Echo of The End

[R-18]

 

Novius's POV

The gentle sway of the carriage barely registered anymore. I sat slumped against the cushioned seat, eyes half-closed, lost in the weight of the day’s burdens.

My thoughts wandered aimlessly, tangled in half-finished conversations, matters of court, and the inspection. It had been another exhausting day, and the dim flicker of lanterns passing outside the window only deepened the haze of my weariness.

The carriage stopped for a moment, and I heard the estate’s familiar metal gates open. The subtle shift in the carriage’s motion roused me, though my body still felt heavy, each movement deliberate, slow. The familiar sight of the manor came into view, its silhouette a comforting presence in the dark, but it wasn’t the grand structure that caught my eye.

'She’s waiting.'

A smile tugged at my lips, the events of the day fading to the back of my mind as I registered the figure of Xironia, standing under the lantern lights in the dead of night. Her presence alone was enough to ease the tightness in my chest.

I waited for the carriage to be fully stopped, leaving the rest to the driver. As soon as it settled, I stepped out, trodding with a fatigue I could no longer feel, the smile still lingering as I approached her.

Xironia stood, leaning against a pillar, her silhouette graceful as always, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Took your sweet time," she muttered when I reached the first step, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the teasing tone.

Before I could respond, she moved away from the pillar, her steps soft and deliberate. She closed the distance between us before I could even reach her, pressing herself against me, arms wrapping around my body as she rested her face against my chest.

"Welcome back," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The tension in my shoulders melted as her embrace softened the mental strain that had been clawing at me all day. Physically, I could push through anything—but mentally, the work of a duke was taxing in ways only she could soothe.

We stood there for a moment, in the quiet, our arms locked around each other. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple, her scent familiar and grounding.

"Let’s go in," I murmured, my voice lighter now, the exhaustion ebbing with each passing second in her presence. She loosened her grip but didn’t let me go entirely. Her hand slid into mine, fingers intertwining naturally as she led me through the halls.

The warmth of the estate greeted us, and I followed her, our steps perfectly in sync, no words needed. Just the quiet comfort of being home with her.

Soon, we reached the familiar wooden doors of our indoor onsen. The scent of steam and cedar drifted faintly in the air. Xironia stopped just before them, her hand still lightly resting on my arm, reluctant to let go.

"Go in, take a dip. I’ll bring the clothes," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness. Her fingers slipped from my skin, the lingering touch leaving a warmth behind, almost teasing in its absence. She smiled before turning, her graceful steps echoing in the hall as she disappeared from view.

With a deep breath, I pushed the door open, the soft creak greeting me as I stepped inside. The onsen was a shared space—open to the entire household, from the maids to the butlers—though it was often vacant. It wasn’t unusual for us to have it to ourselves at night.

In the changing room, I undressed quickly, the day’s burdens peeling away with each discarded layer. I wrapped a white towel around my waist, feeling the cool fabric against my skin, and then moved toward the warm water.

The air was thick with steam, the water reflecting the soft glow of the luminous artifacts hung along the walls. I could hear the gentle trickle of water spilling over the stones, the only sound in the otherwise still room.

Stepping in, I let the hot water engulf me, its heat sinking into my tired muscles. I closed my eyes, leaning back, feeling the weight of the day dissolve in the warmth. The steam swirled around me, each rising tendril dissolving another layer of tension. My breaths slowed, deepened, until the noise of the world outside became a distant hum, drowned in the comfort of the heated water.

I waited for her, knowing she would join me soon, the quiet anticipation only adding to the sense of calm that was slowly settling over me. I knew that smile of hers all too well. There was no way she wouldn’t come. And sure enough, the door to the onsen slid open, followed by the soft patter of her feet on the warm floor. The water shifted gently, announcing her presence. I leaned back, feeling the familiar ripple in the pool, and there she was.

Xironia.

Her blonde hair, typically neat, was now loosely tied in a rough bun, leaving strands cascading down her neck. My gaze was immediately drawn to the graceful curve of her fair skin, illuminated by the soft light in onsen. Her neck, bare and inviting, stirred something primal within me. I lingered on the sight, and I knew she felt my eyes on her.

