"Good. That's exactly the sound I've been waiting for."
Asher's lips brushed past his ear before sinking down in a sharp bite. Noah's shoulders jerked, a muffled groan breaking loose as his body was pinned firmly against the couch.
The leather creaked under the weight, folding into deep wrinkles. Noah's back pressed flush against it, his breath coming far too fast, fingers digging into the armrest until his knuckles blanched.
He wanted to push back, to resist—but the contract he had signed with his own hand flashed through his mind, sending a chill straight through his chest. This wasn't the first time. He had no right to resist. And after days of back-to-back work, his body was already worn thin.
Asher caught his chin, forcing him to look up. His gaze was razor-sharp, though his mouth curved with a smile of possession.
"Not your first time. Stop acting so nervous."
His fingers trailed slowly down Noah's collarbone, deliberate and cruel, before flattening over his chest. Noah flinched, breath hitching sharply.
"Don't…" The word cracked out, ragged with exhaustion.
"Don't what?" Asher lowered his head, tongue dragging over the curve of Noah's ear before nipping again. "Don't let me continue… or don't let you enjoy it?"
Color flooded Noah's face. He clenched his teeth, but the small, broken sounds escaping his throat betrayed him.
Fabric tore open with a harsh rip, buttons scattering across the floor. Under the amber light, the lines of his lean stomach were left completely exposed. He curled instinctively, but Asher's palm pressed down hard on his waist, pinning him back into place.
"Relax." A low laugh rumbled against his ear.
Noah bit his lip, not daring to meet his eyes. Heat scorched across his ears, humiliation and something darker winding tight inside his chest. Resistance was useless. His own signature had sealed it—his body was nothing more than this man's plaything.
Asher's hand gripped his waist, searing and unyielding, holding him still. Fingers slipped lower, gliding over the flat of his stomach before pressing down over the most vulnerable spot. The pressure made Noah's entire body seize, his breath tearing short, nails carving into the couch.
"No… don't…" His voice quivered with desperate pleading. He knew the word "don't" wouldn't stop him—but still he said it, clinging to the faint hope that maybe, maybe it would.
A cold laugh brushed his ear. Asher's hand shifted, pressing harder, fingers moving with deliberate cruelty until he had him fully trapped in his palm. His voice rasped low:
"You're already hard."
Noah burned everywhere, shame making him dizzy. He tried to fight back, but his body had no strength left. Each stroke sent his breath spiraling apart, pulling soft, helpless moans from his throat.
"Too fast… slow down…" His broken voice trembled with shame and need.
The fabric was ripped away, cool air rushing over heated skin. His arousal lay bare in the light, seized mercilessly in Asher's hand. The friction was rough, unrelenting, until Noah's back arched and his legs trembled violently.
"Slower…!" The plea broke from him, fractured and humiliated.
Asher ignored him. His hand worked him harder, faster, until Noah's breath shattered and tears threatened to spill. Only then did he release him.
"Not yet," he murmured, voice curling dark.
His fingers slid lower, to the place Noah dreaded most. Calloused pads pressed against the tight, untouched rim, circling with teasing cruelty.
Noah jolted, eyes wide, thighs clamping shut on instinct. "No—don't—"
Too late. Asher forced his legs apart, body closing in. His finger traced slow, merciless circles at the entrance, voice low and commanding against his ear:
"Relax."
Noah shook, shame burning through the fear. His mind screamed to resist, but his body betrayed him, trembling under Asher's control.
The first finger pushed in. His body clenched around it, too tight, too hot. A strangled cry tore from his throat.
"Ah—!" His voice cracked, breaking into a sob.
Patient yet cruel, Asher worked him open, knuckles pressing deep, withdrawing only to thrust back in. Each time, his finger curled over that hidden spot, wringing shuddering gasps and sobs from Noah's lips.
"Get used to it," Asher muttered, mouth curved in a cold smile.
