18+⚠⚠
The air in the room grew colder the moment Jean was slammed onto the bed. Yet Rai only watched, holding back. His eyes roamed over Jean's bare skin, as if committing every detail to memory—the mole on his collarbone, the faint scratch marks on his chest, every inch of his delicate body. Jean was a pretty boy with amber eyes that made Rai fall again and again.
Rai stepped back from the bed. Jean arched his back slightly, pressing his arms down, trying to cover himself with the silk sheet.
"Don't," Rai commanded softly.
"Why are you stepping back?" Jean asked, confusion and longing mixing in his voice.
Rai's lips curled into a slow smile. "Worshiping."
Jean's cheeks flushed deeper, his pale neck blooming with heat.
Rai moved toward the left and opened a hidden cabinet built into the wall. He pulled out a silver leg restraint bar and a black ribbon. Jean's eyes widened in surprise.
"That's—" Jean began, but Rai silenced him with a finger pressed gently over his lips.
"Shhh," Rai whispered, leaning in so close their breaths mingled. "Now, the only thing you'll scream for… is my name."
Before Jean could reply, Rai pinned him down—hands secured above his head. Rai's tongue traced from Jean's belly button to his neck, and Jean barely noticed when his wrists were bound. Rai's mouth on his neck was intoxicating, like licking a popsicle, eliciting soft moans from Jean.
"You love getting pinned down, don't you?" Rai teased, smirking as he maintained eye contact.
Jean's silent signal was clear—he wanted more. Rai obeyed, spreading Jean's legs wide and sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of his thigh, drawing blood. Jean shivered at the sting, instinctively trying to close his legs, but Rai wouldn't allow it.
Rai grabbed the cold black bar and locked it around Jean's legs. The chill spread through him, sharp but thrilling. Jean didn't want to stop. He craved the sin, the surrender.
Rai secured the restraints and stretched Jean's legs wider.
"Ahh!" Jean gasped.
Rai's voice was low and teasing. "It can get even wider. Want to see?"
"Perv—!"
Chk!
"Ah! Ah! It's too much! You… fuc—"
Jean's legs were spread impossibly wide, his entrance fully exposed. His protests dissolved as Rai slipped between his thighs, his going in smoothly.
Jeans breath hitched. His back arched, hands tied over, his eyes fell on the ceiling mirror, seeing himself. Defenseless, bare, and getting consumed. Rai between his thighs, savoring every little drop inside of him. The view gave chills.
Jean's fingers curled into the sheets above his head, his bound wrists straining against the ribbon. The helplessness made his pulse race.
"Rai—" His voice cracked, torn between pleading and daring. His eyes still on the mirror above.
Rai's hands gripped the bar between Jean's legs, keeping him perfectly in place. " Darling," he murmured against his skin, the vibration sending shivers up Jean's spine. "I'm not done here yet."
Jean squirmed, but Rai's hold was unyielding. His mouth traced unhurried circles lower, teasing without giving in. Every sucking was maddening, and electrifying.
"You're shaking," Rai observed, his tone both taunting and reverent. "Do you want me to stop?"
Jean's head snapped in a frantic shake. "No—don't"
That smirk returned. Rai's tongue slipped deeper, drawing out a gasp so loud Jean bit his lip to contain it. The sharp press of teeth against flesh had Rai chuckling darkly.
But Jean didn't only want the mouth. He wante more. Something that fills his hole upto his stomach. He wants something warm.
Jean's body arched, his restraints creaking under the strain as pleasure and frustration tangled in his veins. Rai's pace built—slow enough to keep Jean begging, hard enough to break down his resistance.
Jean barley breathing, " I want ...something else. "
Rai got up. The smug face, Rai knows what Jean wants. " Got a impatient boy here."
Rai gulped all the cum, " Sweet. "
Jean didn't need lube, he was already as wet as Rai can insert his full length in.
They both groaned in pleasure. Every push drove the air from Jean's lungs, every pull made him clench tighter around Rai, dragging him deeper each time. The restraints forced him open, unable to curl in or hide, his body laid bare for Rai to take apart.
Rai's hands stayed firm on Jean's thighs, thumbs brushing the edges of the bar. "Look at you," he rasped, gaze locked on the way Jean took him in. "Every time I move, you get tighter. Like your body's begging me not to leave."
Jean's nails dug into the sheets, his bound wrists aching. "Rai—"
"Say it," Rai demanded, leaning down so their foreheads almost touched. His thrusts slowed, deepened, the kind that made Jean's toes curl and his vision blur.
Jean's lips trembled. "More."
That was all Rai needed. His pace quickened, hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm that sent heat flooding through Jean's veins. Every thrust was angled to hit exactly where Jean's breath caught, where his moans cracked into broken cries.
"You feel that?" Rai's voice was gravel, low and relentless. "That's me. Filling you. Owning you."
Jean's head tipped back, throat bared, his amber eyes glazed and wet. "Y-you're… too much—"
"You can take it." Rai's hand slid up to grip Jean's jaw, forcing his gaze forward. "You were made to take me."
The words slammed into Jean harder than the thrusts. His whole body shook, heat coiling deep inside, winding tighter with every snap of Rai's hips. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, punctuated by Jean's choked moans and Rai's ragged breaths.
And just when Jean thought he couldn't take another second, Rai pushed in so deep he saw white. The sensation was too much—too good—and it tore the climax out of him, his body convulsing around Rai as his cry broke into a sob.
