Last Line of Defence (Beckford U #3)

Chapter 1

Noah

My heart pounds despite the black mask secured over the top half of my face. My teammates wouldn’t give me shit if they knew I’m visiting a sex club, but they would if they knew why I’m here. That’s why I only attend the masked nights they have once a month. It’s safer this way.

Frustration thrums through my body as I push through the red velvet curtains to the main lounge of Euphoria. Tonight was my first official game as captain of the Beckford U soccer team, and it was a disaster.

My fingers twitch at my side. I was itching for a fight with my fucking goalkeeper in the change rooms after the game.

I had to get out of there, or my reign as captain would be over before it started.

Fight or fuck.

The only way I’ll get any sleep tonight is to fuck the tension out of my system.

I’ve let it curl in my gut for too long, always running scared every time an opportunity arises to ease the knot.

But tonight’s the night. I’m done running.

Thankfully, the first game of the season coincides with Euphoria’s masked night.

There’s no way I can get what I need otherwise—no one can know about my sinful cravings.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, I adjust my mask to make sure my identity is hidden before stalking towards a hallway that branches off the main lounge. My neck prickles, and I cast a quick glance over my shoulder before slipping through the navy curtain.

I push down the familiar surge of anxiety that swirls in my stomach at the thought of what I’m about to do. My father won’t be happy if he has to clean up another one of my scandals, but he’s four thousand kilometres away. He’ll never find out about this.

My pulse races as I take measured steps to the bar and flag down a bartender to order a glass of water.

I’d usually prefer a whiskey, but I need a clear head for what I’m about to do.

My stomach swoops at the reminder of what happened the last time I drank alcohol before giving in to my impure urges.

It was just after Nathan left Perth. The inebriation mixed with my insecurities and past trauma was not a good combination.

The sickening crack of a broken nose still haunts my nightmares.

I lean against the bar and sip my water, my gaze travelling over the dancefloor, adjusting to the strobe lights dancing around the room.

My cock thickens in my pants as I watch men dancing with men, grinding against one another in various states of undress without fear of retribution or judgement.

Though I’ve never found the courage to engage with anyone here, this one room in Euphoria keeps drawing me back once a month.

All the men in here are gay, bi, or fluid. There’s no anxiety over whether they’re interested or not. While the club is accepting of all its members in all areas of the club, this room is for those who need reassurance that everyone’s on the same page.

I torture myself with the anticipation until I can no longer take it, then place my empty glass on the bar and step onto the dance floor. Despite shaking my head at the cliché, my body moves to the rhythm of Born This Way by Lady Gaga. The song is a vibe.

A few guys catch my eye, but as much as I need this, I won’t be the one to approach. I can’t. Instead, I let my hands roam my chest as I shake my hips. Being an elite sportsman, I know I’ve got a good body, and each defined muscle ripples beneath my skin-tight white T-shirt.

As one song leads into another, that tingling sensation of being watched washes over me.

I glance around and lock eyes with a guy standing at a high-top table a few feet away.

He’s blond—my kryptonite—with a simple gold mask covering half of his face.

He reminds me of Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo and Juliet.

Smirking, I give him a show, moving my body to the music. His gaze doesn’t falter, running over my body in a teasing caress.

I’m tall at six foot two, but he’s taller—at least six four, and I can’t help but imagine what he would feel like pressed up against me.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long before I find out.

He doesn’t touch me at first, teasing me with his proximity as C’mon, C’mon by One Direction plays.

When his hands finally land on my hips, my dick swells in my pants and I run my tongue over my lips.

As my confidence grows, I slide my hands up his sculpted chest to wrap around his neck.

He shoots me a knowing smile that makes my heart skip a beat before dipping his head to capture my bottom lip between his teeth.

Fuck.

My control snaps. I tug on the hair at his nape and flick my tongue into his mouth, groaning at the first taste. He pulls me into his body as he kisses me back, his impressive bulge pressing against my stomach. Fuck, even with a semi, I can tell this guy is hung.

His masculine scent washes over me, and I breathe him in as his tongue dances with mine in perfect synchronicity. Our lips mould together like a perfect puzzle, the tension seeping from my body as I melt into him.