Her lips curved ever so slightly, the barest hint of a smile that danced at the corners, as if she knew the game had already begun. Her half-lidded eyes glanced down at the water, drawing my gaze with them. It was as if I were tethered to her, powerless to resist. My eyes followed, from the bare slope of her shoulders down to where the towel clung to her curves. The water, warm and rippling, made it difficult to see beneath the surface, but I tried anyway. The soft fabric of the towel drifted just below her chest, revealing the faintest glimpse of her cleavage, tempting and tormenting all at once. Her body shifted closer, the movement of the water bringing us together until our legs brushed against each other, her soft thighs brushing mine under the water.

I wanted to savor the moment, to simply admire her, but my body betrayed me. A slow-burning heat coiled in my stomach, an unrelenting need that throbbed with each heartbeat, pushing me toward her. Xironia caught my expression, her lips curling into that knowing smile. She knew. She knew how much I craved her.

“A warm bath is really soothing,” she said with a playful lilt, eyes flicking up to meet mine, “makes you forget all your fatigue.”

I chuckled softly, my arm already wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer. "I don’t think it’s the water," I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers, "but I also don’t think it matters either."

"Indeed." Her breath hitched as her fingers brushed against my face, her palms cupping my cheeks with a tenderness that always unraveled me. Her lips hovered just inches from mine, so close I could feel the warmth of her breath. "It doesn’t matter," she whispered.

The moment her lips brushed against mine, I lost the last vestiges of control. Our lips met, and the world collapsed into that single touch, her warmth spreading through me like fire beneath my skin. My hand slipped beneath the water, finding her thigh, kneading the smooth skin as I pulled her even closer, deepening the kiss. Her body responded in kind, her lips parting to let me in, her breath mingling with mine.

Somewhere in the haze of it all, The towel drifted away, unnoticed, leaving her skin bare and glistening in the soft lantern light, every curve more intoxicating than the last. When we finally broke apart, I saw her fully—bare, vulnerable, yet so utterly captivating. Her skin glistened with the faint sheen of water, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her breasts exposed as tried to move closer. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her. The sight of her collarbone, heaving with her breath, her breasts moving hypnotically, and the soft pink of her areolas stirred a heat deep within me. It was a sight meant only for me, and my hands reached out instinctively, pulling her flush against me.

Her body arched into mine, our skin meeting like the clash of fire and water, every brush of her warmth sending sparks through me. My gaze trailed lower, no longer willing to leave anything unexplored. Her slim, perfect stomach, the curve of her hips, and the teasing glimpse of her nethers, just barely above the waterline, called to me, her body half out of the water, as if beckoning me closer—inviting me to claim her, to lose myself in her entirely.

And I did.

A low growl rumbled from my chest as my hands found her hips, the smoothness of her skin beneath my fingertips making my pulse quicken. Her weight was nothing to me as I lifted her from the water, her body fitting perfectly into my grasp, and placing her gently on the smooth, heated stone floor. Her eyes, flushed and full of desire, locked with mine as I stood before her. Her legs pressed tightly together, her body trembling with anticipation.

She waited, patient and yet expectant, as I moved to be right in front of her.

This moment was ours.

I placed my hands gently on her knees, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my palms. I leaned in and kissed each knee softly, feeling her body respond, her legs parting ever so slightly. It was like I was slowly unlocking something sacred, each kiss drawing her open a little more, inviting me further in. I trailed kisses along the length of her thighs, savoring the soft sighs that escaped her lips with every touch.

Each kiss brought me closer to her center, her legs spreading with each gentle press of my lips. Her thighs quivered, tightening around me as I tasted her, each shudder of her body sending a pulse of heat between us, the tension winding tighter with every soft sigh that escaped her lips. Xironia was always playful, always teasing, but watching her like this stirred something deep in me. She was vulnerable, exposed in a way she rarely allowed herself to be, only to me.

My lips grazed the smooth skin of her inner thighs, sending a shudder through her body. A barely muffled moan escaped her as my breath, hot and teasing, traced a delicate path over her skin, warm against her skin. Her scent enveloped me, a heady mixture that made my breath catch. My pulse quickened, and I could feel the primal pull it had on me, clouding my mind with desire. Without waiting any longer, I gently pushed her legs further apart. A small, surprised yelp escaped her, but I was already leaning in, lost in the moment.

