21.

Chapter — Silk & satin

Noah stared at the ridiculous pile of clothes spread across his bed.

Silk. Satin. Expensive. Scandalous.

His face burned as he picked up one of the shirts—no, not a shirt, this was practically lingerie. The fabric was so soft, so thin, it was nearly see-through.

And then the pants—tight, black, designed to cling to every inch of his legs.

There was no way he could wear this.

His phone buzzed.

Kieran.

Wear what I gave you. Be a good boy.

Noah’s face flamed. He immediately started typing a protest, but before he could hit send—

Another message.

If you don’t, I’ll dress you myself.

His breath hitched.

Kieran would do it.

He groaned, flopping onto the bed, covering his face with his hands.

How was he supposed to survive tonight?

********

Noah stood in front of the mirror, his fingers gripping the hem of the sheer, silky shirt.

It clung to his skin like a whisper, outlining his collarbones, his lean torso. The fabric was so thin that if he moved just right, the shadows of his skin peeked through.

His face burned.

The pants were even worse. Black, tight, hugging his thighs and hips in a way that left nothing to the imagination. He had never worn anything like this before—had never even thought of wearing something this suggestive.

And yet.

A slow, dangerous thought crept into his mind.

What will Kieran do when he sees me like this?

He swallowed hard, his hands brushing down his torso. Would Kieran’s sharp, possessive eyes darken? Would he grab him, touch him, devour him the way he always did?

Noah let out a shaky breath.

Why am I thinking like this?

But he knew why.

Because Kieran always looked at him like he owned him.

And maybe, just maybe, a part of Noah liked it.

****

Noah barely had time to process the knock at the door before Emma barged into his room, her eyes immediately landing on him.

She froze.

Then, a slow, knowing smirk stretched across her lips. "Well, well, well… What is this? I came here to return your books, but it's interesting--"

Noah flushed, tugging at the hem of his barely-there shirt. "N-Nothing! I was just—uh—getting ready—"

Emma’s gaze dragged over him, lingering on the sheer fabric clinging to his torso, the way his tight pants accentuated his legs. "Oh my God, you're actually wearing this? For him?"

Noah turned away, ears burning. "He told me to."

"Of course he did," Emma teased, striding over. Before Noah could stop her, she was behind him, gripping his shoulders and turning him back toward the mirror. "But you’re not done yet."

Noah’s stomach twisted. "W-What do you mean?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Sweetheart, if you're going to be his date, you need to do it right."

Before he could protest, she reached forward, her fingers grazing the buttons of his shirt.

Noah’s breath hitched. "Emma—"

She undid the first button.

Then the second.

The fabric slipped slightly, exposing more of his pale skin, his delicate collarbones.

"Better," she mused, adjusting the sleeves so they hung looser, making the whole outfit look effortless—like sin stitched into fabric. "Now, let’s see what else he got you."

Noah’s heart nearly stopped when she went for the unopened black box on his bed.

"Wait, Emma—!"

Too late.

She lifted the lid, revealing the real reason Kieran had sent this package.

Lingerie.

Noah’s face burned so hot he thought he might die. "I—I can’t—"

"You can and you will." Emma grinned wickedly, holding up the delicate, lacy garment. "Trust me, he’ll lose his mind."

Noah swallowed. His hands trembled as he hesitated, his reflection in the mirror looking back at him—flushed, vulnerable, almost willing.

What would Kieran do if he saw him in this?

The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

*******

— Fit for His Queen

Kieran adjusted the cuffs of his tailored black suit, admiring his reflection in the mirror. He looked sharp, powerful—perfect. But none of it mattered.

Not when the real prize was Noah.

His little lover was going to be his tonight. Fully.

Kieran smirked as he checked his watch. Everything was set. The car. The restaurant. The entire venue he'd rented out just for the two of them. Nothing would be too much when it came to Noah.

The suit? Custom. The watch? Diamond-encrusted. The car waiting outside? A sleek, jet-black luxury vehicle that screamed power. And the restaurant? No—not a restaurant. A private rooftop, decorated with thousands of lights, the most expensive wines, a five-star chef preparing a custom menu. The night would be perfect.

And Noah?

He would be breathless.

Kieran licked his lips at the thought, his mind already racing ahead. The moment he saw him in that outfit—he already knew Noah would obey. He would wear what Kieran told him to.

Because tonight wasn’t just a date.

Tonight was a claiming.

********

Kieran stepped out of his car, the massive bouquet of Noah’s favorite flowers cradled in one arm. The scent was intoxicating, almost as sweet as the thought of Noah’s reaction when he saw them.

He had spared no expense—each bloom hand-picked, the arrangement wrapped in silk and tied with an elegant ribbon. It wasn’t just a bouquet. It was a statement. A declaration that Noah belonged to him.

His fingers traced over the petals as he strode toward Noah’s apartment, heart pounding with anticipation.

The moment he knocked, he smirked.

Open the door, sweetheart.

Tonight, the real game began.