Noah
The car ride was quiet as hell, except for my heart pounding like it
was trying to bust out of my chest. Aiden looked cool as ever, like
nothing touched him, but I knew better–he was burning inside, same-
as me.
Because me? Hell, I was a mess. My mask hid my face, but it couldn’t
hide how stiffly I was sitting or how shallowly I was breathing. I could
swagger on the field no problem, but here–on my knees, leash in his
hand–I still hadn’t figured out how to fucking breathe. I was
hurting… By God, I was torn and could barely stop my chest from
caving… Had I done the right thing? I mean, here we were as always,
together, even after that talk, and though it had been a bit awkward
at first, I knew this should not change much… Would it?
The doors opened, and the club swallowed us. Music low,
conversations buzzing, the air thick with leather, cologne, and sex.
We checked in, coats off, collars on. Then, like always, he paraded me
in first. All fours. Silver leash gleaming. Every damn eye turning our
way.
I hated it, and I loved it. Both at once.
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And he knew–he always knew–because I gave myself away in the
little ways, the twitch of my shoulders, the way my head dipped. But I
did it anyway. And every step I took, I felt that mix of pride and
humiliation sink deeper into my bones.
“Mr. A.” Master Hale. The guy’s handshake was just as sharp as his
smile. “I received your message. It’s a pleasure to have you both. I
look forward to tonight.”
“Likewise,” Aiden said, cool and calm.
I hesitated, my head tilting, trying to figure out what the hell that
was about. Before I could overthink it, Aiden’s hand stroked over my
hair, steady and sure, and I pressed against his leg without meaning
- to. Instinct. Protection. Him.
At our table, we weren’t alone. Mistress Diana was already seated, tall
and gorgeous, her pale hair pinned into a knot sharp enough to cut.
At her side, a very pretty girl, Iris, knelt–delicate, wiry, with wide
blue eyes that never quite lifted from the floor. On the other end,
Master Dominic lounged with a boy about my age, Anthony, right at
his feet.
Anthony was… fuck. Gorgeous. And I knew nothing about guys‘ beauty apart from Aiden’s. But even I could tell about this one. Olive skin, sharp angles, green eyes that sparkled like he knew the whole damn room wanted him. Even sitting still, he looked like temptation
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wrapped up with a bow.
And yeah, I hated him instantly. My mouth went tight before I caught
myself, but Aiden saw it. Of course he saw it.
They ordered drinks. Everyone talked–Diana sharp and running the
conversation, and I couldn’t help thinking she could so easily be a
bitch. The idea of that woman holding a whip made me shiver. I
would not wanna be Iris.
Dominic, on the other hand, was smooth as a glove–and according to
Aiden, those were the worst kind. Calm but deadly. But honestly?
Anthony’s eyes didn’t show fear. They wandered like he’d never once
heard the word no.
I stayed on the floor, pressed against Aiden’s leg, my whole body
tight, bracing for whatever storm was coming.
And then Roman showed up.
“Mr. A!” Big smile, voice booming, like the whole place was his stage.
He clasped Aiden’s hand like they were old friends. “What a surprise
and a pleasure to see you and your boy back.”
Then his eyes dropped to me. “Xion?”
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I nodded, cautious. My voice came out quieter than I meant. “Sir.”
He grinned like he’d just won something. Then he gestured. “And of
course… Luna.”
She floated forward like a fucking dream. A see–through white veil
that covered nothing, amber laces crossing over her nipples and barely hiding the vee between her thighs. Black hair spilling over her shoulders, eyes glowing gold when they found mine. And she smiled-
at me. Like I was the only person in the room.
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Chapter 139
A while into their chatter, the music shifted–low, heavy, a rhythm
that throbbed in my veins. A stage light pulsed on. I was getting ready
to watch some uncomfortably erotic show when I realized, by
everyone’s eyes on us, that we were the show.
Aiden bent down, his lips brushing mine in a kiss so brief I almost
missed it. But it was enough–enough to remind me he owned me,
enough to send heat ripping through me as Roman stepped forward
with Luna at his side.
We were led to the stage.
It wasn’t just a platform–it was a setup. Hooks hanging from the
ceiling, chains anchored to the floor, two places mirrored across from
each other. One for me. One for her.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Aiden guided me to the center, his touch steady even as my body
shook. Aiden asked me to strip from my thong–not that it made
much of a difference…. cold air licked at my skin as he clipped me in -wrists pulled high, ankles tethered wide, my chest and cock exposed
to the hungry eyes in the dark.
Across from me, Luna stood radiant as Roman bound her in the same way. Her sheer fabric removed. The lace barely framing her nipples
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and her sex as her arms stretched above her, and the chains clicked as
they tightened.
And just like that, we were mirrors. Two bodies, strung up and
displayed like art.
The audience hushed, anticipation thick.
I could feel every ounce of fear in my veins, but underneath it, a heat burned so strong I wanted to scream. My cock swelled, traitorous, aching, and I hated myself for it. Hated how watching her chest rise and fall, the sheen of her skin under the lights, the calm on her face-
all of it made me harder.
Something was wrong with me.
Aiden leaned in close, whispering in my ear before stepping away.
“Remember your safeword.”
Roman’s voice carried through the room. “Tonight, a mirrored
performance. A lesson in symmetry, in pain and pleasure. Watch them
reflect each other.”
The lights shifted again, deep red now, music building slow.
And then the floggers came out.
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Leather strands caught the light as Aiden circled me, Roman circling her. The first strike landed across Luna’s chest–light, sharp, the kind
that made her back arch and her lips part. The next swept across my
ribs, warmth blooming in its wake.
My eyes shot to her.
She shivered, lashes low, mouth soft as she moaned. The marks painted her body in lines, delicate patterns of red under the rhythm of Roman’s wrist. I swallowed, hard. My skin burned where Aiden’s flogger landed, a hypnotic heat sinking deep.
And fuck me if I wasn’t fully hard–watching her but wanting him.
Wanting the look in his eyes as he struck me, heat and desire rolled
into one.
The floggers fell in rhythm–her body dancing under Roman’s hand, mine jerking against the chains under Aiden’s. The music pulsed, the lights flickered, the crowd watched in silence, breathless.
And all I could think was: I’m in so deep. Too deep.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
