Page 44 of Crown of Thorns
His cock springs free, flushed and wet. “Need to taste you. Hmm.”
He tastes fucking fantastic. Salty and like sex. His arms tighten around my waist, and he lets out a guttural moan. He wraps his lips around my cock once more and I grunt, rolling my hips against his mouth, making him choke.
Fire licks my insides and I groan around his dick as the orgasm starts building up. With Noah losing all common sense right below me, I’m going for utter destruction. He reaches that point first, body stuttering while his muffled grunts turn wild. His shaft swells in my mouth, and then I taste it; an explosion on my tongue. It spurs me on, makes me lose all control as tremors slam right through me, making me hum while I swallow Noah down. Fuck, this feels so fucking good. I will never be able to get enough from him. He’s the only one I want right now, and fuck, I’ve never been so sure of anything in the moment. Keeping his head firm against my groin, I make him choke on my cock, make him splutter and wheeze.
“Fuck yeah, baby…fuck, you’ve got me…” Coming. Seeing stars. Wave after wave of pleasure rocks through me as I unload down his throat. When I finally come to, he’s a mess. Red cheeks, wet from tears, lips puffy and leaking cum and saliva. His eyes flash, but he lets me manhandle him anyway, something in him softening, just enough. There’s something tender about it, like he’s letting me win. For now. But I know better. He’ll fight back. He always does, and I fucking live for it.
“There. Your room has been baptized.” He lands in my embrace, chin tucked under mine, his body a quiet weight against my chest. We stay like that, tangled in breath and bare skin, for what feels like forever. I expect the fight to return, for him to push me off, to reassert whatever line we crossed, but it doesn’t come. Not yet.
His limbs are heavy, but not yielding. His breathing steady, but not asleep. He’s present. Raw. Unraveled.
Outside, the sun sinks lower, casting long, syrupy shadows across the floor. The sky bruises from gold to crimson to deep indigo.
“What a mess,” he murmurs.
Not to me. Not really. More like a thought spilled into the quiet. But it guts me anyway.
I want to freeze this moment. Frame it in gold leaf and hang it in a cathedral. Because no matter what comes next—his regret, his silence, his fury—thiswas real.
Minutes later, he drifts off, snoring softly. My chaos, tucked against my chest like he was made to ruin me.
I want to freeze this moment. Steal it, keep it locked inside me like something no one else gets to touch. Because no matter what comes next, his regret, his silence, his fury,thiswas mine.
It’s night, though not late. It’s the kind of quiet that hums with unsaid things. The dorm is cloaked in soft moonlight, casting silver across the old floorboards and the rumpled sheets. It’s the first night either of us has slept here, and somehow that feels important, like the start of something neither of us is ready to name, but both of us feel coming. And selfishly, I want to be the one he names it for. The one he dreams about in this bed, under this moon.
12
LOUIS
Iwake up to the sound of my phone buzzing. My eyes flutter open, squinting at the morning light. Fuck, did Arthur not shut the blinds? I sit up, disoriented, and then it hits me. I’m not in my own bed.
Last night actually happened.
A grin tugs at my lips as heat coils low in my stomach. Less about the blowjob, more about what it meant. Still…
His side of the bed’s empty. Where the fuck is he?
I dive for my pants in a puddle on the floor, the phone still buzzing. Falling out of bed with a curse, I swipe to answer. “Motherf—yeah?”
“Where the hell are you?” Gaël barks. “You’re clearly not in your bed.”
“Clearly.”
“Ha. Ha. Not funny. Give your twin a call, because Arthur’s already going through all the dorms.”
I put on my shirt, not bothering to close the buttons. “He’s such a fucking nerd.”
“Yeah, well…text him.”
“I will.”
“And, bro?”
“Yeah?”
“Whereareyou?”
“I might tell you someday.”
