BTS Oneshots(Long Chapters Ahead) Smut Warning

The Emperor and his courtesan 1

**Disclaimer: The following scene contains explicit content.**

Hoseok stood frozen, his mind racing. The sight of Mahima in that sheer sari was a revelation, a blend of vulnerability and power that ignited a fire within him. But his restraint, honed by years of imperial duty, held him back.

“I can pay you,” he offered again, his voice trembling slightly. “A fortune. Just let me stay here until morning.”

Mahima’s laughter was soft, a melodious counterpoint to the storm brewing within Hoseok. She stepped closer, her eyes glinting with a promise of untold pleasures. “Your Majesty, money cannot buy what I offer. Besides, I’ve been waiting for this night for a long time.”

Her hand found his face, gentle but firm, drawing his gaze to hers. Their lips met in a chaste kiss, a spark igniting the dry tinder of their desire. It was a brief encounter, but it left Hoseok breathless, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You might think I’m experienced,” she whispered, her voice low and seductive, “but I’m not. You will be my first.”

Hoseok felt a surge of protectiveness mingled with desire. He wanted to cherish her, to make this experience as perfect as possible. But the beast within him was stirring, impatient and demanding.

He pulled her close, their bodies melding together. Mahima's hands found their way to the nape of his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. The taste of her was sweet and innocent, a stark contrast to the woman she projected. Her scent, a blend of jasmine and something uniquely hers, was intoxicating.

Hoseok felt a low growl rumble in his chest. He wanted her. All of her.

As their kiss deepened, Mahima's hands began to explore his body, her touch arousing a fire within him that threatened to consume him. And in that moment, as their bodies intertwined in a dance of desire, Hoseok knew that he was about to cross a line, a line that separated the Emperor from the man.

Mahima pulled away, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She took a deep inhale, the scent of Hoseok filling her senses. “You smell like Arabian perfume,” she murmured, her voice laced with desire. “Take it all off.”

Hoseok hesitated, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

Mahima nodded, her eyes locked on his. “I am ready.”

With a deep sigh, Hoseok began to shed his imperial robes. His body, revealed beneath the layers, was a testament to discipline and strength. Toned muscles rippled beneath his skin, and a series of intricate tattoos adorned his chest and neck, a stark contrast to the pristine image he projected to the world.

Mahima gasped, her eyes widening in astonishment. She traced a finger along his defined six-pack, her touch gentle but exploratory.

“Let your hair down,” she urged, her voice a soft command.

Hoseok complied, removing the hairband that held his long, white hair in place. The cascade of silver strands fell over his shoulders, framing his face in a halo of ethereal beauty.

“You’ve got me stuck in a love cycle,” Mahima breathed, her voice filled with awe.

With a strength that belied her delicate appearance, Hoseok scooped her up in his arms, carrying her effortlessly to the bed. As they kissed, their bodies intertwined in a passionate embrace. Mahima wrapped her legs around his waist, deepening the kiss as she felt a large scar at the back of his head. Gently, she traced the jagged line with her fingers.

Hoseok’s breath hitched as her hand slipped down to his trousers, her fingers brushing against his manhood. A low growl escaped his lips as he watched her deftly remove her sari, her impatience evident in her movements.