"Look at you," I murmured, my voice low and teasing, "it rained down here?" My lips curled into a teasing smile, one that Xironia caught in an instant. Her eyes flashed with playful indignation, but I saw the corners of her mouth twitching, as though fighting the urge to smile back, a retort forming on her tongue, but before she could say a word, I silenced her with a long, deliberate lick along her slick folds.

Her reaction was immediate, her body arching as a moan spilled from her lips. The sound was raw, needy. I flicked my tongue, savoring her unique taste—a sweet, earthy heat that lingered on my lips. Each shiver that rippled through her body was like a silent plea, pulling me deeper into her with every quiver of her flesh. Her hands reached down, fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer, desperate for more.

I pressed in deeper, my tongue teasing her delicate folds, each motion deliberate, savoring the way her breath hitched. Xironia’s body responded instinctively, her hips arching closer, seeking more, her fingers tightening in my hair, guiding me with an unspoken plea.

A tremor coursed through her, her muscles tightening beneath my hands. A soft moan escaped her lips, and I could feel every delicate tremble as her body surrendered to my touch, the heat between us rising with every passing second. I couldn’t get enough of the sweet sounds spilling from her lips, each moan driving me further into the abyss of desire. My hands gripped her thighs, keeping her open, exposed, vulnerable in the most intimate way.

“Novius…” she breathed, her voice trembling, breaking the silence between us. Her tone was soft but heavy, laced with a need she couldn’t disguise, no matter how much she loved to tease. Her body betrayed her playfulness, giving in to the pleasure that was rapidly overwhelming her.

I looked up briefly, catching the flushed look on her face—lips parted, eyes hazy with desire. It was a sight I could never tire of. I could see the tension in her body, the way she tried to hold back, to prolong the moment. But I wasn’t about to let her stay in control.

I circled my tongue around her sensitive spot, teasing it before sucking gently, eliciting another desperate moan from her. Her back arched off the floor, her head falling back as her fingers dug deeper into my scalp. I could feel her body tightening, the signs of her release approaching, but I wasn’t finished yet.

I pulled back slightly, leaving her gasping for air as I moved my hand to replace my mouth, my fingers sliding over her slick heat. Slowly, I entered her with one finger, then another, feeling the way her body welcomed me, her inner walls contracting around my touch.

“Don’t stop…” she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper, a desperate plea that sent a rush of satisfaction through me. I wouldn’t stop. Not until I had her completely undone.

I leaned back in, my tongue returning to its task while my fingers worked inside her, stretching, teasing. Xironia’s breathing grew ragged, her body trembling uncontrollably now. I could feel her nearing the edge, her moans louder, less controlled, as she teetered on the brink.

With one final flick of my tongue and a deep press of my fingers, she shattered. A long, drawn-out moan escaped her lips as her body convulsed, waves of pleasure rippling through her.

I kept moving, guiding her through the waves of her climax, not stopping until her body collapsed, spent and trembling on the floor. I looked at her and while licking her essence from around my lips I admired the sight, her flushed face and heaving body.

Restraint was far gone, with her legs spread I could see every spasm and twitch her nethers did, I climbed out of the water, and Xironia noticed my movement, her eyes locking on to mine as I came closer her lips parting, calling for mine.

I leaned over her, my lips brushing against hers in another passionate kiss. She moaned softly into my mouth, her hands reaching up to grab hold of me tightly. The sensation of her wetness beneath me made him throb even more. A groan escaped me, I felt my arousal growing by every passing second. Slowly, I began to grind my hips against hers, teasing her with the promise of what was to come. I could feel her slick folds against me through the towels.

“Tighter grip than I imagined,” Xironia murmured, her voice husky, her eyes locked on my towel with a knowing glint. In a swift motion, her fingers deftly pulled it away. "Sadly, we won’t be needing that, will we?" revealing his throbbing erection.

Her playful side emerged fully, a mischievous twinkle dancing in her jewel-like orange eyes. The look she gave me—so confident, so captivating—left me momentarily stunned, frozen under her spell.

