Chapter 102

Noah

In theory—and to anyone else watching—this was every guy’s dream.

Well… maybe not the part where I was on stage, chained up, getting my dick sucked in front of a fucking massive audience. But still. Luna was the kind of girl guys would sell their souls for. She was out of most leagues, a walking fantasy. And she was on her knees in front of me, lips wrapped around my cock, going at it like she was born for this.

Sensual. Erotic. Fucking incredible.

I was so hard it hurt, every nerve in me on fire, my thighs trembling, hips jerking to meet her mouth. Any normal guy would’ve thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

But my eyes? They weren’t on her. Not her glossy amber eyes tearing up when I hit her throat, not her full lips wrapped around my erection, not her perfect tits bouncing with every thrust.

They were on him.

It was Aiden’s mouth I wanted. Aiden I wanted to fuck. Aiden I wanted to please.

Hell, I would’ve chosen to suck his cock—starving and deprived, like he’d kept me for weeks—over this any day.

But my body didn’t care. My body was panting, trembling, and thrusting into her throat like the horny bastard it was. My cock pulsed, swelling, desperate to finish.

And then I saw him. No way.

That fucking boy—Anthony. On his knees between my Master’s legs. And just what the hell did he think he was doing, fumbling with his belt, putting his goddamn hands where they didn’t belong? The fucking nerve.

My pulse spiked a thousand miles an hour.

But then—Aiden let him.

Worse—he wanted it. I saw it in the way his hand slid down, slow and sure, caressing Anthony’s jaw before gripping his hair tight, tilting his head just so. And then he guided him down onto his cock.

And my heart broke.

Because right there, watching Anthony take him in deep, listening to Aiden’s moan tear through the music, I understood. The door swung both ways.

Anthony locked eyes with my Master, sucking him like he’d been trained for it, which he obviously had—hungry, reverent, desperate to please. And Aiden? He didn’t just take it. He fucked into it. His hips snapped forward, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded, lost in the rhythm.

My chest seized. My throat burned.

Was he better than me? Did it feel better than me?

Every sound Aiden made, every thrust of his cock into that boy’s mouth felt like a knife in my ribs. His pleasure lit up his face, and my entire world tilted sideways.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was mine.

What the hell have I done?

My cock went soft despite Luna working me like her life depended on it. I was letting her down, letting Roman down, probably letting the whole goddamn room down. But I didn’t care. Not when my chest felt like it was caving in.

My eyes burned. Tears. Fucking tears threatened to spill, like I was some emotional, jealous wreck. I stepped back from her, heart hammering, and kissed her forehead like some pathetic apology. She just nodded, like she understood, like she knew this wasn’t about her at all.

Then I crawled.

Every inch forward was humiliation. I was begging for him. Begging for his attention back. Crawling to my Master while another boy—beautiful, perfect Anthony—was still on his knees, sucking him so flawlessly it made me wanna to puke.

I should’ve been embarrassed. I should’ve hated myself. But all I wanted was him.

And before I even got the words out, before I even had to look weak in front of the entire room, Aiden looked at me.

Just looked at me.

Then he gently pulled Anthony off his cock, with a soft murmur of thanks and a grateful kiss to his temple, sending him back to his Master.

And then—me.

All of him. All of his attention. On me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, voice breaking. “I can’t.”

And before I could say another word, his mouth was on mine, crushing, desperate, everything I’d needed. My world snapped back into place.

When he broke away, his eyes were fire as he pushed me down, guiding me to take Anthony’s place. To finish what had been started.

And I did—his cock filling my mouth, his taste on my tongue, his hand gripping my hair like he’d never let me go.

Across the stage, Luna mirrored me, her lips around her own Master. The audience roared, but I didn’t hear them.

There was only him.

The second my lips wrapped around him, my body came back to life. My cock sprang hard again, throbbing, aching, desperate. This was the right kind of need—the only kind that mattered.

I didn’t think about Anthony anymore. Didn’t think about the room full of people, or Luna moaning across from us, or even the mask hiding my face. It was just me and him. My Master.

I gave him everything. Not trying to compete—though fuck, it had crossed my mind—but pouring every ounce of me into it. Every emotion. Every regret. Every apology I couldn’t say out loud. My throat opened for him, my tongue worked him, my chest heaved as I gagged and pushed through it, needing him to feel how much I was his.

His hand gripped my hair, his hips snapping forward, faster, harder. His cock throbbed against my tongue, salty pre-cum sliding down my throat as his moans grew darker, hungrier. He was close. So goddamn close.

And then—he pulled out.

Disappointment hit like a punch. My whole body screamed at the loss.

Until he shoved me forward, chest down, ass up. Chains rattled as he forced me onto all fours, and before I could even breathe, I felt the hot slick of spit on my hole.

Then him.

Thick, unrelenting, stretching me wide as he drove into me with one hard thrust.

I gasped, my knees skidding on the stage, my cock bouncing heavy between my thighs. The noise from the crowd blurred into static as the only thing I felt, the only thing I was, was him. His cock hammering my sweet spot, over and over, every thrust breaking me apart, rebuilding me around him.

“Fuck—Sir—” I choked, but the words broke on a moan.

Roman’s satisfied grin flashed in the corner of my eye as he pushed into Luna the same way, their bodies echoing ours. But I didn’t care. I only cared about Aiden. His breath ragged, his body unhinged, his cock owning every inch of me.

And when I thought I couldn’t take more, his arm wrapped around me, strong and grounding, his hand fisting my cock in time with his thrusts.

“Come for me, baby boy.”

I lost it.

The pressure shattered, cum spilling hard and hot over his fist, my cry swallowed by the roar of the audience. My body seized around him, gripping him tight, and that was it for him too.

He slammed deep, grinding against my prostate as he groaned my name into the shell of my ear, his release flooding me, thick and hot. His hips stuttered, his cock jerking inside me as he emptied everything he had.

We collapsed together, panting, trembling, my body still milking him even as the world blurred and disappeared.

Across the stage, Roman climaxed with a growl of his own, dragging Luna into his lap, both of them gasping and shining under the lights.

But me? I only knew one thing.

I was his.

Even if it killed me.