Aiden
God, Noah looked fucking insane.
Not just because of the smooth leather thong hugging his ass, the silver O–ring at his throat, or the brand–new cage glinting at the apex
of his thighs. It was the contrast… him pale and bound in white, while
I was in black leather head to toe. The devil and his angel.
Though my boy was hardly an angel–just saying. The blush creeping
above his mask when he shrugged off his coat proved it.
He wanted this. Mortified, sure, but obedient and stubborn enough to
prove to me he could handle it–that he wasn’t going anywhere. And
damn, I had to admire him for that.
He dropped to all fours without me saying a word. Knees on marble,
head bowed, hands spread–every inch of him screamed surrender.
Christ, he was learning. And fuck if that didn’t make me hard.
I let my palm drift casually over the back of his neck as Hale
approached, just to feel the tremor there. Obedience–yes. Terror too.
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The perfect mix. My boy.
As we moved to meet Hale, I noticed Noah crawling like he was trying
not to crack eggs with each step. Flinching, muttering God knows
what under his breath. For all his determination, we really needed to
work on his grace.
He must’ve caught my look, because he gave the tiniest shrug,
matter–of–fact.
“Sir,” he whispered, voice dry with nerves, “have you tried this floor?
I need kneepads.”
My mouth twitched. Smartass. Even terrified, the brat couldn’t help
himself. I tugged his collar just enough to remind him who owned
him. “Maybe I’ll buy you some–along with a muzzle.”
The grin slipped out before I could stop it.
We weren’t introduced this time. We were received. Immediate nods
from staff. Welcoming glances from members. A strong handshake
from Master Hale himself, stepping forward in a tailored black suit
with a crimson vest–sharp as a blade, smooth as sin. His eyes flicked
over me, approving, before sliding to Noah.
And what I caught in that look… I couldn’t pin down. Curiosity.
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Admiration. Definitely lust… For me? For Noah? Maybe both.
“Welcome back,” Hale said warmly, shaking my hand. “No need for
introductions this time. You are one of us now.”
The weight of those words hit deep. For once, I wasn’t the outsider
clawing my way in. I was… home.
We were led to his office–dark wood, leather chairs, the faint bite of
oak and smoke. Noah crawled to my feet as I sat, posture perfect,
every nerve in him wound tight.
Hale poured two glasses of scotch and passed me one. “Your
performance last time was remarkable,” he said. “As I mentioned
before, we’ve followed your work for years. To watch you again was a
privilege.”
My chest tightened, but my face stayed calm. “I appreciate that.”
He leaned back. “Your membership grants you access to everything-
training rooms, stages, private chambers. Bring your clients, your
submissives. We would be honored to waive fees and offer you a
position here. Exclusive. As one of our trainers. One of our Masters.”
At my side, Noah froze. Held his breath. I felt it against my thigh
where he leaned, his body strung so tight it vibrated through me. I
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slid my fingers through his hair–not just to steady him, but to steady
myself. To remind me what really mattered.
Pride swelled hot. The honor. The recognition. For a heartbeat, I saw
myself there again–leading, commanding, being somebody, but then
reality snapped back–my boy trembling under my hand, my team
depending on me, my time already stretched to hell.
I set the glass down. “It’s an incredible offer. I’m honored. But for
now–I have to decline.”
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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.
