Page 57 of Crown of Thorns
“Hmm. Right now, I’m playing with a lot more than that. Your life. Your heart. Do you feel how your dick thrusts inside me? Do you feel how your toes curl?” My lips brush his. “Do you feel how your insides burn with need?” Noah growls. His hand on my dick tightens. “I can feel your heart beating for me. Can taste your denial on my lips. Here.” Kiss. “And here. It’s too late to pull away now. You are my accomplice. Together we are sinners.”
I see it then. His darkness. It overshadows his senses, but not before they make his eyes wide enough to look into those hidden depths. Noah wants to hide, but he’s unsure from what. He wants to lash out at his invisible demons. I think he also wants to protect and be protected, feel my limbs curl around his and cocoon him, sheltering him from the entire world.
Noah has a big brain that he depends on for survival because his heart is his weakness. It craves things he doesn’t know how to cradle, how to keep. And so he pretends he doesn’t need it.
But he can’t ignore me. With my weight on his thighs, his hand wrapped around my dick, he can’t grab it, can only take what I want. And I want to see him, want to know what I’m up against.
“Can you just imagine hearing the piano?” I reach my hands up, almost touching where the thorny branches of the rose bushes meet in the shape of an arch. Stretched out, I put my body on full display. I rumble when Noah’s greedy hand traces every line of my sternum, giving each inch of skin that same through devotion. It’s addicting, the way he worships me without realizing it. It feeds something inside me, some need to be more than desired. To be revered. To be his center of gravity, whether he admits it or not. Taking a nipple between two fingers, he has me wriggling in desire, hips picking up from their teasing roll. “Ffuckkk…so good.” I can just hear the notes, slow and dramatic, in my mind. Can imagine all my brotherswatching me here, riding Noah like the slut I am, my greedy pussy slotted around his weeping dick.
Noah’s still fighting me, snarling while his fingers fly from one nipple to the other, making me wheeze out. Rolling against his pelvis like a snake, my dick swells in his hold. “This place,” he manages through clenched teeth. “What happens here?”
“You already know.”
“It’s not just sex, is it?”
“No.” I pause, lowering my voice. “It’s anonymity. Hierarchy. Control. That’s what makes it dangerous.”
“You f-fuck…” I let out a loud moan when Noah leaned in and planted his palms on both sides. He takes control swiftly and mercilessly. His thrusts are fast now, clipped and deep, accompanied by grunts that make my eyes roll back. I’m close. I’ve never been fucked this way. His strokes match his fucking, making my dick swell with an urgency to blow, the sticky precum coating my stomach.
“I won’t last,” I warn. Noah lets out a muffled shout, his mouth pressed against the curve in my throat, dampening the skin with his outcry. And then he comes, thrusts going sluggish as he trembles against me.
“Putain,” he swears. “Your ass is heaven.”
That’s all it takes for me to lose all common sense. My toes curl as my orgasm slams through me, and I moan loudly as my cock spurts, coating Noah’s pecs and chin. My chest heaves, breath ragged, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. I can feel his smile against my throat as we mindlessly drift to yet another dynamic. One that’s uniquely designed for us.
As we walk upstairs, I realize that something happened down there, in the Atrium. Something raw and unscripted. Noah let his mask slip, for a second, and I caught a glimpse of the man beneath. It stirs something deep inside me. Something I don’t have a name for yet. Walls have come down, and Noah has shown a tiny bit of vulnerability.
I don’t even think he realized it.
I can’t fully grasp it either, but when we get back to Noah’s dorm, I know I don’t want this moment to end. He doesn’t stop me. Just lets me follow him in like I belong there. And fuck, maybe I do.
“What are those?” Noah walks up to the window where I’ve stashed a box of scented candles. He sniffs at them, then lets out an appreciative hum.
“You like? It’s jasmine.” I light one, then wrap my arms around him and inhale his skin. “Come to bed with me.”
In the corner near the window, I’ve left my bag slightly open, just enough for him to see what’s inside. A clean towel. A bottle of water. Jasmine balm. Nothing extravagant. But I watch his gaze flick toward it. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to.
“My bed, you mean? You invited yourself in. Again.”
“I did. Are you going to kick me out?” Noah lets out a heavy sigh. “You want to, don’t you, Professor? Want to tell me to get the fuck out of your space. But you can’t.” His frustration is palpable, and I lick it up, humming as I feel his defences fall into pieces. “You know, everybody wants what you’re having, Professor. Me, in bed, with you.”
He huffs. “Aren’t you a cocky, little thing?”
“I am.” He lets himself be dragged to the bed, the room in darkness aside from the candle and a dim light that sits against the wall across from us. “Tell me what you saw that night, baby,” I murmur, tone low and careful, not teasing now, but searching.I need to hear him say it. Need to know if he saw what I wanted him to.
“Cloaks. Masks. Rules.”
“Rules, yes,” I nod. “Privilege. Power.”
“Is that when business deals are signed?”
“No. But the gatherings can lead to deals. And to decisions.”
“Decisions…do you have a voting system?”
“We do. And we have different layers of importance.”
“What does that mean?”
