Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Aiden

My fingers glided gently through his tousled hair, moving with a slow, steady rhythm—as if this simple gesture could tether us both to the moment, anchoring us in a fragile peace.

He remained at my feet, eyes closed in quiet repose, his breathing calm and even. His head rested against my lap with an ease that felt natural, as though he had always belonged there—like this was exactly where he was meant to be.

God help me… it felt so undeniably right.

Too right.

A dangerous, possessive part of me stirred deep inside—the part I usually kept locked away behind walls of steel discipline. That whispering voice that insisted this boy was mine. Not just because the contracts said so, not merely as a submissive to be trained and molded.

But mine.

To protect.

To guide.

To hold close.

I swallowed hard, my thumb brushing softly over his temple.

What the hell are you doing, Aiden?

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan. But the more time I spent with him, the more he slipped past my defenses—one sarcastic remark, one shy confession, one tremor of obedience at a time.

I looked down at him, and for a brief moment, the air caught in my throat. The golden light of the setting sun poured through the window, bathing his skin in a warm amber glow, highlighting every inch of him.

In this light, he looked almost unreal—strikingly beautiful in a way that crept up on you when you least expected it.

Lean muscle rippled beneath his skin, raw potential waiting to be shaped. His skin flushed in all the places I most longed to touch—his cock pressed against his thigh, hard and neglected—a perfect contradiction of discipline and desire.

He was the kind of beautiful that made your heart ache. Not fragile, but devastating.

And right now, he was mine.

My gaze traced the lines of his bare body, moving up to that maddeningly angelic face as I threaded my fingers through his messy blond hair.

I found myself staring at his mouth—shaped for rebellion—and imagined those lips wrapped around me in worship.

He carried that dangerous charm—an all-American sweetness masking a spark ready to ignite and burn everything down. But in this moment, he simply looked surrendered.

Even though I knew it wouldn’t last.

Not with Noah.

That fiery rebel inside him would flare up again—probably by morning.

I shook my head lightly, as if that small motion could scatter the intrusive thoughts trying to take root.

“You said you wanted this,” I told him. “To serve. To learn. To give me everything.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then I’m going to give you your first real test. I want you to stay perfectly still. Silent. Hands behind your back. You will not move, speak, or finish without my permission. Understood?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.” I rose slowly, circling him, letting my fingertips trail lightly along the edges of his shoulder blades, across his chest, down the center of his back.

His skin twitched beneath my touch.

“You’re already struggling, aren’t you?” I murmured, brushing a kiss just beneath his ear. “So sensitive. So responsive. And I haven’t even started yet.”

He whimpered softly, barely audible.

I grasped his jaw firmly, tilting his face up to meet mine. “I said no sound.”

He nodded once, wide-eyed, lips pressed tightly together.

“Mm.” I ran my thumb slowly across his lips. “Better.”

I stepped behind him again, beginning to touch with purpose—one hand resting at the nape of his neck, the other trailing down his chest. My mouth followed, lips skimming over his shoulder, teeth grazing gently as I let the heat between us build like a rising tide.