Xironia smiled, aware of the effect she had on me. She lifted herself slightly, her movements smooth and deliberate. Her hands found their way to me, and her soft, slender fingers wrapped themselves around my shaft, giving it a few experimental strokes before guiding it towards her dripping entrance. She gasped feeling it press against her womanhood.

She spread herself wide for me with her other hand, her fingers parting her lower lips lips and I watched, entranced by the sight of her wet, pink folds parting to reveal her most intimate area.

"Novius," she whispered, snapping me out of the trance, her voice low and enticing, "Take me."

I slowly tore my gaze away with a gulp the sight— the way her entrance opened and closed enticingly drove me wild. Without another word, I moved my hips, rubbing the head of my cock against her sensitive nub. Every pass sent waves of pleasure coursing through both of them.

I moved my hips with deliberate slowness, teasing her wet folds, feeling her body tense beneath me as a sharp gasp escaped her lips. Her eyes narrowed playfully, a smirk tugging at her lips, and before I could push in further, her legs wrapped around me, pulling me into her without warning. The sudden heat of her, that velvety tightness enveloping me, sent a deep groan from my chest. I felt her shudder, Xironia let out a loud moan as she finally felt my cock breach her depths. 

"Don’t use your cultivation like that," I growled, the sensation overwhelming. But even as I spoke, I could feel my body surrendering to the pleasure, losing itself in her warmth.

Xironia was already lost in the throes of pleasure, her face reflecting pure ecstasy. 

Withdrawing slowly from Xironia's clenching depths, I relished the feeling of her slick walls gripping him tightly. I watched intently as my shaft slid back out, coated in her juices. I made sure that just the tip of my cock nestled against inside her before I thrust back in hard and fast. The sudden impact caused both of us to gasp sharply.

"Anh~!" a moan escaped her lips as I set up a steady rhythm then, pulling almost all the way out every time before slamming back into her welcoming heat with force. Each time I buried my cock deep within her, Xironia would scream out in pleasure. The only thing in my eyes right now was this beautiful woman and the harmonious voices she let's out every time my cock scrapes her insides.

I knew her body better than anyone, and could make her writhe in pleasure in mere minutes if I wanted. But that wasn’t how we played. We both relished the game—offering just enough hope before stealing it away in waves of overwhelming pleasure.

“Don’t… stop…” she managed between ragged breaths, her voice barely coherent. Her cries of delight spurred me on even more, driving me to fuck her harder and faster than before. The sound of our bodies slapping together echoed throughout the onsen, filling the air with an intoxicating scent of arousal.

This heat was different from the warm bath, it only happened between us two, and this wasn't replaceable, ever.

Her legs tightened around me, trying to limit my movements, but I wasn’t about to let her have control. With a smirk, I used my cultivation, breaking free of her grip while also taking my revenge. Even in the haze of pleasure, she tried to fight back, her inner walls contracting around me, milking me with every stroke, pushing me to the edge.

With her legs falling free. I seized the opportunity, grabbing her thighs and spreading them wide, increasing the intensity of my thrusts. Her body responded, her tight walls pulling me back in every time I withdrew, her moans turning into wild, uncontrollable screams.

“Gods, Nia, you feel so good…” I groaned, unable to contain myself. I hoisted her legs onto my shoulders, leaning in to spread her further, and from there, I applied everything I’d learned from our time together.

Every thrust was deliberate, striking her most sensitive spots. Her eyes widened and she couldn't hold back anymore. A loud scream echoed in the onsen, and she came undone underneath me. I always think I got used to her tightness but her convulsions prove me wrong, always, even now.

Within moments, Xironia climaxed, Her pussy clenched around my cock spasmodically as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure washed over her. She called out my name, her orgasm pushing me to the brink too. I gave one final, deep thrust, spilling myself inside her.

I could hardly move, the pleasure was so overwhelming, but her name escaped my lips, the only thing I could manage to say. In the haze of our climax, we clung to each other, whispering one another’s names, our bodies guiding each other through the aftershocks.

Her inner walls pulsed around me, milking me dry, and the sensation was too good to pull away from. We stayed entwined for a while, the warmth of the onsen and the intimacy of the moment a kind of bliss. After a long, lingering kiss, we finally separated.

“Haah…” Xironia sighed, her body flushed and glistening with sweat, her head resting against my chest. “I really needed that.”

