Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 100

Chapter 100

My lips sealed tightly, but sadly, my coat wasn’t going to remain closed for much longer.

Without wasting a moment, Aiden reached into the satchel he carried and pulled out two sleek masks. They were crafted from black leather, edged with silver—stylish yet designed to conceal identity. Without uttering a single word, he slipped one over his own face. The mask’s sharp contours framed his jawline and mouth perfectly, casting a shadow over his eyes and adding an air of mystery. Then, holding out the second mask to me, he waited silently.

I paused just briefly before pulling it on, relief washing over me. It wasn’t much, but at least my face wasn’t entirely exposed anymore. I was no longer just a collar and a cock pouch, vulnerable and open to scorn. That small comfort, however, shattered the instant I heard the unmistakable click.

The leash.

Aiden fastened it smoothly to the O-ring resting at my throat. Though it was only a thin strip of leather with a silver clasp, its weight felt like iron chains dragging me down. My stomach twisted as his fingers brushed the ring, lingering deliberately, reminding me that this wasn’t some mere accessory—it was real. Raw. Binding.

He leaned close, his voice a soft murmur against my ear, velvet wrapped around steel. “You look stunning, Noah. Absolutely perfect. Don’t forget that.”

His words, meant to soothe, failed to do so. Especially when he added, “From now on, you kneel at my feet. When I move, you crawl. Do you understand?”

My throat tightened painfully. Crawl? In front of others? My mind exploded with flashing red alarms. This man wanted to parade me around like a pet, a showpiece on a leash! I could already imagine the eyes—judging, mocking, tearing me apart. The humiliation would be seared into my skin. My heart thundered wildly, panic pounding against my ribs.

Desperation pushed me to turn toward him, whispering urgently, “I can’t do this. Sir, I can’t—”

His hand caught my chin gently, tilting my face upward. There was no anger, no ridicule—only that maddening calm that always unsettled me. His thumb brushed once across my cheekbone. The mask hid half his face, but his eyes burned straight through me.

At that precise moment, the heavy wooden door at the far end of the room swung open.

The man who entered commanded the space effortlessly, just as Aiden did. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was dressed in midnight silk, a subtle signet ring catching the light on his finger. His presence was regal, like someone who didn’t merely run a club but ruled a kingdom.

“Mr. Hale,” the attendant greeted him with a respectful bow.

Mr. Hale. Of course the owner’s name was sharp and commanding, just like his presence.

And just like that, the game was about to begin.