Rai didn't stop. He rode out Jean's release, driving into the aftershocks until his own control frayed and snapped. With a guttural groan, he spilled into Jean, gripping him so hard his knuckles whitened.
For a moment, there was only their breathing—the soft, uneven rhythm of two bodies wrecked and clinging. Jean getting a full of him getting rammed. Which turned him even more.
"Darling," he murmured again, voice low and warm now, "you're everything I'll ever need to worship."
Jean's lips parted, but no words came—only the faintest, breathless smile.
Rai didn't stop that night.
Not when Jean's body trembled.
Not when his voice cracked into hoarse, broken cries.
Not until he'd driven him past the point of reason—until Jean's arms went limp against the bindings and his eyes glazed over with exhaustion and bliss.
He kept pushing, kept claiming, until Jean's stomach was full of his heat, every thrust marking him deeper. Jean burned—pain and pleasure tangled in a knot so tight he couldn't tell one from the other. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, skin slick with sweat, every nerve raw and alive.
And still Rai moved, slower now, but with a focus that bordered on reverence. Every touch, every thrust, was an act of possession and devotion all at once—his way of telling Jean that his body, his mind, his very soul belonged to him.
When Jean finally slipped into unconsciousness, Rai stayed above him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. His fingers traced lazy paths over Jean's flushed skin, memorizing the heat, the shape, the weight of him.
"You're mine," Rai whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "All of you. Always."
He untied the restraints with deliberate care, easing Jean's arms and legs down, massaging the marks they'd left behind. Then he pulled Jean into his chest, holding him as if he could shield him from the world—even if he'd just broken him in the most exquisite way.
And as Jean slept, Rai's eyes never closed. Devotion had turned into something sharper, darker.
An oath he'd never say aloud, but one he'd keep until the end.
*****
At the Chairman Windsor's Villa
The summons came without explanation, but Rowon already had a hunch why his father wanted him back from Thailand so suddenly.
He stood outside the heavy oak door of Aries Windsor's private office and knocked once.
Silence.
He knocked again. Still nothing.
With a quiet exhale, Rowon turned the brass handle and stepped inside.
Aries sat behind his desk — tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in casual home clothes that somehow made him look even more dangerous. Photos lay scattered across the polished surface, some in his hands, others tossed aside like garbage.
The man was a fortress of logic, except when it came to his family. Then, reason gave way to something colder.
"You finally decided to come back," Aries said, his voice deep enough to make the air feel heavier.
Rowon swallowed. "I was—"
"Speak the truth. Only."
A sharp thump cracked through the room as Aries dropped a photograph onto the desk.
Rowon's stomach turned.
It was him and Felton — bare-chested, tangled together on a bed in Phi Phi Island. Kissing. Intimate. And there were more. Some so explicit he looked away instantly.
Aries didn't glance at the images again. His eyes stayed locked on his son.
"I've never cared about your preferences," he said, voice low and deliberate. "But that doesn't mean I'll sit quietly while you go around kissing the dead."
Rowon flinched. "We're just… playing around. Nothing's going on between us, Dad. Really."
"Oh? Then where do you think I got these?"
"I… don't…"
"You don't know. Right?" Aries's tone cut like a blade.
He tapped Felton's image with one long finger. "This man is one of the heirs after Sage Brown."
Rowon's eyes snapped up. "No. He's just a bodyguard. Yeah, he and Sage are… close, but that's all—"
"Didn't Rai tell you about the Browns' family tree? After all he knows the best about 'that' family."
Rowon muttered under his breath, "That bastard."
Aries's mouth twisted. "Of course he didn't. Too busy screwing around."
He flicked through the photos once more. "These were taken by Apollo's spy. He's been watching Felton and Sage."
Rowon frowned. "Then how did you get them?"
"I knew something would go wrong the moment all the troublemakers ended up in the same place. I had my own people watching you and Rai. Be grateful they killed the spy. If they hadn't, you'd already be on his target list."
Rowon hesitated. "…Why would I be a target?"
Aries sighed, pressing a finger to Felton's picture again. "Apollo married his father. He wants an heir untouched by Sage — and he wants Felton for it. He won't tolerate interference. Don't get tangled with him, son. If you do, even I can't save you."
With that, Aries left the room, leaving Rowon in the cold silence.
He stared at the photographs. He told himself nothing serious was happening between him and Felton. And yet… the thought of walking away made his chest ache.
He pulled out his phone, almost dialing Felton's number — but stopped.
The screen lit up. Mr. Fox.
Rowon's lips twitched into an involuntary smile. "Felton—"
"Come out," the voice on the other end said.
"Do you even know where I am?"
A pause. Then, smooth and certain: "I know who you are, Mr. Windsor."
Rowon hung up and moved fast. By the time he slipped outside, the villa was silent — his father already went to his room.
Outside.There he was. Felton. Leaning against a black SUV, dressed in head-to-toe black, the night air curling around him like it belonged to him.
Rowon approached. Felton tilted his head, the faintest smile playing on his lips.
"Took you long enough," Felton said.
"Hah… and where did you come from, looking like this?" Rowon wanted to add looking this damn good, but held it back.
"Family dinner," Felton replied, almost hesitant.
"The Browns?"
A brief pause. Then,"Get in."
He opened the passenger door for Rowon without another word.
The night was still long as they drove off together.