I looked at her peaceful face, noticing her hair had come undone in the heat of our passion. She was breathtaking. I pulled her closer, my hands exploring her naked body until they found her soft, round buttocks. With a firm squeeze, I leaned in to tease her.

“Needed that? Just once?” I murmured.

As expected, my wife gave me a coy look, her cheeks flushed pink, making my heart race.

“A few more times,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. I couldn’t help but smile. My Xironia never changes, she is simply perfect.

Both of us indulged in our private dance of pleasure for no one knows how long but by the time we were done, Xironia needed me to support her while walk.

And I was proud of what I did to her. Very Proud.

With a smile, leaning on me, Xironia walked out of the onsen both of us wearing robes so we could sleep peacefully. I guided my wife to our bedroom.

Walking down with her clinging to me reminds me of when we first met, she really hasn't changed a single bit. Looking at her I can never not smile.

Thinking about how beautiful and lovely my wife is when we are alone we reached our room. With a creak, I opened the door of the room and entered.

"Da-Da"

The soft sound caught me by surprise, but I couldn't stop the wide smile that immediately spread across my face. "Al, how was your day, son?" I asked, my tone warm.

Alaric was lying on the bed, looking as if he had just woken up. His sleepy eyes blinked slowly as he raised himself into a sitting position, his small hands rubbing at his face.

Xironia climbed the bed, lay down on her side and hugged Alaric tightly.

"N-Nia, you will squeeze him into a paste" I had to say it out aloud because Alaric was squirming with how tight he was held.

Xironia blinked, surprised by her own grip, and loosened it with a soft smile. Alaric simply doesn't cry, it is very rare to see him wail unless it is not a stubborn demand of his. Even now, he just looked at me with that lazy, almost knowing expression, as if he were waiting for me to come and lay down beside him.

'My son is growing up well,' I thought looking at him.

I hadn’t realized it at first, but at some point, Alaric had outgrown his crib—not physically, of course. But in his mind, he had decided that the crib was no longer for him. One day, he’d discovered how to grip the edges and pull himself up. After many attempts—most of which ended in a tumble and a bump on his head—he had finally succeeded in climbing out. From that day onward, the crib was a thing of the past for him.

Eighteen months. That’s how long it had been since Alaric was born, and in that time, he had already become the best thing that had ever happened to me—along with Xironia, of course. Life had changed in ways I never imagined, and yet, I wouldn't trade a moment of it. I vividly remember every single moment I spend with these two but one that stuck to me too dearly was when Alaric took his first step...

---

I stepped out of the carriage just as dusk cast a golden glow over the manor. The day had been light, just a simple inspection, nothing more. As I walked along the paved path to the door, a faint smile crossed my face. The peace of this moment was something I’d grown to appreciate.

Pushing open the intricately carved wooden doors, I expected the usual bustle of servants preparing for the evening, but instead, the grand hall stood eerily empty. I frowned.

Usually, the sound of maids bustling and the faint murmur of conversation greeted me at this hour, but now, there was nothing. Just silence.

'Perhaps they’re preparing dinner,' I thought, brushing it off with a light shrug. But as I made my way toward the dining hall, I heard something—soft gasps, whispers, and a shuffling sound that tugged at me, urging me to follow.

I stepped into the room, and what I saw made me stop in my tracks.

There, surrounded by maids, butlers, and a visibly emotional Xironia, was Alaric—tiny, fragile, yet unmistakably determined. He was standing on his feet, wobbling as he took a step. My breath caught in my throat. He was walking. And I was fortunate enough to not miss it.

His first step was shaky, and I instinctively took a step forward, ready to catch him if needed, but his second step came, then a third. His tiny hands swayed as if balancing on the edge of an invisible tightrope, but he was moving forward, each step more deliberate than the last.

Alaric’s eyes met mine.

Xironia stood frozen, her face a mixture of pride and overwhelming emotion, her hands clasped tightly over her mouth, fighting back tears as she watched our son take his first steps. The maids and butlers were just as enraptured, eyes wide in awe, barely breathing as they witnessed this monumental moment.

My son was walking.

