Best Friends Shouldn't Crave Your Moan

For over a decade, Zach Rivera has been my best friend, the man who always had my back and the only person I trusted completely. Until the night he pinned me against the wall of his gym after hours and kissed me like he was starving. I Noah Sinclair at 29, was a successful interior designer who creates beautiful spaces for other people but can barely handle the chaos in my own head, can’t stop replaying how Zach’s rough hands felt on my body. Zach is dangerous, not just because he destroys men in the underground fighting cage, but because of the way he looks at me now, like he wants to own every moan that comes out of my mouth, every gasp and every inch of me. He’s always been possessive, but now it’s getting out of hand. He wants to bend me over every surface, mark me, ruin me for anyone else. And the worst part? I’m starting to crave the pain and pleasure only he can give. Our friendship is on the line, same as our carer, rumors are spreading through our tight-knit circle. His jealous ex is stirring up trouble, and every stolen touch makes it harder to pretend we’re just friends. Best friends shouldn’t crave each other like this. Best friends shouldn’t fuck like this. But Zach doesn’t care about “shouldn’t.” And neither do I anymore... at this point... f*ck it