Crossing Lines Chapter 46

**Aiden**.

My blood was boiling. My heart hammered hard against my ribs, thunderous with the weight of everything Noah had just shared with me. Every word, every confession, had burrowed into me like a brand—burning, searing, impossible to forget.

The truth was, when I first laid eyes on Noah, it wasn’t just his flawless body or the sharp lines of his cheekbones that caught my attention—it was the arrogance in his gorgeous blue eyes, the fire in the way he held his ground. That cocky, wild energy was like a dare. I’d wanted to tame it, bend it, own it. But over time, what I found beneath that defiance was something far more precious. Something delicate and fragile and deeply human—a broken heart still beating. A heart I would break myself to protect. One I would rebuild piece by piece, no matter how long it took.

And now… here he was. In my arms. Trembling.

His lips brushed mine again—tentative at first, then hungry, desperate. He shifted closer, pressing into me, needy and open. I felt the tension flood my spine. Felt my body respond without hesitation, my cock springing to life. His skin was warm against mine, his chest rising and falling in short, uneven breaths, every inch of his naked body humming with need. His fingers slid into my hair, his mouth parting just enough for me to taste the desperation in his kiss.

God, I wanted him.

I wanted to kiss every inch of skin—trace every scar, every shiver, every bruise that man had left behind, and erase them with my touch. I wanted to show him exactly how much I wanted him, how achingly hard he made me, how close I was to giving in.

But if I gave him everything now—if I let him take control of this moment, if I surrendered the structure we’d built for the sake of comfort or lust—I’d lose more than just control. I’d lose his respect. I'd blur the lines, confuse the trust we were only just beginning to rebuild. And I couldn’t afford that. Not now.

As he ground his cock against the bulge in my crotch, I gripped his wrists, stopping him gently but firmly, breaking our kiss.

“Noah,” I said, my voice thick, edged with restraint. “Stop. Before I have to punish you.”

His breath caught. His pupils were blown wide, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. I could see the confusion in his eyes, the flicker of hurt. But he didn’t pull away.

I held his gaze. “You don’t get to take control, no matter how much I want you. Not after tonight. Not like this.”

I could feel him breathing, his chest pressed against mine, his pulse wild beneath my hands. And still—I didn’t let go.

“You want me?” I asked, my voice quieter now. “Then earn it. Show me the boy I’ve trained, the one who follows my lead and knows his place. Because that boy…” My hand slid up to cup the back of his neck. “That boy I would burn the world for.”

He didn’t speak.

And neither did I.

Not right away.

Because despite everything in me screaming to keep going—to take, to claim—I knew I had to make him feel the weight of this pause. The meaning of it. Control wasn’t about denial. It was about preservation. About protecting him and everything we were building.

“How do I earn it, Sir?” he asked, voice low and ragged, every word laced with need.

“You don’t just take what you want, Noah,” I said, my tone firm but quiet. “You don’t put your own urges above mine. And you never use your Master as a humping post. Next time you do that, I’ll edge you so long your balls’ll turn blue. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir—I’m sorry…” His head dropped, guilt flushing his cheeks, his voice barely a whisper.

“You’ve done very well today, and I am pleased,” I continued, softening just slightly, “but that doesn’t erase my rules or your responsibilities.” I tilted his chin up. “Now tell me the truth—have you touched yourself or come since I told you not to?”

“No, I didn’t,” he shot back, quick and defensive.

My brow rose slowly in warning.

“I didn’t, Sir,” he repeated, breath hitching.

“And how is your body feeling right now?”

“I’m sore,” he admitted, eyes darting away. “Not just from the flogging…” His voice dropped. “My balls hurt like hell.”

I watched him shift, thighs tense, trying to suppress his reactions—his cock twitching, betraying him completely, leaking against the fabric of my couch.

“On your knees,” I ordered. Noah obeyed without hesitation.

“Do you want to come, Noah?” I asked, my voice deliberate.

“Yes, Sir. Please,” he said, eyes locked on mine, full of pleading desperation.

I brushed my thumb over his lower lip, weighing his need, letting the silence stretch just long enough for him to feel it. God, I loved seeing him like this—kneeling in front of me, bare and vulnerable, waiting for my command like his entire world hinged on my next breath.

Slowly, I reached for my belt, eyes locked on him, and watched the shiver ripple through his body. Anticipation flared in his gaze, edged with a flicker of fear. He thought I was going to bend him over the couch and fuck him. That I’d finally give in and claim him like he’d been daring me to since the first time he looked me in the eye and challenged my authority. I knew he wanted me to.

But I wasn’t going to.

Not tonight.

What I had already done—and what I was about to do—was enough for now. More than enough. But fucking him? That wasn’t going to happen under the haze of trauma, not when emotions still clung to him like a second skin, not when he was trembling and desperate and his cock was straining against his stomach like it was ready to explode.

I wasn’t going to take him for the first time while his mind was clouded and his control had already slipped. He deserved more than that. I needed him sound. Present. Fully mine, and fully aware of what that meant.

However, nothing was stopping me from pulling out my hard cock and giving it one long, deliberate stroke. His eyes widened, jaw slackening as he stared—his pink tongue slipping out to wet his lower lip.

“I want you to suck me,” I said, voice low, steady. “And if I like what you do, I’ll allow you to touch yourself while you pleasure me.”

A soft whimper slipped from his lips. “Sir, I—”

“Take it or leave it, Noah.” My tone was a warning, but he wasn’t looking at my face anymore. His gaze was locked on my cock like it was the only thing in the room.

He shuffled forward on his knees, inching closer as I spread my legs for him, giving him full access to everything he wanted but hadn’t dared ask for.

I wasn’t sure he’d do it. But still holding my gaze, he reached out and wrapped his hand around me, slow and unsure at first, like he needed to convince himself it was real. He stroked me once. Twice. Each motion more confident than the last.

*Oh, yeah... Good boy—*

And now, we’d find out just how good he could be.