sex, not whatever the hell this domestic morning crap was turning into.

"Shut up," I snapped, turning back to the coffee maker and jabbing at buttons randomly. "I’m making coffee, not committing arson. Go back to bed if you’re gonna be annoying about it." But he just laughed that low rumble that vibrated right through me and stepped closer, reaching around me to flick the right switch so the machine actually started gurgling instead of beeping like it was dying.

His bare chest brushed my back for half a second and I flinched hard, but then I didn’t pull away because his skin was warm and it felt way too nice after last night’s mess.

He didn’t move away either. Just stayed there, one hand on the counter next to me, and said, "You’re gonna poison us both if you keep messing with that. Sit down before you break something." I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt and shoved at his arm. "Oh please, like you’re some master chef. I can handle coffee, Ohm. I’m not a complete disaster." He snorted and opened the fridge, pulling out eggs and milk and stuff like he was actually gonna cook. "Yeah? Tell that to the toast you’re about to burn. I can smell it from here." I glanced over and yeah, the bread in the toaster was already smoking a little, so I yanked it out and tossed the slices on a plate with a dramatic sigh. "Fine, you win. Take over, Mr. Perfect. But don’t get used to this. I’m not your omega housewife or whatever."

Ohm grinned as he cracked eggs into a pan, the sizzle filling the kitchen while he flipped them like it was nothing. "Good, because your cooking might actually kill me. Sit down before you poison us both." I grabbed a piece of toast, took a huge bite, and stole a forkful of eggs right off his plate the second he slid it over, chewing loud just to annoy him. "These aren’t bad. For a clueless alpha who probably lives on takeout."

He swatted at my hand but missed on purpose, eyes all soft in that way that made my chest tight. "Hey, thief. Make your own plate if you’re gonna raid mine." But he pushed the whole thing closer anyway and watched me steal another bite, his hand brushing my lower back when he reached for the coffee pot. I flinched again, shoulders hunching up, but then I leaned into it without thinking, because his fingers were warm and careful and it felt like he was saying everything without saying anything.

We ate like that for a while, me stealing bites every time he looked away, him pretending to get mad but laughing under his breath, and the whole time I kept deflecting because if I didn’t the silence would eat me alive. "So uh, about last night," I said around a mouthful of eggs, voice all casual like I didn’t care. "We can pretend I didn’t turn into a sobbing mess, right? Like none of that happened and we just... I don’t know, had a normal night or whatever." Ohm set his fork down and looked at me straight on, that steady stare that always made me want to squirm. "I don’t want to pretend. You trusted me with something heavy. That means something." I groaned loud and dramatic, stabbing at the last of the eggs. "Oh my god, here we go with the deep shit again. It was just crying, Ohm, not a marriage proposal. Drop it before I throw this plate at your head."

He didn’t drop it. Of course he didn’t. He just reached over and brushed my lower back again, thumb rubbing a slow circle that made me want to both yell and melt. "I’m not gonna drop it. You came back last night even when you could’ve run. That’s not nothing." I stole another bite from his plate just to have something to do with my hands, chewing fast while my brain spiraled because why did his stupid nice-guy routine feel better than any orgasm ever could?

This was supposed to be practice sex, not whatever this is where I steal his food and let him touch my back like we’re some couple. "Whatever," I muttered, but my voice came out quieter than I wanted. "You’re making it weird again. Pass the coffee before I die of awkwardness."

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