I blinked. Of course, I had anticipated this—he’d been pulling himself up using furniture for days now—but seeing it unfold right in front of me was something else entirely. A strange feeling stirred within me, pride, surprise, joy—it all mingled together, swelling in my chest.

Alaric’s tiny eyes locked onto mine again, and as if on cue, the room fell completely silent. Every head turned in my direction. The silence was deafening, yet filled with anticipation.

I couldn’t help but smile, nodding slightly toward Alaric, gesturing for others to watch him.

His steps faltered for a moment, but he pushed on, his movements growing quicker, almost too quick for his still-wobbly legs. He was excited now. Too excited to slow down.

In a few unsteady steps, Alaric reached me, his small hands grabbing the fabric of my coat, using it to keep himself upright. He squealed, then broke into a fit of laughter, his face lighting up with pure joy as he buried his face against my leg, hugging it tightly.

I crouched down, meeting his gaze, and was met with those adorable baby giggles, his mouth wide open in delight. He pushed himself up on tiptoes, wobbling dangerously for a moment, but before he could fall back onto the floor, I caught him, my hands supporting him as he stood.

"Well done, Alaric," I said, gently patting his small head.

The room finally exhaled. Xironia let out a soft, trembling sigh of joy, her emotions spilling over as tears of happiness welled in her eyes. I glanced at her, exchanging a smile, before turning my attention back to our son.

"Now, how about we play until dinner?" I said, chuckling as I saw the spark of excitement flare up in his eyes again. Alaric loved tinkering with his toys, but even more so, he loved having an assistant.

Alaric squealed again, his tiny hands reaching up toward me as if already knowing that the rest of the evening was going to be spent by his side.

---

As Duke, time was a luxury I rarely had. My days were packed with responsibilities and duties that left little room for leisure, but I tried my hardest to finish work early, eager to spend time with Alaric. It wasn't just about obligation—it was a feeling, a deep sense that I would regret missing too much of my little one's growth.

I'd already missed his first words. That stung more than I'd expected, a blow sharper than any I'd faced in battle or politics. But the ache was soothed soon after. Alaric, with his sharp mind, only took a few days of babbling before he called for me. The sound of "Da-Da" was the most soothing thing I'd ever heard. That same warmth bubbled up in me when I saw him take his first steps—those excited, jumpy little movements as he wobbled toward me. In that moment, I truly felt like the luckiest man alive.

I chuckled to myself, remembering those early days when Alaric had just started walking. Every time he toddled over to someone in the manor, tugging at their clothes, their work would come to a halt. The maids, the butlers—everyone would pause to watch him, captivated by his curiosity, and often end up entertaining him, much to his delight.

The entire household seemed quite attached to him, but there was one person in particular who became determined to serve him in future as his personal maid—Eirlys, a quiet and diligent maid. 

Once Alaric had started walking, it became his favourite pastime, wandering around until he tired himself out. One evening, in his quest to grab a toy he'd just fixed, he bumped into Eirlys. Normally, Eirlys was composed, hardly ever making mistakes, but the moment she heard Alaric try to say her name and apologize, her world seemed to shift.

"Airez Sowie," he'd said in his adorable baby lisp. The mispronunciation of her name and the mumbled apology were too endearing for her to resist. From that night on, she became determined to be his personal maid, practically making it her life's mission.

Her attachment to Alaric wasn't surprising. Alaric recognized her. After Xironia and me, Eirlys was probably the person he'd interacted with most in the manor. And while it was hard to believe someone as reserved as her could be so smitten, Alaric had that effect on people.

He really was different from other children. When Xironia first told me she was pregnant, I had been overwhelmed with nerves. I didn’t know the first thing about being a father, and the thought of it had weighed on me heavily. But over time, those worries had faded. Of course, the hardest part of fatherhood was still to come, but it didn’t seem like it would be as difficult as I'd once thought. Alaric was... special.

From the moment he was born, he’d been easy. He never cried when handed to the maids or butlers so that Xironia and I could eat. He would just observe them, those curious eyes wide and silent, taking everything in.

I glanced at him now, lying on the bed beside Xironia, his eyes blinking slowly in the haze of sleep. He had grown so much, yet I knew the road ahead would be full of even more surprises. One thing was certain: Alaric would continue to be anything but ordinary.