Page 56 of Crown of Thorns
“You wouldn’t,” he hisses.
I give him a lazy smirk. “You’d be surprised. I’d do anything to keep you right where I want you.”
His hold on my throat tightens and I gasp for air, cock filling underneath my cloak. I’ve always loved a bit of breath play, though admittedly, I definitely love the roughness Noah’s into. Choke me all you like.
“You’re freaking crazy,” he sneers, face flushing from the lack of oxygen. “Let go of me, Louis, or I’m the one reporting you.”
“Ooh…I’m so scared now.”
He scoffs through his rasping breath, and I manage a smile. We’re both gasping for air. I want to play with him, piss him off, make him lose control. Stoic Noah is sexy as fuck, but when he is like this? Enraged and looking for my blood? Yeah, that makes my dick hard.
The moment Noah lets go of me, I drag him toward the blankets in the rose garden. He’s taken by surprise—the poor man probably thought I would let go as well—and those two seconds cost him. He falls flat on his back, snarling when I straddle his strong thighs.
“Louis…”
“Fuck this shallow shit, I want to see your darkness.” My hand cups his face gingerly, almost reverently. He’s the first guy I’ve let dominate me. Completely. It’s unnatural to give up control when I’ve always been the one pulling strings. But with him, I crave it. Crave the way his obscurity swallows mine, makes me feel something dangerous and real. Shove me around, slap my ass, bend me over.
What’s hidden in his shadows?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His gaze turns absent, but he doesn’t shake off my hands.
“This is the Atrium,” I disclose. My hands stretch around both his cheeks, pads of my fingers tracing the strong lines of his sharp cheekbones and nose. “It was built in the late eighteenth century by a man called Quentin Deveraux.” His eyes jump to mine. “Yes, he was my ancestor. He lived here, together with other families.” Leaning in, my tongue traces the lines of his pillowy lips. They’re slightly parted, his gasp filling the air when I shove him back onto the blanket for good measure. This new dynamic in our relationship is driving me crazy. Like I’m walking a tightrope between power and surrender, and every touch from him tilts me closer to falling. I’ve never needed anyone like this. Never wanted to be needed back. My handsmake quick work of opening his pants, sliding them down his thighs.
“After the French Revolution, lots of elite families fled the city. Some went to Germany and Italy, some came here.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” He licks his lips, his body shivering with the need to remain in control. Once I’ve got his pants out of the way and have opened his shirt, I open my cloak. He clears his throat, eyes narrowing. Not in surprise, but in confirmation. “You came down here naked?”
“Yes, Professor,” I smile, but my tone carries that bite I know drives him mad. “Just for you.” He looks like he wants to respond, wants to reclaim control, but I’ve already interrupted the moment. Sliding my hands over his warm skin, I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs. He doesn’t like being in this position. Although his dick wouldn’t agree, judging by the way it juts against his navel, hard and strained. My fingertips skid over his sac and fondle his balls. He stifles a groan and shakes his head. “Good. So, when all these families were here, they vowed history would not repeat itself. They created the brotherhood. The Alpha Fraternarii. They agreed on mutual values. Rebuilt their life here in Monterrey Castle. In time, many families moved back to Paris and reclaimed important roles in our society.”
“And the brotherhood remained to exist.”
“Yes, Professor. But it’s a secret. Something that was never meant for your eyes. That makes you an accomplice, which is why I could report you any time. Tell the board that Professor Montague let his sexy eyes sweep around where he shouldn’t.” I smile sweetly at him.
Bringing up his hand to my dick, I hiss when he grips it tight. He won’t go down with a fight, and I love that about him. “You fucking brat,” he hisses, though his eyes still look dazed. Tilting my head back, I smile at the moon and rock my hips into his fist. “You’ve been nothing but trouble ever since I met you.” Hisother hand slides under my cloak to the curve of my ass. “Is this what you want? For me to fuck you here in this place?”
“Hmm, I do. When my app showed that you were here, I got myself ready and hurried down.”
Noah shakes his head at me. “You’re insane. You mean to tell me you prepared yourself for me?” He slaps one of my ass cheeks and I hiss. “Want me to bring you some sanity?”
“Oh, no, I want all the sickness.” Bringing my hips up, I feel how he lines up against my hole, already wet and slick from the lube and my fingers. Our mouths crush together when he slips in. Noah groans when his tip breeches my fluttering hole, met by my quivering muscles. “Give it all to me,” I mumble against his lips.
“What is sanity without the craze? What is recovery without disease? The moment I saw you at that dinner, the moment I knew you were the same guy from the bar, I knew you were mine.” Rolling my hips, my greedy ass sucks in the rest of his dick. Noah’s nails scratch the skin. He looks up at me like he worships me. All his usual hard lines and sharp edges are smoothed into soft ecstasy.
Because of me.
And for some it might be wrong, the way I’m sitting on my professor’s dick, riding him. But I don’t give three flying fucks. Gyrating my hips, drawing out soft moans from Noah’s defeated self, feels like the sweetest of victories.
“Nothing can keep me from you, baby.”
He hisses, eyes rolling back when I scrape my nails on his defined chest.
“Give me your hate. Give me those fucking demons.”
“You don’t control me,” he says, snarling when I laugh at that.
“I control you, like you control me, baby.”
“You’re playing with my career.”
