Chapter 272: You’re not going to let me go, are you?

Damon remained motionless for a few seconds after realizing exactly where he was, his brain still trying to keep up with his body while a throbbing pain pulsed behind his eyes, as if each heartbeat echoed directly inside his skull, subtly reminding him of the choices of the previous night. The lingering taste of wine still seemed stuck in his throat, and his whole body carried that characteristic weight of someone who had not only drunk too much but had also completely surrendered to impulses that were now taking their toll. He breathed deeply, slowly, trying to adjust to the soft light filtering through the curtains, still partially hidden under the sheets, as if that were enough to protect him from the world—or at least from his own conscience.

The soft contact against his face was what finally brought him fully back to reality, and it wasn’t a small detail to be ignored or mistaken for anything else. The warmth, the softness, and the faint, familiar scent made him freeze for a moment before recoiling abruptly, lifting his face with an expression that mixed surprise and a very specific kind of recognition he was tired of experiencing. His eyes immediately met Morgana’s figure, still fast asleep, her hair spread across the pillow in an elegant mess, her slow, tranquil breathing a stark contrast to his chaotic state.

“Ah… it happened again~,” he murmured, running a hand over his face as he tried to reorganize his thoughts, though the slight smile that escaped betrayed that, despite the brutal hangover, there was a satisfaction he didn’t bother to completely hide.

Morgana responded with a low sound, almost a purr, like someone still floating between sleep and wakefulness, shifting slightly under the sheets as her body instinctively adjusted to his warmth beside her. Her eyes remained closed for a few more seconds, but her lips curved into a small, lazy smile, clearly aware of his presence even before she was fully awake.

“You’re awake~?” she murmured, her voice soft, drawn out by sleep, but laden with an intimate familiarity that made the question more of a gesture of closeness than simple curiosity.

Damon let out a small sigh, resting his head back on the pillow, this time careful with his position, as if every movement needed to be calculated to avoid further aggravating the throbbing pain in his head. He turned his face slightly towards her, observing her silently for a few seconds, as if assessing not only the moment, but everything it represented.

“I’m awake… unfortunately,” he replied in a low tone, laden with tired irony, but without any real trace of regret.

Morgana slowly opened one eye, blinking a few times until her vision adjusted to the room’s light, then turned her face toward his, still clearly too comfortable for any decisive movement. Her gaze swept over his face with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, as if she were analyzing his condition.

“You look awful,” she commented, without any ceremony, though the smile accompanying the sentence completely softened any possible offense.

Damon let out a small nasal laugh, closing his eyes for a moment while bringing his hand to his temple, massaging it lightly as if that might help somehow.

“I feel worse than I look,” he replied, opening his eyes again to meet hers. “Which, considering what you just said, isn’t a good sign.”

She chuckled softly, moving a little closer to him, enough to rest her head lightly on his shoulder, still in no hurry to get out of bed or even worry about the outside world.

“You’ve had too much to drink,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You too,” he retorted immediately.

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation, with a small, satisfied smile. “But I know how to handle it better.”

Damon arched an eyebrow, observing her with a slightly skeptical look.

“Ah, sure. That explains why you haven’t gotten out of bed yet.”

“I haven’t gotten out because I don’t want to,” she corrected, lifting her face slightly to meet his gaze, now more awake. “There’s an important difference there.”

He let out another low laugh, this time more relaxed, despite the evident discomfort he still carried.

“Convenient.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. On the contrary, there was something there that hadn’t existed the previous night, something calmer, more stable, as if, for a brief moment, they could simply exist without the weight of the responsibilities that inevitably awaited them outside that room.

But it didn’t last long.

Morgana was the first to sigh, the soft sound carrying a slight weight of returning reality.

“So…” she began, slowly running a hand over her face, as if shaking off the remaining sleepiness. “We still have a stepmother manipulating minds, a duke being controlled, and an entire duchy about to become an even bigger problem than it already is.”

Damon closed his eyes again for a second.

“I didn’t need to be reminded of that so soon.”

“Someone needs to.”

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning his face back to her.

“The letter I found… that wasn’t just theory. That’s being used.”

Morgana nodded slowly, her gaze becoming more focused, further from the relaxed state of seconds ago.

“I know,” she replied softly. “And if she’s already at that level… then this goes far beyond just domestic control.”

Damon was silent for a moment, absorbing it.

“She wants more,” he finally said.

“She always has,” Morgana replied without hesitation.

The atmosphere shifted.

Subtly.

But it shifted.

They were still in the same bed, still close, still with the remnants of the previous night present in every detail, but now there was something more—purpose.

Damon let out a long sigh before finally sitting up in bed, running a hand over his face once more.

“I need something for this headache.”

Morgana watched him for a second before smiling slightly.

“There’s a kitchen downstairs,” she said. “And, if we’re lucky, Ingrivid should have already prepared something.”

Damon grimaced slightly.

“I hope it includes something strong.”

“For the hangover or for the situation?”

He glanced at her sideways.

“Both.”

She laughed, propping herself up on her elbows as she watched him.

“Go ahead,” she said. “I’ll get ready and meet you later.”

Damon nodded slowly, rising with a little more effort than he’d like to admit, still feeling the weight of the previous night in every movement, but already beginning to compose himself.

Before leaving, he felt her hand… “Hey… we could~” She said, opening her legs and revealing her wetness…

“Oh god… what am I going to do with you~” He said, smiling.

Damon took a deep breath, still looking to the side, before finally turning his face to her. The look she gave him was enough to send a shiver down his spine, even with the proximity.

“I shouldn’t,” he murmured, even though his voice carried little or no real trace of conviction. “We have too many things to deal with right now…”

She moved slowly, lifting her face to get closer to his, her eyes already shining with a warmth he knew all too well.

“You will,” she said, her voice soft, almost hypnotic. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a moment first.”

He was silent for a moment, his breathing already becoming heavier.

“There’s no way I could say no to you, is there?” he murmured, moving even closer until their lips almost touched.

“No,” she replied with a slight smile, before finally closing the distance between them and kissing, the taste still mixing the traces of the previous night with something more active, more eager.

Damon responded without hesitation, his lips moving against hers with an urgency that didn’t hide how much he needed this now, as if it were the only way to alleviate the weight of what was to come.

He moved, almost without thinking, until he was lying on top of her again, his body adjusting to hers in a way that already felt natural, even after all the time they had spent together. His hands traced her curves with a familiarity that no longer needed hesitation, descending to her hips until they found her soft, already warm skin, the dampness showing how much she was also eager for this.

And it wasn’t just him who wanted it. Her hand went to his hair, gripping it tightly as she returned the kiss with the same intensity, her legs opening to make him comfortable between them, as if they already knew exactly where they should be.

There was a heat between them, something that went beyond the physical, but which still maintained the same strength when they were in situations like this. Damon moved his hands to her hips, gripping them firmly as he began to move, thrusting in and out at a slow, controlled pace, as if he wanted to savor every moment.

Morgana arched her back, a low sigh escaping as she shifted to meet him, her hands moving to grip his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin with a force that mixed pain and pleasure in a way that was as familiar to him as his own breath.

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