Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 117

Chapter 117

Noah

80

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Holy hell.

If I’d thought the outfit I was wearing was the highlight of the night, I was dead wrong. In the short time we’d been at the club, Aiden had already been offered a prestigious position as a Master, I’d been “invited” to play with someone who might as well have been a goddess from Olympus herself, and I’d just been tagged with a ridiculous video game nickname. Half an hour in… and there were still several hours left.

Meanwhile, my cock—locked away and furious in its cage—was ready to file an official complaint.

Master Hale gave Aiden a firm clap on the shoulder, his voice warm and inviting. “Mr. A, we’re gathering in the game hall for the monthly poker night. I’d be honored if you and your boy would join us.”

Poker. Fantastic. Because being collared and crawling in front of a crowd wasn’t humiliating enough, now I was about to become some kind of entertainment at a card table.

“Absolutely,” Aiden replied smoothly, as if this was the most natural invitation in the world. “We’d be happy to join.”

To my absolute horror, I saw Luna and her Master start moving toward us. Her silver fishnet stockings clung to her skin like they’d been welded on, each step deliberate and precise. And me? I just wanted to disappear into the floor.

Her Master, eyes sharp and a smug smile playing on his lips, said, “I hope you don’t mind if we sit in. Luna loves to observe.”

Of course she did. Naturally, she was going to sit there, those amber eyes flicking toward me every chance she got, while my brain and my caged cock teamed up to make sure I was thoroughly miserable.

I flinched hard, snapping my head up to Aiden.

“Hands off,” Aiden’s voice cut sharply through the air. The leash jerked tight, yanking me up until I was kneeling, his grip firm in my hair. His eyes swept the table with that deadly calm he always had. “He’s mine. No one touches him.”

A fierce heat flared in my chest, burning hotter than the shame I felt. Pride. Because I was his. Completely his.

Aiden pulled me closer, brushing his lips softly over mine—a gentle but firm kiss that claimed me—and I melted into it despite the dozens of eyes on us. God, I wanted to crawl under the table, between his legs, anywhere just to belong to him.

The game began. Cards slapped against the felt, chips clinked together, whiskey glasses were filled and drained. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of money, conversations bouncing around the table about stocks, politics, and other topics I barely understood.

I tried to follow along, to listen. It was strange hearing Masters laugh like ordinary men, talking about their jobs, their wives, their lives beyond these walls. Some wore crisp uniforms, others expensive suits. I spotted a few wedding rings gleaming under the dim lights. Lust clearly didn’t care about professions—or vows.