Tears blurred Noah's vision, his body trembling helplessly under the steady invasion. His cries grew more fragmented, breath unraveling until all that spilled from his lips were broken, shame-soaked sounds.
When his body finally loosened, Asher pulled his hand back, stripping away the last of his own clothes. The thick, burning length pressed against Noah's entrance, and his entire body went rigid, blood draining from his face.
Hot, terrifying reality hit him—he was going to take him.
The next moment, Asher drove inside.
Pain ripped through him, sharp and splitting. Noah cried out, his body arching like it had been torn apart. He had thought the second time would hurt less—but it still hurt. Maybe worse.
"Asher… no… too much… it hurts—ah!"
Asher bit his lips hard, voice dropping rough and guttural:
"You're so tight, of course it hurts."
Noah shook under him, pinned and filled, pain and unbearable pressure flooding through him. And beneath it, traitorous sparks of pleasure that made his head spin and his shame spike higher.
"Slow… slower… please…" His voice broke, raw with humiliation.
But Asher had no mercy. His hips drove forward, hard and unrelenting, pounding into him until the couch groaned and the leather bent under their weight.
Noah clawed the armrest, sweat dripping down his temple as tears streaked his face. He wanted to cry for him to stop—but only gasps and whimpers poured out instead.
"Asher… not… there—ah—!" His cries fractured, high and desperate.
Asher thrust deeper, biting his shoulder with a low growl. "Here? This spot feels the best, doesn't it?"
Noah shook his head wildly, only to scream again when the next thrust struck true. His body betrayed him completely, clamping tight, heat building until it left him writhing in shame.
"You say no, but you're squeezing me so tight." Asher's laugh was dark, dripping with possession.
Noah wanted to push him away, but his arms only clung tighter, as if drowning and clutching the only thing left to hold. His cries grew frantic, voice shredding as his body buckled under the force.
The room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping, wet friction, leather groaning under their rhythm—Noah's broken moans tangled in the heat, raw and uncontrollable.
His body reached its breaking point. Back arched high, sweat and tears blurring together, his climax tore through him violently. A strangled cry left his lips as his body convulsed, spilling helplessly over their stomachs.
That tight, pulsing squeeze dragged Asher over the edge. With a guttural growl, he thrust hard, burying himself deep as he spilled inside.
Noah quaked under him, breath shattered, body left trembling and hollow.
When the frenzy ebbed, only ragged breaths filled the silence. Asher finally pulled out, heading to the bathroom for a damp towel.
Noah lay limp across the couch, utterly spent, his body aching all over. His lashes stuck with tears, chest rising and falling unevenly, consciousness slipping toward sleep.
Asher returned, wiping him clean in silence. His touch was restrained now, cloth cool against overheated skin, making Noah twitch faintly, too tired to react.
"Don't move," he murmured quietly.
When Asher lifted him into his arms, Noah's head dropped weakly against his shoulder, breath already deep and drowsy.
In the bedroom's dim light, Asher laid him gently on the bed. Noah instinctively shifted, curling into the mattress. Just as Asher turned to leave, slender fingers caught on the edge of his shirt.
It was barely a grip, weak and trembling, more instinct than will.
Asher froze.
He looked down at the fragile hand clinging stubbornly to him. Noah's eyes stayed closed, his breathing steady—he had no idea what he was doing.
Silence stretched, heavy. Then Asher lowered himself onto the bed's edge, slowly gathering him back into his arms.
Noah stirred faintly, like a kitten seeking warmth, nuzzling closer before settling. His fingers still clutched the fabric of Asher's shirt.
A hard swallow moved down Asher's throat. He hadn't meant for this to be more than the contract demanded—yet here he was, unable to walk away.
Why?
He didn't have the answer.
Eyes dropping, his hand spread gently over Noah's back, following the steady rise and fall of his breath. In the quiet night, he realized—holding him like this didn't feel wrong at all.