Chapter 104: Shattered Control 2
Damon’s POV
Micah let out a soft gasp as my hands dug into his flesh. He arched his back, throwing his head all the way back into the crook of my neck. "Yes..." he whispered, his breath hot against my collarbone. "Rougher, Damon... don’t listen to him..."
"See?" I sneered at Noah, my teeth brushing against the skin of Micah’s throat, biting down just hard enough to elicit a sharp moan. "He likes it rough. He wants to be broken."
Noah watched us quietly for a moment. His face remained an unreadable mask, but I saw the subtle shift in his posture... the way his shoulders squared, the way the vein in his temple pulsed once. He was pretending he wasn’t unaffected as he pretended to be.
Without a word, Noah reached out and grabbed Micah by the nape of his neck. His grip wasn’t harsh like mine With a single, smooth motion, he pulled Micah’s head away from my shoulder and dragged him forward, capturing Micah’s mouth in a slow, deep, devastating kiss.
Micah made a smothered noise against Noah’s lips, his entire frame going limp under Noah’s dominance. Where my touch was a raging storm of friction and rough demands, Noah’s kiss was an absolute takeover. He didn’t rush. He took his time, his tongue sweeping inside Micah’s mouth, claiming every inch, stealing the air right out of his lungs until Micah was squirming helplessly, his hands clutching desperately at Noah’s shoulders for support.
I sat there, frozen, watching the two of them. My hand was still locked on Micah’s thigh, feeling the tight spasms running through his muscles as Noah thoroughly dismantled his breath.
Fuck.
My jealousy ignited. I couldn’t just sit back and watch Noah take total control of something we were both caught up in.
I reached around Micah’s waist, pulling his body roughly back against my chest while Noah was still kissing him. I leaned up, my mouth finding the base of Micah’s neck, biting down firmly on the soft pulse point right above his collarbone.
"Ngh!" Micah broke the kiss with Noah, letting out a loud, shuddering cry as my teeth sank in. His body twitched wildly between the two of us, trapped in a vice grip of contrasting forces... Noah anchoring him from the front with possessiveness, and me gripping him with aggressive hunger.
"Focus on me, Micah," I growled against his skin, my hand sliding under the bunched-up dress to grip his bare hip, pulling him back against my throbbing core. "I brought you into this room. You don’t get to ignore me now just because Noah showed up."
Micah trembled violently, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused, moving back and forth between my furious face and Noah’s calm, lethal stare.
"I’m not... ignoring you..." Micah panted, his hand reaching back weakly to clutch at my hair. "Damon... it feels... too much..."
"Hmmm," I growled, kissing the sensitive spot beneath his ear with deliberate, forceful pressure. "It should feel like too much. You brought this on yourself."
Noah didn’t push me away this time. Instead, he reached over, his large, warm palm resting over mine on Micah’s waist. The heat of Noah’s hand on top of mine sent a strange, electrifying jolt straight through me. We were both holding him now.
"That’s enough roughing him up, Damon," Noah said softly, his voice dropping an octave into that deep, command tone that nobody in our crew ever dared to disobey. "He’s reached his limit."
"He isn’t done yet," I argued, though my breath was just as ragged as Micah’s. "Look at him, Noah. He’s still burning up."
"Because his mind is spinning from the alcohol," Noah replied smoothly. He leaned in close, his face inches from Micah’s flushed cheek. "Micah. Look at me."
Micah whimpered softly, forced to obey the calm authority in Noah’s voice. He dragged his heavy gaze up to meet Noah’s dark eyes. "Noah..."
"We are going home now," Noah stated, his tone leaving zero room for negotiation. "George Jenson is no longer a problem. The club is taken care of. You’ve had your little fun tonight, but the game is over."
"No..." Micah mumbled weakly, though his body was completely betraying him, sinking heavier into my chest as fatigue finally began to overpower the alcohol. "Not yet... stay..."
"I’m not leaving you," Noah said softly. He slid one arm behind Micah’s knees and the other around his back, smoothly lifting Micah out of my lap and into his arms.
The sudden loss of Micah’s heat made me shudder. I sat back on the leather bed, my chest rising and falling heavily, my clothes still ruined and my pulse still racing out of control. I felt entirely raw, stripped of my usual cool composure, looking like a total mess in front of my captain.
Noah stood up, holding Micah securely against his chest. Micah’s head slouched against Noah’s shoulder, his eyelids fluttering closed as the exhaustion finally claimed him, his breathing slowing into steady, soft hitches.
Noah turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto me as I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to pull my jacket over my lap to hide the state I was in.
For a long moment, silence stretched between us in the red room.
"Get up, Damon," Noah said quietly. "Adjust your clothes. We’re leaving through the back exit before Eve brings the security team upstairs."
I took a deep, shaky breath, running a hand through my messy hair as I forced myself to stand up. My legs felt slightly weak, but the sharp sting of reality was finally settling back in.
"He’s crazy, you know that right?" I muttered, leaning against the bedpost as I fixed my clothes as best I could. "He almost set off a war in this club tonight."
Noah looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms, his thumb lightly brushing across Micah’s forehead, sweeping away a stray lock of hair calmly.
"He is," Noah agreed softly, a faint, almost invisible curve touching the corner of his lips before his face returned to stone. "And tomorrow morning, when he wakes up sober... he’s going to answer for every single second of it."