[BL] Bound to My Enemy: The Billionaire Who Took My Girl Chapter 182: Satisfaction

CASSIAN

I settled back into my seat with the practiced grace of a man who hadn’t just been undone by another man smaller him.

My beer was still cold, the condensation pooling on the table like a clock ticking down the seconds. My expression was neutral as a winter sky.

To anyone looking, I had simply stepped away to use the facilities and returned to my beer. I was professionally unbothered, a masterclass in executive composure.

Inside, I was a goddamn ss.

Noah was everywhere.

He was a phantom sensation on my palms, a lingering heat under my skin. I could still taste him, that specific, salt-sweet flavor of his skin. My skin still humd where Noah had bitten , a sharp, perfect mark that felt like a brand beneath my collar.

I could still feel the weight of him in my hand, hot, leaking and pulsing and the way his entire body had shuddered against mine when he finally broke.

The sounds he’d made, those ragged, desperate whimpers muffled into the wool of my shoulder, were echoing in my head like a siren song.

I reached for my beer, my fingers steady despite the internal chaos, and took a asured sip.

"Mr. Wolfe?"

The voice was an intrusion. I didn’t turn my head, but I felt Eloise Park leaning in. She had gathered what remained of her courage for another attempt. "Have you ever been to a karaoke bar before?"

It was a safe question. Carefully chosen. "No," I said, not looking at her.

"Oh! Well, it’s actually really fun once you—"

I didn’t offer a rebuttal. I didn’t even offer a nod.

I simply picked up my phone, checked the ti, and let the silence stretch.

It was a blank, heavy silence, the kind that communicated with surgical precision: I am aware you are speaking, and I have chosen not to engage. Please stop.

She got the ssage. I felt her pull back, the sound of her glass hitting the table quiet and dejected.

Her dignity was wounded, but my patience was a finite resource tonight. Thank god, I thought, checking the ti again.

Then, Noah walked back in.

He was trying so hard to look normal that it was painful. He was walking with a careful, stiff gait, as if he had to remind his muscles how to support his weight.

There was a high, feverish flush on his cheekbones that no amount of cool alley air could wash away.

He sat down with a deliberate focus on Mason, pointedly avoiding even a glance in my direction.

The satisfaction that surged through was deep and primal.

I watched him perform the role of the "Executive Liaison," knowing exactly what he looked like under that mask of composure. I knew how he’d looked minutes ago, coming apart in a dark alley.

I knew the weight of him. I knew the way he bucked into a hand.

Seeing him try to be a "composed adult" while my taste was likely still on his lips was almost enough to make laugh.

I caught his eyes, just for a second. Green, wide, and currently vibrating with a mix of mortification and sothing darker and hungrier.

Even that brief contact was enough to remind that I was in significant trouble.

"I think I’m going to head out," Noah announced suddenly.

He lasted exactly five minutes. Impressive. He was a better perforr than I’d given him credit for.

"What?! Already?!" Mason’s voice was high enough to rattle the glassware. "The night is young! We haven’t even done group karaoke yet! Noah, you HAVE to stay—"

"I’m feeling a little under the weather," Noah lied, his smile tight. "The jet lag is catching up."

"Okay fine, I’ll walk you out—" Mason started to stand.

"No no no!" Noah’s panic was imdiate. "You should stay! You’re having fun! I’ll be fine, it’s just down the road. I’ll take a cab. Stay, seriously."

I watched him scramble, thoroughly entertained by the performance. He was almost perfect, but he was reaching. It was ti to intervene.

"He does look flushed," I said, looking up from my phone. I tilted my head at Noah, my tone completely neutral. "Could be a fever."

Noah went a different, darker shade of red. "I’m fine—"

"You were warm earlier," I said. I let the pause do the heavy lifting. "Quite warm. You should probably go ho and rest."

I put just enough weight on the word rest that only Noah would feel the bite of it. He looked like he wanted to die on the spot.

"Yes," he said through his teeth. "I should. Rest. At ho. Alone."

"Of course," I replied, the picture of innocence as I sipped my beer.

I didn’t miss the look on Mason’s face. He seed smarter than he looked. Sothing was clicking in his expression, a realization that I filed away for future managent.

"Okay fine," Mason said, sounding suspicious. "Text when you’re ho."

I watched Noah walk out, his bag over his shoulder, his back straight as a rod. He didn’t look back, which I found extrely amusing.

I watched the way the custom suit I’d ordered for him hugged his fra. Mine, I thought.

Back at the table, my phone buzzed with eting feedback. I began processing the data, but my mind was drifting back to how the day had actually unfolded.

Earlier in the day, I had been subrged in back-to-back etings. Noah’s text had arrived in the middle of a briefing with the legal team.

Managing. Your to-do list is trying to kill .

I had read it, and for a brief mont, the corner of my mouth had pulled into a real smirk. The associate sitting next to had caught it and imdiately paled, clearly assuming my amusent was a prelude to his termination. It wasn’t.

The day had consud itself. One eting bled into another, and my phone remained untouched in my pocket. It wasn’t until 6:30 PM that I finally surfaced. I went straight to the executive floor, expecting to find Noah at his desk, but it was dark. Empty. His computer was off, his space perfectly neat.

I felt a slight sothing. Not concern, I don’t do concern, but sothing adjacent.

Sothing unwelco. I called his number; it went to voicemail. I texted: Where are you? Delivered, but not read.

I was walking out of the the elevator, heading to the lobby when I heard two coworkers passing in a hallway.

"You’re still here? Thought you’d gone with Mason and the others," the first one said.

"Nah, I’ve got overti. What about you?"

"Sa. I’m jealous, though. Mason looked so excited. He wouldn’t stop yapping about that new karaoke place that just opened around the office."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I heard him talking to that guy that got promoted, I think Noah is his na... "