[BL] Oops! I Seduced My Sister's Fiance (And Now I'm Pregnant)

(Author’s Note:

Dear readers,

I sincerely apologize for the confusion. Due to a posting error, Chapters 128 and 129 were uploaded in the wrong order. I have corrected the issue and made the necessary adjustments to ensure the story flows as intended.

Thank you for your patience, understanding, and continued support. I truly appreciate every one of you and hope you enjoy the Chapter.)

Chapter 129: Rut

I don’t move.

The danger signals are firing in my head, loud and sharp, but my legs stay open on the sheets. I don’t run. I just lie there, my hands flat against the mattress, watching him.

The last of his clothes hit the floor with a soft thud.

Then I see it.

My breath catches in the front of my throat, my eyes widening at the sheer size of Bael’s erection. It is thick, dark-veined, and already dripping heavy drops of clear fluid directly onto the dark sheets.

My stomach does a violent flip. It is a mix of sudden, heavy want and mild panic.

I have seen him like this countless times, but never with this look in his eyes. Never with this specific predatory focus. Something about today feels completely different.

The dim evening light catches the wet sheen at the tip of his length, and the mere sight of it makes my lower stomach ache with a dull, throbbing weight.

I try to slide my hips back on the mattress, my elbows slipping against the smooth fabric as I try to find room to breathe, my skin prickling from the sheer intensity of his gaze.

Bael doesn’t let me.

He catches my ankles instantly.

His grip is heavy and certain and he pulls me back to the edge of the bed in a single smooth drag that leaves me with absolutely no dignity and both my protests dying somewhere in my throat.

He settles his knees between my thighs, blocking out the rest of the room. His broad chest looms over me like a shadow, trapping me completely beneath his frame.

He doesn’t just shove himself inside. He takes his right hand, his fingers still wet with the mixture of my cum and sleek from before, and presses two long fingers straight back into my opening.

”Uhm! Bael—”

My tight walls stretch open with a wet, squelching sound. I whine, my fingers digging into the mattress, my face burning hotter than before as Bael uses his thumb to rub the white cum around the rim to make it slicker. He applies a firm, circular pressure, forcing the tight ring of muscle to yield to his touch.

His eyes are completely dark, fixed on the puckered skin as he forces me to open for him. The wet heat of his fingers moving inside me makes my hips twitch involuntarily, slick leaking out over his knuckles.

Then Bael lines the thick, hot head of his cock right against my opening.

He presses down slowly.

The extreme heat makes me gasp out loud, my eyes watering as the skin stretches painfully tight. The sheer width of him feels staggering, a heavy, unyielding mass that refuses to accommodate my tightness gently.

Bael doesn’t rush, but he doesn’t stop either. He places both of his hands firmly on my hip bones, pinning me down with a heavy, bruising pressure so I can’t twist away and hurt the baby. His palms are scorching hot, sinking into my flesh like weights.

Then he drives himself all the way in.

It is one long, unyielding thrust that sinks him straight to the root.

My head snaps back into the pillow. My mouth flies open in a silent scream before a high, broken whimper finally rips from my throat.

My stomach feels impossibly tight, impossibly warm, every nerve ending lit up and screaming, and he hasn’t moved yet, he’s just *there*, his chest heaving against mine, his breath hot and ragged against my ear while my body shakes around him trying to adjust to the sheer size of him.

Then Bael leans down, his mouth brushing right against my wet earlobe.

”Look how tight you are.” He whispers in a low, gravelly growl that vibrates straight down my spine. ”You’re gripping me so hard, Runze.” A pause. His lips brush the shell of my ear, his hot breath sending a violent shiver through my limbs. ”Did you miss your alpha this much?”

I can’t even form words. My hands clutch his bare, muscular shoulders as Bael begins to move.

The first thrust drives the air out of my lungs completely.

He keeps his lower body anchored, controlled, weight distributed away from my stomach, but everything else... every other part of him... moves without restraint.

Each stroke is deep and heavy and deliberate, the drag and push of it creating a wet, rhythmic sound that fills the room and makes my face burn. The slick friction between our bodies grows louder, a slick, squelching mess that makes it impossible to ignore what we are doing.

The friction building with every motion until I’m gasping with each thrust, my hips moving against him involuntarily, chasing and retreating at the same time because I don’t know what I want except more and also possibly for this to stop before I completely cease to exist as a coherent person. My internal walls are completely raw, catching on the heavy ridge of his shaft with every single pull.

It doesn’t stop.

Bael rolls his hips on the next thrust and hits something that makes my back arch clean off the mattress. It is a deep, blinding spot that sends a jolt of pure electricity straight to my core.

”Nngh! Argh...”

I cum without warning, clenching hard around him, my whole body locking up as the pleasure crashes through me in a wave that wipes every thought from my head. The white fluid spills blindly across my own stomach, my thighs trembling as the intense spasms wrap tightly around his buried cock.

