Noah waits. Sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, jeans half-unbuttoned, his foot tapping against the wooden floor. His phone screen lights up: Arrived.
He lifts his head toward the slightly open door. Heavy footsteps echo down the hallway, thick soles hitting the tiles with a steady, deliberate pace. The elevator was quick, or maybe the other one rushed, burning with the same urgency that curls a smirk at the corner of his lips.
His heartbeat kicks up when the handle turns. The door swings open, no hesitation, no caution. He doesn’t even need to look up to know it’s him.
Aaron.
He stands in the doorway, massive, shoulders filling the frame. His black hoodie clings to broad muscles, the hood pulled over dark hair, cropped short on the sides. His gaze locks, unwavering. Jaw clenched, a shadow of stubble darkening the hard cut of his face. His presence alone shifts the air.
“Expecting someone else?”
That voice—low, coarse, thick like smoke. It lands between them, vibrating in the space, in Noah’s chest. He shakes his head, the smirk deepening, the tension pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Aaron steps inside, shuts the door, locks it in one sharp motion.
The air between them is charged, thick.
Electric.
Aaron moves in slowly, the deliberate prowl of a man who already knows he’s going to take exactly what he wants. Noah doesn’t move, playing at defiance, letting the other man crowd him, let his size, his scent, consume him.
“Stand up.”
Noah obeys without a word, his bare chest brushing against the rough fabric of Aaron’s hoodie, his hardened nipples catching on the fabric like a sharp, cold burn. A large hand lands on his hip, grips tight—fingers digging into the flesh, possessive.
Then Aaron kisses him.
Not gentle. Not soft. It’s a claim, a raw dominance. His lips crush Noah’s, his tongue forcing inside, demanding, exploring with brute intensity. Noah moans into the kiss, feels himself shoved back against the wall, Aaron’s unrelenting grip holding him there, breath hot against his cheek.
Their hands are restless. Noah fists the hoodie, yanks Aaron closer, fingers sliding beneath it, finding the feverish heat of his body. His torso is rigid, taut, covered in a fine layer of dark hair. His stomach, hard and sculpted, his skin scorching under Noah’s greedy palms.
Aaron growls when fingers scrape over his abs, and then, with a rough tug, he yanks Noah’s jeans down, brutal, impatient. Noah arches against the wall, exposed, lips parted, breath ragged.
A hand ghosts over his lower stomach, teasing, barely touching—just enough to make him shudder, to pull a frustrated gasp from his throat. Aaron wants him desperate.
“You want it, don’t you?”
Noah nods. Wants it. Needs it. More than that.
Noah stands pressed against the wall, his chest heaving under the rough scrape of Aaron’s touch. The air between them is thick, heavy with that primal tension that coils tight before it snaps.
Aaron takes his time, eyes dark as they roam over the cut of Noah’s abs, the sharp ridge of his collarbones, the tightness in his jaw. Noah’s breathing is shallow, lips still slick from a kiss that left him wrecked.
Slowly, deliberately, Aaron grabs his chin, fingers strong, applying just enough pressure to force Noah’s gaze up to meet his.
“Open your mouth.”
Noah obeys.
Aaron smirks, then slides two fingers against his lips, pushing them inside, slow, deliberate. The heat of Noah’s tongue wraps around them instantly, wet, eager. He hollows his cheeks, sucking deep, spit trailing down the thick digits. He doesn’t look away, eyes locked onto Aaron’s, taunting, pleading at the same time.
A deep, guttural sound rumbles from Aaron’s chest. His free hand snakes around the back of Noah’s neck, grips hard, yanks him forward until their bodies collide—heat against heat, rigid muscle against rigid muscle.
“On your knees.”
Noah sinks down, unhurried, his stare never breaking.
Aaron towers over him, standing just a little straighter as he unbuttons his jeans, shoving them down with one motion. His boxer briefs follow, and the sight of him is brutal, mesmerizing. Thick, heavy, throbbing with anticipation.
“Now, do what you’re here for.”
Noah licks his lips. Then he leans in.
Aaron closes his eyes for a moment, letting the sensation take over—the wet heat of Noah’s mouth, the scorching glide of his tongue, the way he devours him with raw, animalistic hunger. Aaron’s hand fists in his hair, fingers gripping tight at the nape of his neck, controlling the rhythm.
“Harder.”
Noah doesn’t hesitate. He moves faster, cheeks hollowing, throat opening to take everything Aaron gives him. He wants all of it. Wants to feel the pulse, the tension, the way Aaron’s body reacts to him.
A deep growl escapes Aaron’s chest, his stomach tensing, a shudder ripping through his spine. His hips push forward, forcing Noah to take more, to surrender to the pace he sets.
Spit drips down Noah’s chin, his breath coming in short, desperate bursts, his own arousal pushing him to the edge. He’s feverish, consumed by the sheer intensity of giving, of losing himself in the pleasure he’s pulling from Aaron’s body.
“Fuck—”
Aaron stops.
Sudden. Brutal.
He grips Noah’s shoulders, drags him up with a force that leaves him gasping. His eyes are wild, burning, something dark and dangerous flickering in his pupils.
