Crossing Lines Chapter 56

**Aiden**

The second I heard Devon Reilly’s voice, I froze.

Of all the people who could’ve walked down those stairs, it had to be him. The one man who would burn my career to the ground just to watch it fall.

Devon didn’t just hate me for cutting him from the team—he had reason to suspect. Months ago, when *ObeyNet* was all over campus gossip, he’d barged into my office without knocking. Caught a glimpse of my laptop screen… and it wasn’t a playbook he saw. Not exactly.

Just a flash—a black interface, color-coded usernames, contract clauses, and private messages—the unmistakable admin dashboard of *ObeyNet*. Enough for a sharp bastard like him to remember. To wonder.

He’d laughed it off at the time, tossed a throwaway line about my “special playbook,” but I’d seen the look in his eyes. He’d filed it away. Waiting.

And now here he was—at the same party, with Noah—and that was more than close enough to set my teeth on edge.

If being there had been reckless and stupid enough on my part—regardless of who might’ve found us—then giving into Noah’s temptation a second time, in the same damn place, was delusional.

Worse, it was proof that we’d both lost our minds.

No rules. No caution. Just fire and the urge to burn everything down with it.

We couldn’t keep this up. Not like this. Not here…. Starting tomorrow, it had to change.

But tonight… tonight we were in too deep to turn back.

Being in his mouth was a kind of heaven I wasn’t sure I deserved.

Noah wasn’t just on his knees—he was giving me his all, every slow drag of his tongue, every pull of his lips laced with heat and intent.

I could feel the hunger rolling off him, taste the need in the way he worked me, like every second between us tonight had been leading right here.

I knew exactly what he wanted.

Hell, I could feel it—in the press of his body, the tremor in his thighs, the ragged edge of his breath between swallows.

But I wasn’t going to fuck him for the first time here. Not in a storage closet beneath the feet of every student I coached.

What I could do—what I *would* do—was give him exactly what I’d promised.

I pulled back slightly, letting my cock slip from his mouth, watching his lips part in pure disappointment. That look shifted instantly when I asked,

“Have you come since our last time, Noah?”

A glimmer of hope lit his eyes. “No, Sir. Not since you allowed me to.”

I believed him. Just one glance and I knew he’d been holding out, desperate for his reward.

“I’ve been a good boy, Sir… just as you asked.”

Christ—those words almost made me come on his face.

I yanked him up, turned us toward the wide counter, and swept every bottle and rag onto the floor. His boxers hit the ground again, and I pushed him to sit on the edge, my eyes devouring him—his kiss-swollen mouth, that perfect, sculpted body, those hungry, bright eyes locked on me like I was oxygen. His cock stood thick and slick between us, dripping against my groin.

“Sir—please…” he begged, spreading his knees wider.

I stepped in, pressing our cocks together, wrapping one strong hand around both. He moaned, head tilting back. He wouldn’t last long—I could feel it—but I’d promised him more than one, and he’d damn well earned them.

The moment his trembling fingers gripped my shoulder, I knew he was on the edge. “Sir—Oh God… may I—”

“You may, baby boy. Come for me.”

He bucked into my hand the instant I gave permission, spilling hard with a loud, broken cry. His release coated my hand and his stomach, and I used it to slick my cock before pressing the head to his tight hole. He gasped, tensing—then stayed open for me.

“Noah, I’m not going to fuck you,” I told him, pushing him back so his ass hung over the edge. “But I said I’d make you come twice before you lick me clean.”

He caught on fast, holding his legs tight against his chest, giving me a perfect view of where I wanted him. A few firm strokes and I spilled across his twitching ass in thick, hot ropes, my body shaking with the force of it.

Still catching my breath, I spread the mess over his entrance with my fingers before sliding one inside. He flinched, hissed, then melted into the stretch. I eased a second finger in, feeling him pulse around me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Sir…” he panted, hips rolling to meet my hand. When I added a third, his cock sprang back to life.

I gripped it, pumping in time with my fingers.

“Sir—That’s so—Oh, fuck… oh, fuck. Please, I… Just, don’t—” 

I fastened the pace, finding that perfect spot inside him and pressing until he was moaning, babbling, and thrusting desperately against me.

“That’s it, baby… good boy…”

The second I felt him teeter on the brink, I shoved my fingers deep and stroked him hard. He came with a shuddering grunt, clenching tight around me as his cum painted my hand again.

Lowering his legs, I took in the sight of him—spent, flushed, dripping with both of us. He looked so fucking gorgeous, so *mine*, that for a heartbeat I considered breaking my own rule and fucking him right there.

Instead, I grabbed a towel and wiped him down. I’d barely started on myself when Noah took it from me, dropped to his knees, and looked up through his lashes.

“What are you—”

Before I could finish, his mouth was on me again—tongue dragging over my cock, my balls, every drop on my stomach. Then he took each of my fingers into his mouth one by one, sucking them clean without looking away.

And thank God for the sliver of self-control I still had—because it was the only thing keeping me from making *another* reckless mistake.

That simple, voluntary act of submission lit something inside me—something darker, sharper… and far more dangerous than anything I’d felt for him so far.

It wasn’t lust. Not exactly. It was possession tangled with something I didn’t have a name for.

We dressed in silence, each of us wrapped in our own tangle of thoughts, our own private turmoil. The heat between us hadn’t burned out—it was still there, simmering low and hot—but now there was something else coiled underneath it.

Just as we were about to leave, Noah leaned in and kissed me.

It wasn’t the breathless, desperate crash of lips we’d shared minutes ago, but something softer, quieter… intimate in a way I wasn’t prepared for. It hit me like a punch I didn’t see coming.

I blinked, unsure how to process it—unsure if I even wanted to.

Noah stepped back, looking just as thrown as I felt, before slipping out the door on his own to avoid suspicion. “I’ll see you later, at your house?”

In my haze I’d made many wrong decisions that night, but there was one I was not about to make ever again in my life. “Don’t you dare!” I warned him, sharper than I intended. “You’ve been drinking. Get some sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

And I just stood there, the taste of him still on my lips, wondering when the hell this took a turn.