Page 45 of Crown of Thorns (The Initiation #3)

LOUIS

B est. Time. Of. My. Life.

I wake up in the middle of the night, breath caught somewhere between dream and disquiet. Monterrey is wrapped in silence. It’s too still, too empty. I don’t know what stirred me, but something did. A shift in the air. A feeling.

My body remembers before my mind catches up.

I was so tired I passed out in the helicopter last night.

I have a vague recollection of Noah helping me up the stairs, his arm strong around my waist, his voice soft in my ear.

I barely remember reaching the bed. But I remember the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t watching.

Like I was something breakable. Like I mattered.

Now the sheets are twisted around my naked skin.

I reach for my phone, which is overflowing with messages.

The castle is abandoned. Most students have already left for the early summer break while waiting for their final results.

It’s my birthday, which is probably the only reason I’ve been left alone this long, but Deverauxs don’t do well with silence.

If I’m unreachable, someone starts pacing.

If I don’t check in, someone starts pacing.

And if I disappear entirely? Dad starts calling in favors, even though the staff left yesterday with my brothers and cousin.

Arthur's been texting me throughout the night. And nosy Gael. He knew where I took Noah. He'd better not have blabbed. I needed the space. Needed to take Noah somewhere meaningful. It's what I told Dad as well, together with my request to look into a few Brotherhood files, stuff on Noah’s grandfather, loose ends that don’t add up. He said he’d look into it, but I could feel his suspicion. I haven’t replied since.

I hover over the keyboard, thumb poised to type something— anything —but I don’t. I can’t. Not yet. The messages blink like a warning light, but I’m not ready to leave this quiet. This intimacy. Not when he’s sleeping beside me like he trusts me with everything he is.

Let them wait. Just a little longer.

And I’ve got no clue what time it is. I want this moment to melt into eternity, tangled in linen and sweat, with his scent clinging to my skin like a brand. Most students have already left for the early summer break while waiting for their final results.

I brush my fingers through Noah’s strawberry-blond curls. They’ve grown since he last cut them for Christmas, just like I ordered him to. They’ve got a unique, rich glow that makes them almost copper. A perfect match to his skin, flushed from the warmth as he lingers in his dreams.

It’s weird to call this place home, but I guess it kind of is.

Filled with already-built memories. Stuff I bought him.

The coffee machine he didn’t want. The mini fridge, always stocked with fruit and champagne, with the cheeses he enjoys so much, with yoghurts.

The paintings Melody made for him are reminders of a past that was taken from him and a future that hasn’t yet knocked on his door.

His presence lingers in the air.

“Noah?” My lips trace every single bit of skin they can find.

With every brush, they stir the fire that’s building in the pit of my stomach.

Last night, I fell asleep in the helicopter, and I can barely remember how we got into our dorm, but now I’m ravenous, desperate in my hunger for him.

“Baby.” Lick . “Wake.” Kiss . “Up.” Nip .

He mumbles something, then his eyes flutter, gaze turbulent and hungry. For me. “Louis.”

“Fuck, I love my name on your tongue.” My kiss is agony, frustration, and savage.

It’s the only fusion my twisted mind can conjure, and yet he’s welcoming it, groaning into it.

Into me. The sheets tangle around our twisting forms as Noah grabs me by the ass and I wrap my legs around his thick thighs, not wanting to break the kiss.

Once perfectly seated, Noah’s hand slides up the curve of my throat and closes around my chin, angling me the way he wants, licking and sucking my face, pressing our chests together.

He is naked, shimmering with a fine layer of sweat, and I need to feel against my own burning flesh.

I never want to leave him. Not after nights like this, where the only thing between us is sweat and the echo of his laughter in my mouth, where his fingers still linger on my hips like a vow.

“Thank you for Paris. For taking me there,” he murmurs against my lips. He squeezes my laced ass cheeks, fingers firm and possessive. The soft garment bunches between us. Then he starts rubbing our cocks together, slow and filthy, making me gasp.

“Uhmp…fuck…”

“You like that, little devil?”

“More. I need more.”

He works my lace down with practiced ease, rolling it down my thighs and keeping it around my knees, trapping me with it.

I don’t mind. With my arms already wrapped around his neck, I press him close while sucking his face.

He’s mine. His complexity spoke to my curiosity from the beginning.

