Se connecterChapter 1: Caught in the Act
The bass from Jordan’s speakers thumped through the walls as I slipped out of his room, heart hammering like a damn traitor. The party downstairs was still raging—cheap beer, shitty EDM, and too many people crammed into his parents’ living room. But I wasn’t going back down there. Not after seeing Ethan walk in from the gym twenty minutes ago, tank top clinging to his sweat-slicked chest, those thick arms flexing as he grabbed a water from the fridge. Ethan. Jordan’s older brother. The one guy I wasn’t supposed to want. I moved quiet down the hallway toward the guest bathroom, but my cock was already half-hard just from that glimpse. Fuck it. I’d been crushing on him since high school, when he’d come home from college all filled out and cocky. Straight-passing as hell, always with some girl on his arm, but that didn’t stop the fantasies. I locked the door behind me, yanked my phone out, and pulled up the hidden folder. There he was—shirtless pics I’d screenshotted from Jordan’s I*******m stories over the months. Ethan at the beach, water dripping down his abs. Ethan spotting weights at the gym, veins popping on his biceps. My hand was already shoving down my shorts, wrapping around my throbbing dick as I leaned against the sink. “Shit…” I stroked slow at first, thumb circling the leaking head, eyes glued to his body on the screen. I imagined those big hands pinning me down instead. That deep voice growling my name while he shoved his thick cock inside me. My strokes got faster, slick sounds filling the small bathroom. Pre-cum dripped over my fingers. I was close already, biting my lip to stay quiet. The door handle rattled. I froze, phone still in one hand, cock pulsing in the other. “Occupied,” I choked out, but the lock clicked anyway. The door swung open. Ethan stood there, one eyebrow raised, still in that damn tank top and gym shorts that did nothing to hide the heavy bulge swinging between his legs. His eyes dropped straight to my exposed dick, then to the phone screen where his own photo glowed bright. “Well, well,” he said, voice low and rough. A smirk tugged at his lips as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. The lock clicked again. “Alex. Jerking off to me like a little perv while my brother’s downstairs?” Heat flooded my face, but my cock didn’t get the memo—it twitched harder in my grip. I tried to pull my shorts up, but Ethan was faster. His big hand clamped around my wrist, pinning it to the sink. “Don’t stop on my account.” His breath was hot against my ear as he crowded me against the counter. He was taller, broader, all muscle and raw masculinity. Up close, he smelled like sweat and that woodsy cologne that always made my knees weak. “How long you been sniffing around my pics, huh?” “I—I didn’t—” The lie died when he reached down and wrapped his fingers around my cock, giving it one slow, firm stroke. I moaned, hips bucking into his fist like a slut. “Look at you,” Ethan murmured, eyes dark with something hungry. “Leaking all over my hand. Bet you’ve been thinking about this for years.” He pumped me harder, thumb pressing right under the head where I was most sensitive. “Jordan’s little best friend… always staring at me when you think no one’s looking.” His free hand grabbed my phone, scrolling through the folder with a low chuckle. “Damn. You got the good ones. That beach trip? I was hard as fuck under those trunks that day.” I whimpered when he twisted his wrist just right, smearing my pre-cum down the shaft. My legs shook. This was really happening—Ethan touching me, his breath on my neck, his massive body trapping mine. “Turn around,” he ordered, spinning me to face the mirror without waiting. My shorts dropped to my ankles. In the reflection, I looked wrecked already—cheeks flushed, lips parted, cock jutting out red and desperate. Ethan stood behind me, one hand still working my dick while the other yanked his own shorts down. Holy fuck. His cock sprang free—thick, veiny, at least eight inches with a fat, leaking head. Way bigger than anything I’d taken before. It slapped against my ass cheek, hot and heavy. “You want this?” he growled, grinding against me. The length slid between my cheeks, teasing my hole. “Been dreaming about my cock splitting you open?” “Yes,” I gasped, pushing back against him. Shame and lust twisted together in my gut. Jordan was right downstairs. This was so fucking wrong. But I couldn’t stop. Ethan spat into his palm and slicked himself up, then pressed the blunt head right against my entrance. No condom. No prep beyond that. He pushed in slow but relentless, stretching me wide. The burn was intense, perfect. I gripped the sink, moaning loud as he sank deeper, inch by thick inch, until his heavy balls rested against mine. “Fuuuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, bottoming out. His hand wrapped around my throat, tilting my head back so I had to watch us in the mirror. “Look at that. Taking your best friend’s