This is exactly what I needed.

He kisses his way along my jaw to murmur in my ear, “You’re fucking gorgeous, baby.”

I grind against him, letting him know what his words are doing to me. His resulting chuckle sends a ripple of pleasure straight to my groin. I grip his head, turning so I can growl in his ear, “Need to feel those pouty lips around my cock, pretty boy.”

The music is too loud to hear his resulting groan, but it rumbles through his chest, fluttering beneath my fingertips. He grasps my hand and pulls me into a dark corner, pushing me against the wall and covering my body with his as he claims my lips in a bruising kiss.

I grin against his mouth. The way he’s taking control is fucking hot.

His hands slide down my chest, and I tilt my head back as he runs his tongue over my throat.

He pops the button on my skinny black jeans, and my hands curl into his hair as he lowers to his knees, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my lower stomach.

I swallow hard when he lifts his gaze, hooking his fingers into my waistband as if seeking permission. My heart kicks as I give a brief nod.

I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes, fighting off the clawing panic rising inside me. This is what I want. I need to feel his lips around me. I won’t let my past insecurities rear their ugly heads now.

My body thrums in anticipation as he slowly drags my jeans down far enough to release my adorned cock, the slide of fabric against my heated skin only exciting me more.

Pre-cum weeps from the pierced tip, and I almost jump out of my skin when his large hand wraps around me, giving a confident tug.

His thumb brushes over my Prince Albert, and I pulse in his grip.

Fuck, I’m not going to last long.

His tongue wraps around my head, and it takes everything in me not to punch my hips forward and choke him with my dick. His hum vibrates through me, and my fingers dig into his scalp as he works me over, taking me deeper with every bob of his head.

I keep my eyes closed, unable to watch this man on his knees blowing my fucking mind. When I hit the back of his throat, I mutter a curse, my balls drawing up. He hollows his cheeks and sucks, bright stars flashing behind my closed lids while my heart races. This man can suck cock like no other.

Pleasure swirls low in my stomach and quickly spreads. As if sensing how close I am, he pulls off with a pop, edging me with a playful squeeze of my balls. He works me with his hand, running his tongue over my piercing.

Forcing my eyes open, I risk a look down as he takes me deep once again.

I release a hand from his hair and run my fingers over his stretched lips, biting down on my own when he looks up at me, heat and hunger in his steel-blue eyes.

Whatever he sees in my expression, he keeps gaze locked on mine as he gags on my length.

The sight is fucking exquisite, and I give an experimental jerk of my hips, hitting the back of his throat again.

His resulting hum gives me the confidence to let go and fuck his mouth.

He braces his hands on my thighs, dangerously close to the translucent scars marring my skin that are impossible to see in this lighting, never once breaking eye-contact. I thrust forward again and again until I spill, groaning as he works his throat around me to swallow every last drop.

The sound of his voice cuts through the pleasure. You’re not one of those boys, are you?

I freeze.

My chest tightens as I watch the masked man pull off my spent cock, grinning as he runs a thick finger under his lips to clean up my mess. A familiar ringing in my ears has me shaking my head to clear it.

Romeo’s smile drops.

Oxygen whooshes from my lungs, and I rush to tuck my dick back into my pants as I push away from the wall, leaving him on his knees.

The room closes in on me, and sweat trickles down my back as I push through gyrating bodies.

Disoriented, I stop in the middle of the dance floor, clutching my chest as I search for the exit.

Panic claws its way through me, but then I spot the blue curtains and race towards them, not stopping until I’m outside Euphoria, where the crisp autumn air does nothing to soothe my overheated body.

I fumble with my housemate’s keys, finally hearing the beep of the lock disengaging, and I escape to the car, panting.

When the anxiety passes, I let out an angry shout, banging my fist against the steering wheel.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I wanted this.

Why the fuck can’t I get his voice out of my head, telling me I’m an abomination?

Tears sting my eyes, but I squeeze them shut. I’m not giving the fucker the satisfaction. Even if he won’t see them, I’d know, and I’m not giving him that power over me.

Isn’t that exactly what you did by running out on a hot guy on his knees for you?

Fuck!

I bang my hands on the steering wheel again and again, until the fight goes out of me.