Crossing Lines Chapter 85

**Aiden**

The ride home was quiet. 

I could feel every thought buzzing through my baby boy’s head like static, even if he didn’t say a word. Tonight had been… something. I’d tried to keep him safe, tucked close, protected from the eyes that wanted a piece of him the second we walked in. Right… the fucking audacity. He was mine, and no one was touching him. Same as no one was touching me. 

But of course, that all went sideways the moment Noah decided to transform into a human cock-block.

Jesus Christ. He’d practically growled at that poor girl like a dog with a bone. In front of everyone. Crawled between her and me like he was staking a claim—like he had the right. Bold. Possessive. Absolutely out of line. And the worst part? I was so fucking proud I could barely keep a straight face.

I should’ve been furious. Embarrassed. A Master letting his sub get away with that? Unheard of. Public correction was the only way to save face, and I delivered it. But I wasn’t about to flog my boy for wanting me to himself… So I found another way. Something humiliating, yes—but also safe. Controlled. Mine.

Make no mistake: having him suck me off at that table wasn’t about me getting off. It was punishment. A lesson.

Not that I’m convinced he understood it that way.

The whole drive, he didn’t dare look at me. Staring out the window, stiff as a board, like he was waiting for the ax to fall. The kid probably thought I was going to rip him a new one the second we walked through the door, though he obviously didn’t think it was fair either. It was almost… adorable.

When we finally walked into the house, he couldn’t hold it anymore. He practically ripped his coat off, stripping rough and fast as he spat out, “Okay, Sir. Let’s hear it!”

I leaned against the doorway, calm as ever. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

He kicked his shoes off with all the grace of a frat boy, scowling. “Me? You’re the one who’s angry at me.”

“I’m not angry, Noah.”

“Oh, right,” he snapped, yanking his thong off and throwing them onto a chair. Naked now, pacing with a deep frown carved on his face. “Let me guess—you’re not angry, you’re *disappointed*. I embarrassed you, acted like a jealous freaking girl when someone else was trying to steal her boyfriend…”

My brow arched. My tone stayed calm. “Is that how you felt? Like someone was trying to steal *me*?”

His whole body jerked like I’d hit a nerve. “You tell me! A beautiful girl—like, gorgeous, naked, flawless—”

“It seems like you’re the one who has a crush on her.”

“What?!” He stopped dead, eyes wide. “I don’t have a fucking crush on her! And she wasn’t gonna suck my dick anyway, she was gonna suck yours! And she obviously knows what she’s doing—probably a cock-sucker expert. Good luck competing with *that*!” He threw up his hands. “Not like I care! I mean, I’m not gonna fight for your attention if she’s what you want…”

I bit back a grin, motioning him over.

“I’d rather stand, Sir.”

My brow went higher. The warning was clear.

He groaned, muttering under his breath, but finally dropped onto my lap in a graceless flop, still pouting.

I brushed a kiss against his temple. “First of all, your stripping could definitely use some work.”

That earned me a side-eye glare.

“Second,” I continued, “the only thing I was disappointed in… was that you thought I’d ever hurt you like that. Noah, I had no interest in that girl—or any other girl, for that matter. Yes, she’s beautiful. Yes, she probably *is* very good at sucking cock. But you…” I tipped his chin so he was forced to meet my eyes. “…you will always be my favorite cocksucker. No matter where we are.”

He blinked, torn between proud and offended. “Umm… I don’t really know how I feel about that statement, Sir.”

I kissed him—slow, tender, one of the kisses I knew melted him down. “Take it however you want, baby boy. Just know I had zero intentions of letting her near me. We agreed: no thirds without mutual consent. And I would’ve honored that… if you’d let me.”

His lips parted. “Oh. But I assumed—”

“Well, you assumed wrong. And look where that got you.”

His brows furrowed. “Wait… that was a punishment?”

“It was,” I said simply. “I would never have put you on display on our first official day. But you earned it. Of course,” I added with a teasing smirk, “I enjoyed your mouth on me immensely. We should probably do that in public more often.”

His eyes shot wide, horror and arousal colliding at once.

I chuckled, pulling him closer into my arms, kissing him deeper until his body trembled against mine and every thought slipped away.

When all the tension finally melted from that handsome face and I felt him ease against me, I broke the kiss before things got too heated too fast. I pressed my forehead to his and whispered, “Good boy. You handled yourself well tonight. I’m proud of you.”

His lashes fluttered, surprise breaking through his pout, and I smiled faintly. “And for the record,” I added, brushing my thumb over the O-ring at his throat, “I know that cage wasn’t easy. Not for a second. But you endured it—beautifully.”

Relief lit his eyes as I pulled him up with me and guided him to the bathroom to take it off. I laid the device carefully in the sink, a gleaming reminder of just how far he’d come tonight.

“Go on,” I said, nodding toward the toilet. “Take a minute.”

He disappeared behind the door for a few moments, then returned, walking looser, lighter. The tension in his shoulders had eased, his expression calmer… For second.

“Grab the crop,” I said evenly.

He froze mid-step. “But… Sir, I thought you said that was my punishment earlier…”

I arched a brow. “For what you did at the club? Yes. And you served that punishment already. But the crop is for everything since you got home—cursing, not addressing me properly, stripping like a teen instead of a submissive, ignoring posture, and now…” I leaned forward, eyes narrowing just enough to make his stomach flip. “…for asking me why.”

A holy shit nearly slipped off his lips before he bit it back. His wide eyes cut to me, panic and disbelief tumbling together, and I had to smother a laugh. He looked like a kid realizing he’d just racked up every detention slip in school history within fifteen minutes.

Of course I wasn’t going to count each offense. I wasn’t an asshole. But he needed to know I saw them. That I kept track. That he was accountable. Always.

“Position,” I ordered softly.

To his credit, he didn’t argue. He fetched the crop, set it on the bed, and dropped smoothly into place. Knees spread, chest lowered, ass high. A perfect offering. *My* perfect offering.

Christ, the temptation to just push inside him then and there almost cracked my control. But tonight wasn’t about giving in to my cock. It was about structure. Balance. Teaching him where he stood.

*Focus, Aiden.*

I picked up the crop and laid five deliberate strikes across his ass, each one sharp enough to sting but measured enough to be endured. He tensed, shuddered, whimpered through his teeth, but he didn’t break.

When the fifth landed, I dropped the crop onto the mattress. “That’s it. One point tonight. Not five. Not ten. One. For the transgression itself—not every little mess-up. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” he breathed, still trembling, still holding the position like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“Good boy.”

I smoothed a hand over the welted skin, rubbed gently, then tapped his hip. “Up. Shower. Clean yourself off and meet me in bed. Tomorrow’s a big day—for both of us.”

His legs were shaky when he stood, but the look in his eyes… devoted. Mine. Always mine.