Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 102

Chapter 102

Aiden

All attention in the room was fixed on a single figure.

But it wasn’t me. Nor was it Hale, nor the experienced Masters commanding their obedient submissives on the illuminated stages. It was Noah. My Noah. My flawless, breathtaking boy, trembling slightly, completely unaware of how effortlessly he captivated everyone simply by kneeling at my feet.

I perceived what others did—a delicate blend of shyness cloaked in beauty, fear intertwined with strength, that fragile facade of serene submission that wouldn’t fool anyone truly familiar with him. Certainly not me. I caught the subtle betrayals his body gave away: the slight quiver at the corner of his lower lip, the nervous bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard against the collar of his shirt, the solitary bead of sweat tracing down from beneath his golden curls, shimmering as it slid along the sharp line of his jaw.

He probably believed he appeared small here, as if he didn’t belong. But in this realm of practiced submission and perfected façades, Noah was something else entirely—wildfire. Untamed, raw, and utterly genuine. Beautiful in a way that no silk garment or rehearsed act could ever replicate.

The submissives cast subtle glances his way—soft looks, shy smiles, delicate tilts of their heads. And the Dominants? They devoured him with their eyes. Some curious, some hungry, others already plotting how they might entice him away, test his boundaries, break him in ways I hadn’t dared.

Right. Like that would ever happen.

That thought churned inside me, a dark echo of what I knew must be running through Noah’s mind. He had noticed all eyes drifting toward me, but he hadn’t yet realized the truth: they were orbiting him.

Even Hale’s gaze lingered. That was significant. The man who could seduce Dominants and submissives alike—who had molded this entire club around his presence—hadn’t overlooked a single detail of the boy kneeling beside me. The smile Hale offered Noah was different from the one he reserved for me. Softer. Knowing. As if he recognized the same fragile fire I saw and was already imagining how he might wield it if Noah belonged to him.

That image ignited a fierce, instinctual flame within me.

Yet, part of me respected Hale. He wasn’t just a figurehead; he was a man intimately acquainted with power, one who had honed it in every conceivable form. A man who could teach me much—if I were willing to learn.

But Noah was not his. He never would be.

Noah was mine.

Hale’s eyes held mine a moment longer before he spoke, his voice rising effortlessly over the low murmur of the club. “I’ve seen your work, Mr. A. The recordings, the videos featuring several submissives.” His lips curled into a subtle smirk. “Impressive. Controlled. Your scenes exemplify the standard we uphold here.”

Next to me, Noah’s head snapped around so quickly I felt the leash tighten. “Videos?” His wide eyes flicked up at me, confusion and jealousy bleeding through his carefully maintained mask. He remained silent, but his body spoke volumes—shoulders stiffening, fists clenched against the cold marble, breath quickening as if he’d just been struck.

Hale continued smoothly, ignoring Noah’s visible reaction. “A man like you in our circle—it would be an honor.”

I let the words hang between us, watching Noah out of the corner of my eye. His mask concealed much, but not everything. I saw the faint tremor in his lip, the tension in his jaw, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, muscles taut like drawn wire.

“Walk with me,” Hale invited.

We moved together through the dim, velvet-lit hallway until we stopped near one of the smaller stages. There, two stunning young submissives writhed together, their bodies entwined in a raw, unscripted display for the crowd’s entertainment—no Master guiding them, just pure, uninhibited movement. Hale raised a hand toward them, then turned back to me.

“I would love,” he said carefully, each word deliberate, “if you would honor us with a demonstration. Our submissives are entirely at your disposal.”

At my feet, Noah trembled. He tried to conceal it, but I felt it in the leash, saw the subtle shakes running through his shoulders. His breaths came fast and shallow, his body quaking with dread. He looked up at me, panic breaking through his mask. “I can’t do this,” he whispered, voice raw and fragile. “Sir—I can’t—please, I can’t—”

I crouched down, steadying my hand on his cheek. “Listen to me.” My voice was calm, unyielding, but warm. “I am proud of you. More than you realize. You don’t have to prove anything tonight. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

His eyes welled up, fear shattering his bravado.

“You can use your safeword now,” I said softly, pressing my forehead lightly against his. “If you do, I will respect it. You’ll sit with Master Hale while I perform with someone else. And when we’re finished, we’ll go home. No disappointments. No guilt. Do you understand me? This isn’t a trick. I would never hold it against you.”

He swallowed hard, trembling, my words sinking deep into him. His lips parted, but no sound came at first—just a broken shake of his head. Then, finally, almost too soft to hear: “No.”

I brushed my thumb over his lower lip, feeling it quiver beneath my touch.

“Are you sure?”

His chest heaved. He looked up at me, voice cracking but fierce. “You are not performing with anyone else but me.”

The leash trembled in my hand, and my heart clenched along with it. Terror still flickered in his eyes—but so did the fire I had been waiting for.

Mine. Always mine.