Chapter 24
Aiden
The knock came right on time.
I already knew who it was–Noah, returning from the hotel restaurant with dinner. I’d sent him fifteen minutes earlier, no detailed instructions, inst: “They entrées. Something filling, something warm. Go.”
He hadn’t argued. Just nodded-“Yes, Sir“-and gone.
It was a small thing. A test. The first of many.
I opened the door and let him in. He held a paper bag with two steaming containers and a couple of wrapped utensils. Still in his hoodie, Beshed from the quick walk, but calmer now. More focused. He looked so proud of himself, balancing two cold drinks on the other hand and a few packs of seasoning in his mouth, smiling, like he’d just slain a dragon. I almost laughed. Almost.
Tonight wouldn’t be a scene. There would be no marks, no ropes, no demands he couldn’t handle. But it was the beginning
Our first night inside the dynamic.
Not as Coach and player.
Not as the boy and the man he couldn’t stop looking at.
Tonight, we would start building the thing that would carry us far beyond this hotel.
And while what I really wanted was more intense, more graphic, far more fun–involving his lips around my cock and maybe a whip in the background–I could wait. For now, dinner in my room would do.
We’d begin here. Quietly. With control.
And with that, I gestured to the table and said, “Set it down, and take your place.”
He obeyed, slightly breathless. “Smells amazing. I got what you suggested. Hope they didn’t mess it up-
“Noah.”
He froze.
I stepped closer. “Rule number one. When we are in private, and especially during training, you will address me as ‘Sir.‘ That begins now.”
His eyes widened slightly. “Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”
Much better.
I moved toward the small drawer in my nightstand and took out a narrow strip of black leather–soft, well–worn, but firm enough to sting. I didn’t raise it, didn’t explain. Just let him see it. His lips parted as he watched me slip it into my back pocket. Even if I didn’t use it tonight. I just needed him to know it
was there.
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Chapter 24
I gestured toward the carpet near the table. “Now. Kneel.”
He blinked. “Like, uh… how?”
Turns out I need to use it after all.
With a quick but well–trained swing of my hand, I took the leather strap and hit him on his thigh.
He jumped, startled and confused. After a moment’s hesitation, he immediately corrected his error. “Sir! Kneel how, Sir?”
“Formal posture. Knees shoulder–width apart. Back straight, hands clasped behind you, fingers interlaced. Head lowered–but keep your eyes on me unless! tell you otherwise.”
He hesitated for a second, then obeyed, fumbling slightly as he found the position. His hoodie still hung over his face like a curtain
“Take it off,” I said gently. “We spoke about that, and from this moment forward I will not repeat myself without consequences. I want to see you.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” He shrugged it down his arms, revealing flushed cheeks and a flicker of vulnerability I hadn’t seen in a while. His body adjusted. Slight tremor in the arms. A twitch in the thighs. Good. He was fighting his natural impatience and discomfort already.
I circled him once, slow and deliberate.
“You will remain here while I eat. Quiet. Still. Watching. This is not punishment–it’s practice. Anticipation. Obedience. Control.”
“What? You want me to watch you eat? But I thought-”
A harder blow from the leather strap over his other leg stopped him mid–sentence.
“You will never question your master; you will simply obey.
He nodded.
I gave him a look.
He winced. “Yes, Sir.”
I sat, slowly opening the takeout. The scent of grilled chicken and roasted potatoes filled the room, but I didn’t rush. I made every motion deliberate. My fork scraped against the container. Noah didn’t move.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
His breathing turned shallow. His thighs twitched. His hands flexed behind his back. But he didn’t speak.
I took my time, watching him more than the food. The effort it took for him to be still–it was all there. In the way he clenched his jaw. The sheen of sweat
at his temple. The curve of his fingers straining not to move.
When I finally finished and wiped my mouth, I stood and walked toward him.
He lifted his eyes slowly, unsure.
I said nothing at first. I just let the tension bloom. Let him feel the quiet.
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Chapter 24
PM
Then I brushed a hand gently over his head, letting my fingers graze his hair,
“You did very well, Noah.”
He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years.
1 lifted his chin gently, letting my thumb hover near the corner of his mouth.
God, he looked so beautiful it hurt–flushed, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.
This was the boy I’d seen under the defiance. The one who wanted to be good.
“Good job,” I murmured. “Now you may eat.”
He started to rise, but I pressed my hand firmly to his shoulder, halting him mid–motion.
“No, Noah. You don’t eat at the table unless invited.”
I reached for his plate, the scent of warm food briefly cutting through the tension as I set it on the floor beside him.
He looked at me like I’d kicked a puppy–betrayed, confused, maybe even a little heartbroken.
“Do you want me to-?”
“I expect you to,” I said, voice even. “When we’re alone, this is your place. Eating with me is a privilege you haven’t earned yet. Our training hasn’t formally begun, but understand this: nothing is a given. You will earn every single concession. You’ll be punished for every lapse, every assumption. But when you obey–when you offer yourself fully–you will be rewarded. Generously.”
His brow furrowed, lower lip tugged inward with worry. For a second, I wondered if I’d gone too far too soon–if the intensity was too much for him.
But then my eyes drifted lower.
His cock strained against his pants.
No. He wasn’t overwhelmed. He was starving for this.
“Yes,” he whispered, voice almost hoarse.
I raised a brow.
He exhaled sharply, then amended it. “Yes, Sir.”
Better. The title still tasted new on his tongue, but it thrilled him–I could see it in the heat rising in his cheeks.
He took the food without protest, settling back on his knees. Not once did he look up. He ate in complete silence, every bite methodical, like he was focused on getting it exactly right. A quiet offering of obedience.
When he finished, he dabbed at his lips with a napkin, mimicking the motion he’d seen me make earlier.
He cleared his throat softly.
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Chapter 24
“Sir, I am done.”
I let the words linger in the air a moment longer than necessary, watching the way he braced himself–waiting to be dismissed or murrected.
“Good,” I said finally. “Pick up both our dishes and go pack your things. We leave early tomorrow.”
I stood, letting my voice drop just a notch as he gathered the plates.
“When you return…”
I paused, meeting his eyes.
“…your reward will be waiting.”
And damn it, if he didn’t flush all over again.
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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.
