Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Noah

What twisted, irrational part of me had allowed this to unfold?

I was still crumpled on the cold floor, curled up against his leg like some pathetic stray dog. My wrists throbbed from the silk tie that had bound me so tightly, and my thighs trembled from the intensity of what had just happened—how close I’d come, how hard he pushed me—and the deliberate way he’d left me like this.

Hard.

Denied.

Used.

And yet, despite it all, I clung to him as if he were my only lifeline.

What on earth was wrong with me?

He had ordered me to strip. And I had obeyed.

He had tied me up.

Touched me. Teased me. Controlled me so effortlessly that it felt as though he had reached inside my chest and rewired me. But instead of breaking, storming out, or mocking him with a sarcastic joke, I had… surrendered.

Now, here I was. Naked, exposed, humiliated, still aching for release, with his hand gently threading through my hair as if I were some kind of pet.

I should have been furious. I should have been ashamed. But instead, all I felt was… peace?

That didn’t make sense.

But it was true.

A strange, simmering peace that settled deep in my bones, mingling with the lingering arousal, the embarrassment, and an odd sense of accomplishment.

I had done exactly what he asked. I hadn’t broken.

And he had said he was proud of me.

God.

That word—proud—struck a chord deeper than it had any right to.

I should have pushed away. I should have laughed in his face, cracked some joke about cults or boot camps or whatever twisted game this was turning into. But I didn’t.

I stayed exactly where I was. At his feet. Warm from his touch. Grounded by his praise. And in a way that terrified me more than anything else tonight.

Nothing could have prepared me for what he said next.

“It’s time to take care of your punishment,” he declared.

My entire body froze. “…What?”

He didn’t flinch. His expression remained calm, almost gentle.

“You earned three. Punishments are always given at the end of the day. Not in anger, not in the moment. But after the heat has cooled. So you can think it over overnight, and wake up with a clean slate.”

Punishment.

He actually said punishment, as if it were just another routine thing. Like this was normal. Like this was okay.

I shifted slightly, blinking up at him. “Wait—now?”

He nodded.

“I thought that was the punishment,” I murmured, gesturing vaguely to my naked, thoroughly wrecked state. “You just tied me up and ruined me. Isn’t that enough?”

“That wasn’t punishment,” he said simply. “That was training.”

My mouth went dry.

I had no idea what kind of punishment he meant—physical? Emotional? Something humiliating? But some twisted part of me… wanted to know.

No. Not wanted… needed.

There was something buried deep inside me, hungry and desperate, that leaned toward it like it held the answer to a question I hadn’t dared ask before. And that terrified me more than anything else tonight.

But I didn’t move. I didn’t run. I didn’t even ask what kind.

I just waited.

“Present,” he ordered.

I blinked. “Sir?”

“You’ll learn this position well,” he said, rising and walking slowly behind me. “Every time I give the command, you will drop into it immediately. Head to the floor. Knees apart. Hands behind your neck. You remain open and still until I tell you otherwise.”

My stomach plummeted. This wasn’t like before. This wasn’t about seduction—this was about control. And I was about to feel exactly how much power he held.

My muscles trembled as I shifted into position. Head down. Knees spread. Ass exposed… vulnerable. Humiliated.

“Relax your fingers,” he murmured.

I tried. God, I tried.

Strike ten.

I made a noise—too loud.

“Still,” he snapped. “You will not move or change position until I give permission.”

I bit down hard, holding myself in place like my life depended on it.

Eleven.

Twelve.

By thirteen, my whole body shook.

By fourteen, I wanted to cry—but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Fifteen.

The final strike cracked through the silence like a gunshot. Then came the worst part—the silence after.

My body trembled—hot, aching, stretched thin—but I stayed exactly where I was.

Right where he told me to be.

He stepped in front of me. I barely managed to lift my head to look at him.

“Well?” he asked.

I forced my voice through the tight knot in my throat.

“Thank you, Sir.”

He gave a small nod. Nothing more.

Then he turned and walked away, placing the crop back into the chest. His silhouette framed by the fading light.

For the first time since this all began, I started to sit up in relief—until I heard Aiden’s next words—

“Present your ass, Noah.”