Chapter 79: King Noah

Start what? I’m just eating my breakfast,” I said, taking a deliberate, slow bite of toast. I didn’t look at him. I focused entirely on the bread, savoring the silence.

Cassian cleared his throat. “We have a change of schedule. The site meeting is moved to tomorrow. We’ve been invited to the estate of Mateo de la Vega.”

I paused, toast mid-air. De la Vega was a name you only heard whispered in connection to massive land holdings and political pull that could move mountains. “Cool,” I said, not looking up. “Have fun with that.”

“You’re my assistant,” he said, his voice hardening. “You’re coming. De la Vega is hosting an afternoon of riding and skeet shooting. It’s a formality on behalf of my father, but a necessary one.”

“Actually,” I said, finally meeting his gaze with a sweet, vacant smile. “I’m taking a personal day. I’m very sore. And very tired. I think I’ll stay here, watch some Spanish soap operas, and maybe take a four-hour nap in your very expensive bed.”

Cassian’s jaw tightened. I could practically hear his teeth grinding. “That’s not how this works. You don’t get ’personal days’ when we are invited to a private estate.”

“You told me once that I could take time off if I needed it,” I lied. He’d never said that, but he couldn’t prove it. “And right now, I need it. My medical status is ’Critically Annoyed.’”

Cassian stared at me. He realized, in that moment, that I was absolutely doing this on purpose. The power dynamic hadn’t shifted back to his favor… it had entered a state of chaotic neutrality.

I took a sip of my coffee, looking at him over the rim of the cup. Checkmate, asshole.

He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He grabbed his charcoal blazer from the back of the chair, his movements clipped and efficient.

“Fine,” he said, his voice cold. “I have a brief meeting with legal first. I will give you the morning. But be ready by two o’clock. And Noah?”

He leaned over the table, his shadow looming. “I expect my previous instructions regarding the drawer to be followed. Your punishment is far from over. Don’t make me remind you who is in charge here.”

“I’m allergic to instructions,” I chirped. “Don’t work too hard!”

He walked toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. He looked back at me, his eyes dark and promising something far more intense than a site meeting.

“This isn’t over, Noah.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, picking up a grape and popping it into my mouth.

Cassian smirked despite himself, a flash of the Wolf returning. “You’re going to regret this.”

“Probably,” I agreed. “But so will you.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

I sat there for a long moment, the silence of the suite wrapping around me. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

My body still ached. I still felt like a walking bruise. But as I looked at the empty seat across from me, a small, satisfied smile crept onto my face.

I reached for my phone and sent a text to Alex Hendrix.

NOAH: Thanks for the drink last night. We should do it again sometime. Maybe when I’m not so ’neglected’.

I hit send and leaned back. Let the chaos begin.

For the next four hours, I lived like a king. Or at least, like a very pampered hostage.

I raided the minibar for a bag of artisanal Spanish potato chips that probably cost forty Euros. I turned the television to a channel playing a soap opera called Pasión de las Sombras, where everyone had incredible hair and spent eighty percent of the time slapping each other in slow motion.

I didn’t put the toy in. Obviously. I shoved the nightstand drawer shut so hard it rattled. Instead, I sprawled across the king-sized bed, wearing nothing but Cassian’s T-shirt, eating crumbs off my chest, and feeling like I’d finally won a battle in the Great War of Egos.

“Take that, Wolfe,” I mumbled, my eyelids getting heavy as the heroine on screen discovered her twin sister was actually her mother’s secret ghost. “I am the master of my own… fate…”

I drifted off to the soothing sound of Spanish yelling. It was the best sleep I’d had in weeks.

SMACK.

“AGH!”

‎I jolted back to the present with a sharp yelp as Cassian’s palm connected with my ass again, the sting blooming hot and sweet across my cheek, sending a ripple of tingles through my entire body.

My nipples, still sore from last night’s clamps, hardened instantly, scraping against the fabric of the borrowed t-shirt, and I bit down on my lip to stifle the involuntary moan bubbling up.

Fuck, it hurt, but in that twisted way that made my cock twitch despite everything. “Jesus, Cassian, that fucking hurts!”

I screamed, my voice hoarse from the night before, my face buried in the couch cushion where he’d pinned me down.

‎

I was no longer sprawled comfortably. I was face-down, my lower half draped over a pair of solid, expensive-slacked thighs.

My hands were pulled behind my back, bound tightly with a silk tie that smelled faintly of Cassian’s cologne.

‎Why is my life like this?

‎

‎In my head, I was dying, wishing I was still drunk, numb enough to blur out the humiliation of being sprawled over his lap like a naughty kid, my sweatpants yanked down to my thighs, ass bare and exposed in the broad daylight of the suite.

But no, I was stone-cold sober now, registering every degrading second: the cool air kissing my stinging skin, the way my hole clenched involuntarily under his gaze, my half-hard cock trapped between his thigh and my stomach, leaking a traitorous bead of pre-cum.

‎

‎Cassian’s chuckle was low and dark, his free hand rubbing the fresh red mark he’d just left, the touch almost soothing before he squeezed hard enough to make me gasp.

“This is what you get for thinking you can refuse me, Noah. You thought you could play games? Ignore my messages? Stay here like a lazy brat while I handle business?” His voice was heartless, laced with that possessive edge that made my stomach flip.

“I was simply taking a break.” I replied.

He landed another sharp slap, harder this time, the crack echoing through the room, the sting radiating deep, making my toes curl and my balls tighten.

“Look at this ass, so soft, turning such a beautiful shade of pink. And your greedy little hole… squeezing like it’s begging for more.”

‎

‎I tried to deny it, my face burning with shame. “I’m not, fuck you, I’m not begging for anything!”

But even as the words left my mouth, I felt it, the way my entrance fluttered excitedly under his scrutiny, still sensitive from last night’s plug, aching for something to fill it.

Humiliation washed over me in waves; I was supposed to be angry, resistant, but my body was a slut for his touch, nipples erect and throbbing, cock now fully hard and grinding subtly against his leg.

‎

‎”Fine, I’ll go!” I blurted, squirming wildly to get down from his lap, my tied hands, wait, when had he bound them behind my back with that silk again? limiting my escape, my ass cheeks rubbing together with every twist, the sting flaring anew. “But not because you’re making me, I’ve decided!”

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