Then he throws him onto the bed.
He’s on him in seconds, pressing Noah down with the full weight of his body, pinning him beneath unrelenting heat, skin against skin, a hand wrapping tight around his throat.
“I decide when this ends.”
Noah shudders.
He loves this.
Aaron doesn’t hold back anymore. Noah is beneath him, panting, trembling with anticipation, wrists pinned in Aaron’s firm grip. The air is thick, charged with raw electricity, the kind that crackles just before the storm.
A shiver runs through Noah as Aaron loosens one hand, trailing two fingers slowly down his neck, over the curve of his back. His palm maps the heat of Noah’s skin, the way his body reacts, twitching under his touch. He lets his fingers tease, barely there, provoking, until Noah can’t stay still, a ragged moan slipping past his lips despite himself.
“Look at me,” Aaron murmurs.
Noah lifts his gaze, breathing heavy, pupils blown wide with arousal. Aaron watches him for a moment, savoring that mix of submission and defiance. Then, with brutal efficiency, he flips him over, presses his chest into the mattress, his fingers digging into his hips.
He wants him now.
And when he takes him, it’s with an uncontrollable hunger, a raw ferocity that sends the bed slamming into the wall. Noah muffles a cry, fists clutching the sheets, his entire body tensed under the onslaught. Aaron claims him without restraint, keeps him there, held firm against him, his breath scorching hot against the back of his neck.
“You’re mine,” he growls, his grip tightening on Noah’s waist, making damn sure he won’t escape what’s being given to him.
Noah arches beneath him, pleasure tangled with pain, a deeper, guttural moan ripping from his throat. He feels Aaron everywhere—in every muscle, every nerve, every pulse of heat searing through his skin.
Aaron moves harder, faster, completely lost in the moment, his sculpted body straining with exertion. Noah can’t think anymore.
He can only feel.
Can only surrender to the storm that’s swallowing them both whole.
Aaron is no longer a tender lover. He is an animal, a predator taking what’s his with ruthless possession. Noah is beneath him, drenched in sweat, his powerful body crushed into the mattress, his thighs spread wide to take him over and over again. His voice is gone—only broken moans remain, strangled cries teetering between agony and ecstasy.
The bed creaks beneath them, every brutal thrust driving Noah against the wall in a relentless rhythm. Aaron’s torso gleams under the dim light, sweat tracing down the ridges of his back, muscles flexing, coiling with every brutal snap of his hips. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t hold back—his hips slam with a force that makes skin slap against skin, leaving angry red marks on Noah’s offered flesh.
Aaron grips his hair, yanks his head back hard enough to expose his throat, forcing submission. He bites, licks, growls against the bruised skin, his breath hot, possessive.
“Look at me when you come,” he commands, voice thick, rasping with dominance.
Noah tries—his eyelids heavy, his pupils blown wide with surrender. But he has no strength left.
So Aaron takes him differently. He flips him over, sits back on his heels, grips his hips like a man seizing something he owns. He lifts him, impales him deeper, forces him to feel everything—down to his core, down to the marrow.
“Fuck,” Aaron growls, “this what you wanted?”
Noah doesn’t answer. His body does. He’s trembling, surrendering, his abs tightening under the oncoming wave that’s about to consume him. Aaron feels it. He wants to watch him shatter in his arms, to hear him scream beneath him.
He slams into him harder, rougher. His hand snakes between them, grips tight, strokes with just enough pressure to send Noah over the edge with a hoarse, broken cry. His muscles clamp around Aaron in a vicious hold, ripping a primal snarl from his throat.
It’s too much. It’s now.
Aaron sinks his teeth into Noah’s shoulder, groaning, breaking apart with a deep, possessive growl. He spills into him in a savage spasm, fingers digging into already bruised flesh, claiming him to the last breath.
They collapse into the heat, the wreckage.
Noah doesn’t move. He’s wrecked, limp, his chest barely rising under Aaron’s erratic breaths. He’s still draped over him, still holding him down, still possessive even in the aftermath. The air is thick with sweat, with sex, with the unmistakable scent of spent, satisfied men.
Aaron leans up slightly, his gaze tracing over Noah’s body, over the marks on his skin, the swell of his chest gleaming under the dim light. He runs a hand over his own sweat-slicked torso, down his abs, his lower belly where stray drops still glisten. He likes what he sees. He likes what he’s made of him.
His fingers slip into Noah’s hair, tugging him up, forcing their mouths together in a kiss that isn’t sweet, isn’t gentle. It’s a claim, a silent reminder— you belong to me.
“You’re a damn good guard dog,” Aaron murmurs against his lips.
Noah smirks, exhausted but smug.
“So are you,” he mutters, his hand trailing down Aaron’s chest, tracing the deep ridges of his abs, lower still, testing if there’s anything left in the beast.
Aaron chuckles darkly, grips his wrist, shoves him back down into the mattress.
“Not satisfied yet?”
His teeth graze over Noah’s throat, over the bruises already blooming there, pressing his weight against him, letting him feel every inch of his heat, his strength.
Noah growls beneath him.
Neither of them is sleeping tonight.
