Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 33

Chapter 33

He trembled slightly but remained perfectly still.

Good boy.

I slid my hand around him briefly, feeling the unmistakable pulse beneath my palm—already hard, already slick with desire. Slowly, deliberately, I stroked him once, savoring the way he reacted, then released my grip.

A low, almost inaudible groan escaped him, but I caught it clearly.

Leaning close, I whispered softly near the shell of his ear, “That’s one.”

He said nothing in response, though his jaw tightened with restraint.

I stepped back, allowing the quiet to settle between us once more. “Anytime you make a sound without my permission, that’s a strike,” I explained gently.

“Do you understand?”

His hazel eyes flicked upward, filled with a silent plea, but he didn’t move.

Good.

I reached for the silk tie I’d left draped over the armchair earlier and approached him from behind again. “Hands.”

Without hesitation, he offered them to me. I bound his wrists together carefully, tying the knot slow and sure, then moved to stand before him. His breathing had grown shallow, chest rising and falling with quiet anticipation.

My fingers traced lightly down his chest before I knelt just enough to whisper against his warm skin, “You look absolutely exquisite like this—struggling, holding back, obeying.”

A shiver ran through him.

I pressed a soft kiss to the center of his chest.

Then lower.

Lower still, following the line of his happy trail with gentle kisses, moving from his hip down to the inside of his thigh. He gasped softly, but bit back the sound, lips trembling as he fought to stay silent.

I lingered near his groin, teasing him with nothing but warm breath.

Hovering just above him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, I listened to the uneven rhythm of his breathing.

But I didn’t take him into my mouth.

Not yet.

Instead, I exhaled slowly over the head of his cock, watching it twitch beneath my breath. He inhaled sharply, unsteady. My fingers slid lightly up his thighs, then pinched just enough to make him flinch.

“You want release,” I murmured. “But wanting isn’t enough. You have to earn it.”

When he finally relaxed under my touch and presence, I knelt beside him and at last—finally—gave him what he’d been craving.

One hand resting on his hip, the other stroking him slow and torturous. “You will not finish until I say.”

“Yes, Sir,” he gasped, trembling now.

I built him up with long, lazy strokes, feeling the tension coil tighter beneath my palm. Then I stopped again.

He cried out, his body shaking with denial.

“That’s three.”

Leaning in, I kissed the back of his neck and whispered, “You did so well, but you will not be coming tonight.”

He collapsed onto the floor, panting, utterly undone, needy—but still obedient, and that was exactly what I needed to see.

Gently, I untied his wrists, pulled him into my lap, and held him close.

His cock throbbed against my thigh, but I didn’t touch him again. Instead, I stroked his hair and murmured, “You make me proud, Noah. You’re learning what it means to be mine.”

He let out a broken, beautiful sound, curling completely into me.