Bael doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, he just watches my face through it with those dark, focused eyes and keeps moving, working me through it and past it until the oversensitivity tips back into want again and I’m already climbing toward the next one.

Every heavy thrust against my pulsing, oversensitive walls makes me sob out loud, the pleasure turning into a sweet, overwhelming torture.

”Bael... Bael, wait, slow down—”

”Hmm... don’t want to.”

He shifts the angle slightly, driving even deeper, his thick length grinding hard against the exact spot that just broke me.

I lose the sentence entirely.

The second time hits harder than the first, my thighs shaking, his name coming out of my mouth in pieces, and I’m distantly aware that I am making an enormous amount of noise and I cannot make myself care about that at all.

My fingers tear at the sheets, my head tossing from side to side as the heat in my lower body builds into another frantic, pacing fire.

Then something changes.

I feel it before I understand it.

The room is already full of his scent... that clean, familiar smell that I have spent weeks pretending I don’t notice the absence of... but suddenly it shifts.

Deepens. Turns into something so thick and overwhelming that it hits my chest like a physical weight, something dark and saturating that bypasses rational thought entirely and goes straight to every instinct I have.

The smell becomes violently sweet, heavy, and suffocatingly dominant, filling my lungs until I can taste it on the back of my tongue.

My eyes snap open.

Bael’s skin is burning hot under my hands. Hotter than before, hotter than makes sense, like something internal has been turned up past its normal setting. Sweat is pouring off his brow, dripping down onto my collarbone, his breathing turning into a ragged, animal sound.

The rhythm of his hips hasn’t changed but the *quality* of it has... there’s something more territorial in it now, something that presses me into the mattress with more intent than mechanics.

Every slam of his hips feels like a claim, a violent demand for total submission that makes my inner walls squeeze him in pure instinct.

I know this, I know what this is.

*He’s in rut.*

”Bael,” I gasp out, the name slipping past my wet lips like a plea.

”...Don’t move.”

His voice is rough, strained. Like he’s holding something back by pure force. The muscles in his neck are corded, his jaw clenched so hard I can hear his teeth grind.

I go very still beneath him.

Then Bael lifts his head. His eyes are darker than I have ever seen them. The gray in his irises has completely vanished, swallowed up by blown-out, pitch-black pupils that look entirely feral.

He isn’t fully gone...he is still Bael, still present...but something has been turned up past its usual setting. There is nothing measured or controlled about the way he is looking at me now.

Before I can think about what that means, Bael kisses me again to drown out my thoughts.

His tongue slams deep into my mouth, sweeping through ruthlessly, taking everything I have. It is a bruising, desperate kiss, his teeth catching on my lips, tasting the iron tang of a small scratch as he devours me completely.

His hips keep up that heavy, punishing rhythm, driving me to the very edge of sanity.

It’s not controlled. It’s relentless and heavy and the sound of it fills the room while my hands clutch him and my head tips back and rational thought dissolves into pure white sensation. The continuous friction is blinding, blurring my vision until the bedroom disappears around us.

I cum again somewhere in the middle of it, my body snapping like a bowstring as the white heat spills out all over again.

Then again, barely recovered from the last one, my thighs twitching helplessly while his mouth stays glued to my throat, his hands holding my hips with bruising certainty, anchoring me for his heavy, deep strokes.

When Bael finally hits his limit, he doesn’t pull back. He presses so deep I feel the thick head of him everywhere, bottoming out against the deepest part of me, burying himself to the absolute maximum.

His teeth close on my shoulder.

It isn’t a full claiming bite, but it is close enough that my whole body lights up like it was, a sharp bolt of electricity shooting straight down to my thighs.

He lets out a deep, animal grunt as he unloads a heavy, burning torrent of cum inside me. The sheer volume of the hot fluid rushes inside me, filling me until it overflows, leaking out onto the sheets beneath us.

When it’s over, Bael doesn’t move.

He collapses forward, his full weight pressing me flat into the mattress.

Heavy. Warm. His face buried in my neck, his breathing slowly evening out against my skin while the thick wave of his scent wraps around the room like something physical. The air is warm and heavy, completely saturated with the smell of our scents, sweat, and spilled sex.

I stare blankly into the dark room, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath, my muscles vibrating with a deep, liquid exhaustion.

My last coherent thought before my brain goes completely under:

So this wasn’t just want. He was approaching rut, that’s what this was. That’s all this was.

(Once again, I want to apologize for the mix-up with Chapters 128 and 129. The Chapters were accidentally uploaded out of order, which may have caused some confusion while reading. I’ve corrected the issue and made the necessary adjustments.

Thank you for your patience and understanding. I truly appreciate your support, comments, and continued investment in this story. Your encouragement means a lot to me, and I’ll do my best to avoid similar mistakes in the future.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy what comes next!)