It’s why his touch thrilled me to the core and still does.

It resonates in my heart. His unspoken need to take care of me.

His unspoken need to be taken care of by me.

I’m sitting on his lap now, fully undressed except for the lace briefs around my knees, not wanting this to end. Needing this not to end. “I want to spend all my time with you. Be mine. Let’s make this official.”

His erection nudges against my ass and I rub myself all over him, my own cock coating precum as it glides over his tight abs.

Noah kisses me slowly before pulling away to unclasp the bottle of lube. “You are so perfect.” His wet fingers slide over the curve of my ass and he circles a lubed finger over my crease. A strangled noise leaves me.

“Mmmff…” I moan in his mouth, biting on his tongue because I want to hurt him. Want to sink my teeth into his skin and cause him pain, make him pay for his unspoken words. I won’t let him reject me. “Say yes. Say you’ll be mine.”

Noah rips his lips from mine, and I lurch forward, my mouth chasing his.

He drops his forehead against mine, his coarse breathing fusing with my own.

Then he inhales me deeply, as if he wants to chisel my scent into his memory.

“I want to, but I can’t lose my future.” His gruff words are low and heavy, and they make the ache in my chest stronger.

Because I love it when he calls me sweetheart, but he’s afraid love will ruin his future like it ruined his past. Like that night, he told me he couldn’t breathe during his first kiss with a boy, not from excitement, but from fear.

That kind of fear doesn’t just vanish; it lingers, echoes. And still, here he is, trying. For me.

I think I’ll burst. My breath is stuttering, and he must feel how much I’m shaking against him, but I don’t give a fuck as I glue my trembling lips to his and kiss him again, slower this time but deeper, digging my fingers into the back of his head, reveling in how loudly his heart beats against my chest.

“Tell me what it is we’re fighting against, baby. Let me slay those demons for you.”

“Demons…” His soft smile is breathy, and he pulls back so he can look at me. “Have you ever wondered if your recollections haven’t lied to you?”

I frown, a sharp flicker of unease tightening my gut. “You mean like you’re not sure if your memory is real?” My heart stutters. I don’t know what scares me more—his question, or how much I want to answer it for him.

“Hmm.” He slams my hands above my head on the pillow, intertwining his fingers with mine.

“I’ve often relived that day.” He nibbles on my jaw.

“Often wondered why I wasn’t enough for him, just for who I was.

” He kisses the shell of my right ear. “I’m so tired of fighting, Louis.

” He bites my left ear. “You won.” He slides down my chest, then kneels between my legs.

“You conquered my walls. Tore them down. And now all I can see is you. You’re everywhere.

In my dreams. In my thoughts. In my heart.

You are a treasure. The rarest thing I've ever found. The light in my eyes.” And then he takes my cock in his mouth.

My toes curl and I’m panting, face flushed, head spinning. I’m going to explode.

“Fuckfuckfuck…” I blurt in one breath as I sink my unsteady fingers into his hair.

He deep-throats me, taking my cock so far inside, my eyes roll to the back of my head.

I’m so starved, so wound up, I’m riding his mouth, falling into the scorching pleasure he’s giving me.

“Jesus Christ, Noah… your mouth feels so fucking good, I’m gonna, I’m gonna…

” My hips jerk, and Noah takes my cum deep in his throat as I empty my load.

I keep watching him, mesmerized, just the view of him between my legs giving me butterflies.

But as I watch him gathering my cum off his chin and licking it off his fingers, I can’t help but feel them flutter all around, expanding my chest.

Everything about him is intense. The darkening of his eyes just before a kiss, the tremble in his breath when he lets himself want. It’s all him. His touch carries emotion, not just hunger, and it scorches me with meaning.

“Mmm. So precious.” His words pierce my chest and settle into my heart, filling me drip by drip. “And now I want my fuck hole, sweetheart. My tight, hot ass. Are you going to give it to me?”

He squirts lube all over his cock and my ass, but before he can work himself, I reach over and wrap my fingers around his girth.

It’s hard and flushed, the veins popping.

Slicked with the lube, it slides in my hand, hard and soft at the same time, and I stroke him fast, reveling in the way it barely fits in my palm.

His finger circles my hole, teasing. Then he slides a finger in and my entire body jerks.

“Yes, baby, more, I need more.”