His Possession

Chapter Twenty One

Noah's pov:
I'd tried to resist. I really had. This was dangerous for the both of us.

Perhaps I would've succeeded if Michael was just beautiful and nothing else. Beauty on its own, meant nothing to me.

But that was the problem. Michael wasn't beautiful and nothing else. He was everything. Warmth, strength, compassion, humor. I saw it in the way he laughed.

Spain had been a crack, but this? This was full on obliteration.

The grass rustled as Michael and I made our way to the gazebo. We'd snuck out the moment everyone esd deep into their slumber.

Was what we were doing, what we were going to do a bad idea? Fuck yeah. Ours was a story destined for a tragic ending, but when you were already on a train headed off the cliff, all you could do was hold on tight and make every second count.

We stayed silent until we reached the gazebo, where he walked in the middle and took it all in.

"No one comes here?" He asked

"Not a soul."

"Good." His response came out slightly breathless.

Italy was warmer than England and we got away with not wearing jackets. I wore a grey t shirt and black joggers while Michael was wearing a normal white jumper with black baggy jeans that swirled around his thighs.

I drank him in, not missing a single detail. The wisp of hair curling around his face, the nervous anticipation in his eyes, the way his chest rose and fell in time with my own uneven breaths.

Part of me wanted to march over, yank his jeans off and fuck him right then and there.

Another part of me wanted to savor the moment, the last wild, beating seconds before we destroyed whatever was left of our boundaries.

I was a rule follower by nature. It was how I'd survived most of my life. But for Michael, I would break every rule in the book.

"So." Michael tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, his hands trembling.
"Now that we're here, what do you have planned, Noah?"

I smiled, slow and wicked, and a small, visible shiver rippled through his body.

"I have lots of plans for you, prince, and every single one ends with my fingers, tongue or cock inside your sweet little ass."

I didn't waste time beating around the bush. This had been along time in the making, ever since I stepped into the basement of his house and saw him walk in, staring back at me with those big blue eyes.

Michael-Rose Afton was mine and mien alone. It didn't matter that he wasn't mine to take. I was taking him anyway, and if I could tattoo myself onto his skin, bury myself into his heart, and etch onto his soul, I would.

His eyes widened, but before he could respond, I closed the distance between us and grasped his chin with my hand.

"But first, I want to make one thing clear. From this point on you're mine. No other man touches you. If they do.." My fingers dug into his skin.

"I know seventy nine ways to kill a man, and I can make seventy of them look like an accident. Understand?"

He nodded, his chest rising and falling more rapidly than usual.

"I mean it, prince."

"I understand." Definitely breathless.

"Good." I swiped my thumb over his bottom lip.