His Untouched Devotion (BL)
The sacred chamber was dimly lit, the scent of incense curling in the air like whispers of forgotten prayers. His breath came uneven, his hands trembled at his sides as he stared at the man before him—the warrior who should not have been here.
"You shiver so easily," the warrior murmured, his voice dark, teasing. Tempting. His fingers brushed over the fine silk of the priest’s robe, not quite touching—just a whisper of heat, but enough to unravel him.
"D-Don’t," he breathed, stepping back, but the warrior followed.
"Don’t what?" The smirk in his voice was maddening. Mocking. Dangerous.
"You know what exactly you are doing. This is unacceptable..." The warrior closed the space between them and placed his finger on his lips, causing his body to tremble.
His throat bobbed. The rules of the sect were clear. He was supposed to be untouchable—unblemished in body and soul, a perfect example of godliness and pureness. And yet…
"I can hear your heartbeat." The warrior leaned in, the tip of his nose barely grazing his jaw. Too close. "So wild… tell me, is it fear or something else?"
His lips parted, but the words died on his tongue when strong hands found his wrist, tugging him forward, pressing him flush against the heat of his body. A sharp gasp escaped him.
"Let me go," he whispered pleadingly.
"Then go," the warrior challenged, loosening his grip—but his body refused to move.
A sinful chuckle brushed against his ear. "See? You don’t want to leave."
"I do." The lie burned his tongue.
"Then why are you not?"
A strangled sound escaped him as warmth pooled in his core—something he never should have felt. Something he never knew he could feel. His knees buckled, but before he could fall, strong arms caught him. Held him. Claimed him.
"Look at you," the warrior hummed, his voice thick with something dangerous. "I barely touched you, and you’re already breaking. Doesn't this mean something to you, my moonflower?"
The warrior looked into the divine one's eyes and noticed the change of color in his eyes which made him smirk as if he had gotten his lucky shot. His gaze darkened in return, sharp with an incomprehensible hunger and before the priest could utter another world, his lips were claimed.
A single tear slipped free, rolling down his cheek—a silent surrender.
He just couldn't do it. He couldn't fight against this burning desire in him anymore. He was just going to let it be—whatever would happen should happen.
The warrior hummed in satisfaction at the taste of the divine one, his grip tightening.
A gasp was swallowed whole as the warrior’s mouth moved against his, devouring, demanding, tasting. Heat licked down his spine, a fire awakening within him, spreading through his veins like an unspoken prophecy.
"So beautiful," the warrior murmured against his lips before diving back in, stealing another kiss—deeper, rougher, hungrier.
He was an angel worth sinning for.
The Priest's fingers clutched at the fabric between them, desperate, lost, drowning.
The world outside ceased to exist. Only this moment remained. Only this touch, this heat—this forbidden, maddening desire.
And as the flames outside flickered wildly in the night, so too did he burn.
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Y'all, this picture was gotten from Pinterest. I only changed the names and added little design. I do not originally own it. Thank you.
