Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]-Chapter 329: The Wedding Night Kidnapping

"My one and only princess—may this humble servant have permission to escort you?"

"H-huh?"

Rocco’s heart thumped at the unexpected gesture.

Staring down at the overly cool pose, he found himself both flustered and captivated.

Almost on instinct, his hand moved—and before he even realized it, his small fingers had settled lightly in Laxus’s hand.

Wha—?! Since when had he grabbed Laxus’s hand?!

"Thank you, Rocco," Laxus said with a warm smile. "Truly, thank you for accepting me."

Blushing furiously, Rocco gave a tiny nod in an attempt to hide his nervousness.

Laxus gently but firmly helped him to his feet, and then began leading him forward with confident steps.

Rocco quickly try to keep up as they made their way out of the guest room, down a quiet shortcut, and toward the back entrance of the estate.

Wait... were they really going home without everyone else?

Rocco anxiously glanced back over his shoulder, clearly unsure.

Noticing this, Laxus stopped and knelt once again before him, looking him in the eyes.

"Don’t worry, Rocco," he said gently. "I’ve already spoken to everyone. Your father and Sylas asked me to make sure you got home safely."

Rocco blinked his eyes in surprise. When had that conversation happened? He hadn’t noticed anything like that at all.

He briefly wondered how anyone could’ve managed to talk during all that tension... but then promptly decided not to think too hard about it. If Laxus said so, then it must be true. Yep. That was good enough for him.

"Oh, I see! In that case, no problem. Let’s go home together," Rocco said with a nod, completely satisfied.

Just as Rocco was about to step into the Del Fiore-owned carriage, he was suddenly tugged backward by Laxus.

"Whoa!" he yelped, nearly stumbling, but Laxus caught him firmly.

Rocco blinked up at him, confused.

Laxus’s brows were drawn together in an oddly conflicted expression, like someone about to say something difficult.

What now? Why the troubled face?

"...Rocco, listen carefully," Laxus said seriously. "If a shady adult tries to sell you a vase, don’t buy it. And if someone you don’t know offers you candy, don’t go with them. Actually—just don’t trust anyone but me."

"Huh? Umm... got it! Message received, sir!"

"...I’m not sure you actually got it..."

Rocco nodded his head earnestly anyway, even though he didn’t quite follow.

Laxus still looked mildly worried, but Rocco decided to ignore that.

What was with the vibe, treating him like some clueless kid? Hmph.

With a slight pout, Rocco climbed into the carriage and sat down with a little "hmph" noise, his cheeks puffed out in defiance.

He settled into his usual spot—a fluffy, modified seat Laxus had apparently customized just for him.

Like a trampoline, it bounced softly under his small frame.

Across from him, Laxus watched with a meltingly sweet smile that lingered the entire ride.

"Hmm?"

The carriage suddenly came to a stop.

Curious, Rocco peered out the window—and blinked in confusion.

The scene outside wasn’t what he had expected at all.

Maybe the coachman had gotten the instructions wrong?

He tilted his head, then turned to Laxus, who was seated across from him.

"Laxus, I think the coachman messed up. This isn’t my house. This is your mansion."

Outside stood the Del Fiore estate, glowing silver in the moonlight, casting a serene and almost magical atmosphere.

According to what Laxus had told him, they were supposed to go to the Di Malvento estate first—his home—before parting ways.

So arriving here first had to be a mistake. Obviously!

But Laxus’s response was... unexpected.

"Ah, looks like we’ve arrived," he said with a gentle smile. "Come on, Rocco. Let’s get out."

"Huh?"

Before Rocco could protest, Laxus gracefully reached out and took his hand again.

Instinctively, Rocco followed and stepped out of the carriage.

Still not understanding the situation, he was led out into the night.

Then, with a smile that was both tender and teasing, Laxus turned to him and said, "Well then, Rocco—since today is the day our marriage was approved, it’s a special anniversary. I doubt you’ll be able to sleep tonight... but sorry, you’ll just have to deal with it."

"Wha—!?"

Rocco reeled in shock, unable to keep up with the unexpected twist.

But before he could say anything more, Laxus swept him up in his arms without a word and carried him straight into the mansion.

...

"—Hauh! Hyehh!!"

"Aaah, come on. Rocco, don’t hide your face. Show me that adorable, messy little expression of yours, hmm?"

The arms Rocco had crossed in front of himself were effortlessly pulled away, leaving his tear-streaked, sweat-drenched, and drool-slicked face fully exposed.

At such a close distance, he was being stared at intently—no, devoured by Laxus, his twisted smile was brimmed with a kind of manic joy.

That gaze never wavered, never strayed, as if Rocco were the only thing that existed in the world.

How had it come to this?

He remembered being dragged—almost kidnapped—into the bedroom by Laxus.

Everything from that point became a blur of overwhelming sensations.

He’d been tossed onto the bed, then assaulted by an endless barrage of kisses.

While Laxus’s thick tongue explored every inch of his mouth, those large hands swiftly stripped away Rocco’s clothes...

By the time he realized he was completely naked, it was already too late—his entire body had been melted down into a trembling, soaking mess.

Flushed red from head to toe and panting heavily, he looked up to see Laxus smiling at him with his handsome face, it could only be described as devilish.

Then Laxus spoke, in a voice dripping with wicked sweetness, "What do you want me to do? Go ahead and beg me, my beloved wife."

Rocco’s unresisting legs were lifted, and Laxus immediately rubbeb his hard penis against the Rocco exposed pink entrance as if he wants to tempted him.

A wet, obscene sound echoed through the stillness of the room—kchu—and in that instant, Rocco’s instincts screamed that it would be easier to just let his mind go blank.

The embarrassment was so unbearable.

Staying even remotely composed in a moment like this felt torturous.