Not Yours (BL)

Jonathan trembled as William slipped the robe from his shoulders, his breath hitching when strong hands traced along his skin.

"Relax," William murmured, pressing his forehead against Jonathan's. His voice was deep, coaxing, filled with a quiet dominance. "If you want to please me, let me do this."

Jonathan's lips parted, his pulse racing. Hesitation flickered in his eyes before he finally exhaled, tilting his head slightly. "Do as you wish," he whispered, his fingers brushing against the nape of William's neck, pulling him closer.

A satisfied smirk played on William's lips as he aligned himself, his movements slow but deliberate. As he pressed in, Jonathan gasped, his back arching instinctively. "Ahh… it's too much," he whimpered, gripping William's shoulders.

William cupped Jonathan's face, his thumb brushing against his flushed cheek. "You can take it," he assured, his tone both commanding and soothing.

Jonathan moaned as William began to move, each motion sending a shiver through his body.

Jonathan's body shuddered before his eyes fluttered shut. He had fainted.

William stilled for a moment, watching him with a mix of amusement and concern. "Hey," he called softly, pulling out and sitting back on the bed. His gaze fell on Jonathan's face—his eyes were damp, a few tears slipping down his flushed cheeks.

A smirk played on William's lips.

"How adorable," he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Jonathan's forehead. His voice was low, possessive.

"You are mine."

Morning

A knock echoed through the quiet room. William stirred awake, his arm draped over Jonathan's bare form. The knock came again, more insistent this time.

"Come in," William said, sitting up.

The maid entered, bowing respectfully. "Good morning, my lord. You have received an invitation to a tea party from Mr. Gottfried."

William ran a hand through his tousled hair. "When is it?"

"At 4 PM, my lord."

His eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. 8 AM. Plenty of time. "Alright. I will attend."

The maid nodded. "I shall prepare your suit."

As she turned, her gaze landed on Jonathan's bare form, half-hidden beneath the sheets. William caught her lingering glance and immediately pulled the blanket up, covering him. His expression darkened slightly as he looked at the maid.

"Bring me a towel and water," he ordered.

"Yes, my lord," she replied before quickly leaving the room.

William exhaled, glancing back at Jonathan, who remained fast asleep. A small smirk curled on his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from Jonathan's face.

"You really are mine," he whispered.

William gazed at Jonathan's sleeping form, a hint of amusement in his eyes. His breaths were soft and steady, his body completely at ease. He must be exhausted.

A knock at the door pulled William from his thoughts. The maid entered, carrying a towel and a basin of warm water. Without a word, William took them from her hands.

"Wait outside," he ordered.

"Yes, my lord." She bowed and stepped out.

With careful precision, William cleaned Jonathan, ensuring he was comfortable before pulling the blanket over him. His fingers lingered for a moment, brushing against Jonathan's flushed cheek.

Then, calling the maid back in, he instructed, "When he wakes up, make sure he eats something healthy."

"Yes, my lord."

Satisfied, William turned away and headed into the bathroom. Steam soon filled the air as he stepped under the hot water, letting it wash over him.

Moments Later

Jonathan stirred, his lashes fluttering as he slowly woke. A deep soreness settled into his body, making him wince as he shifted.

He blinked, glancing around. William was nowhere to be seen. His hand absentmindedly brushed over his skin—clean. Did he…?

The distant sound of running water reached his ears. His eyes flicked toward the bathroom.

His face burned.

Panicked, he quickly grabbed his clothes and scrambled to his feet—only to immediately regret it.

"Ahh… my back…" he groaned, rubbing the sore muscles as he hurried toward the door.

Just as he slipped out and retreated to his own room.

William stepped out, a towel draped loosely around his waist. His sharp gaze swept over the empty bed.

A smirk curled at his lips.

"He ran," he mused, amused.

William opened the wardrobe, selecting a crisp, elegant suit. He dressed swiftly, buttoning his shirt with practiced ease before adjusting his cuffs.

A knock at the door interrupted him.

"My lord, lunch is ready," the maid announced from outside.

Without looking up, William replied, "Bring Jonathan to the dining hall."

"Yes, my lord."

The maid bowed and left, making her way to Jonathan's room. She entered without hesitation, only to find him sitting on a chair, dressed in butler attire.

She frowned. "Lord William has requested your presence in the dining hall."

Jonathan adjusted his sleeves, his expression unreadable. "Understood."

The maid hesitated, eyeing him carefully. "You know… Lord William doesn't love you," she said quietly. "That's why he treats you like this."

Jonathan's hands stilled. He lifted his gaze, meeting hers with an unreadable expression. "And you think you know everything?"

"Oh, no," she chuckled, folding her arms. "I just saw the two of you in bed. Tell me—are you the one trying to seduce him, or is he the one chasing after you?"

Jonathan's expression shifted, his confidence wavering for a brief moment. His fingers clenched around the fabric of his sleeve as nervousness crept into his posture.

Before he could respond, another maid entered the room.

"Lord William is waiting for you," she announced, her tone neutral.

The first maid gave Jonathan one last knowing look before turning on her heel and leaving.

The second maid glanced at him. "If you're ready, come."