The King’s Unclaimed Mate(BL)

The night was still, but the king's blood was anything but calm.

He had taken his pleasure already, spent himself in the presence of this sleeping beauty, and yet… it wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

His river beauty lay sprawled before him, his breath slow and deep, his dark lashes fluttering faintly in sleep. The moon caressed his skin as if it, too, longed to claim him. The loose folds of his robe barely clung to his frame, slipping lower with every breath, teasing the king with the sinful temptation of what lay beneath.

And then—his gaze caught on it.

A golden waist chain.

It sat snugly against that bare, delicate waist, the fine metal pressing into soft, untouched skin. Thin, intricate bands of gold coiled around him like a lover's embrace, tiny diamonds glistening like stolen stars. The craftsmanship was exquisite—far too refined for a commoner. Royal.

So he was nobility.

A wicked thrill coursed through the king's veins. Had he unknowingly defiled royalty? Had he stained something pure with the filth of his desires?

The thought only made him harder.

His fingers hovered over the chain, aching to touch, to feel, to take. His beauty's stomach twitched faintly in his sleep at the ghost of the king's touch, the muscles tightening ever so slightly. Was his body reacting even in slumber? Did it recognize the presence of the one who would ruin him?

The king licked his lips.

He could take it.

A part of him wanted to rip it off, to strip him of this last fragile piece of nobility and claim him completely. But another part—**the one that savored the hunt, that wanted to unravel him piece by piece—**chose patience.

He lowered himself, mouth hovering just above the chain.

A breath. A pause.

Then—his tongue flicked out, tracing the smooth gold, tasting the faint tang of metal mixed with the warmth of his beauty's untouched skin.

A low growl rumbled in his throat.

The contrast was intoxicating—the cold bite of gold against the feverish heat of his flesh. He ran his tongue along the length of the chain, slowly, savoring, letting the taste of royalty and innocence melt against his lips.

And then—he bit down.

Hard enough to feel the metal against his teeth. Hard enough to make his beauty's stomach tremble ever so slightly beneath him.

His lips brushed lower, ghosting over the sensitive dip just below the chain, teasing the untouched skin. His tongue followed, wet and possessive, pressing into the soft warmth beneath.

Did his beauty feel this? Did his body stir even in unconsciousness?

The king bit down again—sharper, more demanding. His teeth closed over the delicate chain, tugging, pulling, claiming.

A snap.

The golden chain unraveled.

It slid from Caelum's waist with a sinful whisper, the diamonds catching the moonlight as they tumbled against the fabric of his loosened robe.

The king inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling with unrestrained hunger.

He lifted the broken chain to his lips, dragging his tongue over one of the shattered links before slipping it into his robes.

A stolen piece of him.

A promise that he would come searching.

And when he did—

The king would be waiting.