Chapter 156
Noah
I thought we were going to the hotel. That was the plan–or at least
the one I’d been living in my head. But when we pulled into Aiden’s
driveway instead of downtown Houston, my heart went into
overdrive.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, but all I got was his unreadable
smirk.
Inside, he didn’t waste time. “Shower. Wait for me in the bathroom.
Naked.”
Oh, hell. My stomach flipped. That tone meant only one thing-
punishment. I’d been bracing for it since yesterday, but after the
luncheon, I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d let it go. Wishful
thinking.
Steam fogged the mirror as I stood there, dripping, pulse hammering.
My brain wouldn’t shut up. This could go so many ways, Noah. So many
fucking ways…
Then the door opened. He filled the space with calm authority.
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“Hands on the sink. Present.”
My throat dried. I obeyed, chest pressing against cool porcelain, ass
bared. Damn it. Here we go…
“You earned seven points yesterday,” he said, voice low and
deliberate. My stomach dropped. I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew it…
“And another three–for lying, hiding things from me, and acting
behind my back.”
My head snapped up.
“Wait–what??”
I mean, I had
but how the hell did he know?
He let the words hang, brutal in their weight. Shame lit me up from
the inside. My mouth worked faster than my brain. “Sir, I’m sorry–I
was going to tell you-”
“Too late, boy.” His hand pressed into the small of my back, keeping
me bent. With his other, he tore open a box I hadn’t even noticed. The
sound of cardboard ripping was louder than thunder in my ears. Some
black, slick, silicone device… About one and a half inches in diameter,
pine cone shaped.
“What’s that, Sir?” My voice cracked.
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“Your punishment.”
The click of the lube cap, the cool slick fingers spreading me, the
insistent pressure of something foreign pushing inside. My lungs
seized. What the hell…? A fucking butt plug?
“Relax,” he ordered, and I did–or tried to–as the plug slid deeper,
stretching, filling, until I thought I’d go mad.
I didn’t get a chance to catch my breath before he pulled out
something else. A different kind of trap. “Turn around.”
The chastity belt. My cock twitched in reflex, already half–hard,
already aching. He tapped it with two fingers hard enough that the
sting made my erection deflect at once. With that, he locked me in
before I could even think to protest.
I was humiliated, confused, guilty as hell–and back to getting so
hard it hurt.
Then, like none of it had happened, he went to the closet and pulled
out my black suit. White shirt. Shined shoes. He set them on the bed
like it was all perfectly normal. “Get dressed.”
My face burned hotter than the steam still clinging to the mirror.
Getting dressed after that? After what he’d shoved inside me and
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locked me into? Every movement would remind me of it, every step a
secret nobody else in the world could see.
And only when he’d ordered me into my clothes did he finally turn
back to the closet and pull out his own sharpest black suit. White
shirt, pressed crisp, the kind of tie that probably cost more than my
whole fucking wardrobe. He dressed like a king preparing for war.
And God, he looked lethal. Polished, perfect, devastating. Broad
shoulders filling the jacket, jawline sharper under the neat trim of his
beard, his eyes gleaming with that cold fire that owned me. I couldn’t
breathe.
I couldn’t understand anything–I was overly dressed for the club,
and I didn’t think that taking me out would qualify as punishment…
Not when we were both looking like royalty.
“Sir… you look incredible.” The words tore out of me before I could
swallow them. My throat worked. “But… I don’t get it. Where are we
going?”
He straightened his cuffs, smirked like the bastard he was, and
dropped it as casually as if he’d just asked me to fetch the salt.
“William Hart’s dinner party.”
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The Hart mansion was every bit as intimidating as I’d imagined-
columns, chandeliers, the kind of place that smelled like old money
and polished marble. And I was already sweating bullets before we
even got through the door, thanks to the plug shifting uncomfortably
with every step I took.
William greeted us with the kind of smile that made me want to crawl
into a hole and never come out. “Coach Aiden, what an honor. Thank
you for letting Noah off the leash for a bit. The boy’s been looking
forward to this all week.”
Kill me. Right here in the foyer.
Aiden’s expression didn’t move, but I swear I could feel the temperature drop five degrees. I plastered on my polite smile,
pretending my soul wasn’t shriveling.
William kept going. “Such a dedicated student. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, Aiden, or disappoint you or make you feel bad, after what you’ve done for him, right, son?”
Oh, my God. Shut. Up. Please. I wanted to strangle the man with his own bowtie. Instead, I nodded like a grateful little rookie and nearly
swallowed my tongue.
“Oh, nonsense-” Aiden smiled at me. “This boy here has done just as
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much for me. You should see some of his secret skills….”
I almost choked on my own spit then, the hallway blurring for a
second into hot, blood–roaring panic. William tapped my shoulder
with all the pride of a man who’d discovered a fine object at auction. “Well, I’m hoping he’ll be willing to share those secret skills with the
rest of us!”
Do not die. Do not faint. Smile like you mean it. Don’t let Aiden see
you crack–don’t let anyone see. My head was a carnival of terror and
embarrassment.
Lexie floated over, perfect hair, perfect dress, perfect smile. “Why
don’t I show Noah around before the others get here?” She looped her
arm through mine like she’d been born to claim me.
“Of course! Let the young ones have a little fun while we, responsible
elders, discuss business.” William agreed.
Responsible elders. Aiden was going to love that one.
She tugged me away, all sunlight and laughter, and I risked a look back. Aiden was leaning against a marble pillar, thumbs flying over his phone, smirk small and private. He glanced up, caught my eye for a beat, then looked down again. That glance–that little inward curl of his mouth–wasn’t amusement. It was ownership.
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Lexie introduced me to a parade of people–friends who laughed like
bells and touched my arm like they were tagging me as belonging to them. Compliments rained down, the kind that coil in your chest and make you dizzy. I smiled, answered, sipped champagne, and tried to
be charming.
Then–the plug hummed, startling me. I looked at Aiden in disbelief.
Oh, no, you didn’t–you sadistic motherfucker….
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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.