brother raw like a good boy.” He started thrusting—deep, powerful strokes that made my toes curl. Every drag of his cock against my prostate had me leaking all over the sink. The slap of skin on skin filled the bathroom, loud enough that anyone passing could hear, but I didn’t care anymore. Ethan’s grip on my hip was bruising as he fucked me harder, bending me further over the counter. “Stroke yourself,” he commanded. I obeyed, jerking my cock in time with his thrusts. Pleasure coiled tight in my belly. “ Ethan—I’m gonna—” “Not yet.” He slowed, grinding deep instead, rotating his hips so his cock rubbed every sensitive spot inside me. “You come when I say. Been waiting years to wreck this ass.” He reached around and pinched my nipple through my shirt, then bit down on my shoulder to muffle his own groan. The pain mixed with the pleasure, pushing me right to the edge again. His balls slapped against me with every thrust, heavy and full. Finally, he sped up, pounding me mercilessly. “Now. Come on my cock.” I exploded, shooting thick ropes across the sink, my hole clenching tight around him. Ethan cursed, burying himself to the hilt as he came too—hot, pulsing spurts flooding deep inside me. He kept thrusting through it, breeding me full until cum leaked down my thighs. We stayed locked like that for a moment, panting. His cock softened but stayed inside, plugging his load in me. Then he pulled out slowly, watching with dark satisfaction as his cum dripped from my wrecked hole. He tucked himself away and slapped my ass hard enough to sting. “Clean up,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just raw-fucked me senseless. “And delete those pics… or don’t. I’ll know if you touch yourself to me again.” He unlocked the door and slipped out, leaving me trembling against the sink, cum running down my legs and my mind spinning. Jordan was still downstairs, laughing with his friends. Oblivious. But Ethan knew now. And from the look he gave me before disappearing down the hall, this wasn’t over.Chapter 2I woke up with Theo’s ass pressed against my cock and his hair in my mouth.Morning light cut across the bed in a hard white line. My sheets were wrecked. There was a dried smear on his thigh that I put there at 4 a.m. when I took him the third time, slower, almost lazy, just to feel him twitch and go quiet. He had fallen asleep with my arm locked around his waist like I was afraid he would vanish.He hadn’t vanished.He was still here. Warm. Soft. Mine in a way that was going to blow up my entire life.My phone buzzed on the nightstand.I knew the ringtone before I looked.Marcus.Theo stirred when I reached over him. His hole was still sloppy from last night. When he shifted, I felt it against me and my cock thickened like it had no sense of timing.I answered on the third buzz.“You’re up early,” Marcus said. Cheerful. Airport-loud. “Flight got moved. I’m landing at 2:10 instead of Sunday. You still good to grab me or should I just Uber?”Theo’s eyes opened.He heard ever
I Ruined My Best Friend’s Little BrotherChapter 1The knock came at 1:47 a.m.I knew it was him before I opened the door. Only one person in this city still treated my apartment like it had a spare key that didn’t exist.Theo stood there soaked to the bone, black T-shirt plastered to his chest, dark hair dripping into his eyes. Rain water ran off his jaw and onto the hallway carpet. He looked twenty-two and furious and beautiful in the exact way he wasn’t supposed to look at me.“Marcus isn’t answering,” he said. No hello. “Can I come in or what?”I stepped aside.He walked past me smelling like rain and cheap vodka and something sweeter underneath that I had no business noticing. I shut the door. The lock clicked louder than it needed to.“He’s in Chicago until Sunday,” I said. “You know that.”“I know.” Theo dragged a hand through his wet hair and left it standing up in messy spikes. “I just… I didn’t want to go home. My roommate’s got some girl over and I—” He stopped. Looked at m
Don’t Touch MeChapter 3The weekend stretched the tension until it felt like a live wire under the floorboards.Noah doubled down on avoidance. He left before sunrise, came back after midnight, and moved through the apartment like any prolonged eye contact might detonate something. I let him have the distance. For two days I barely spoke. I cooked when he was gone. I worked late at the café down the street. I brought no one home.By Sunday night the silence had become its own kind of pressure.I was on the couch with a book I wasn’t reading when the front door finally opened. Noah stepped in looking wrecked—damp from the rain, backpack sliding off one shoulder, dark circles under his eyes. He froze when he saw me. For a second I thought he might turn around and leave again.Instead he shut the door and muttered, “You’re still up.”“Waiting.”“For what?”I closed the book and set it aside. “You.”He dropped the backpack by the wall and dragged a hand through his wet hair. Water drippe
Don’t Touch MeChapter 2Three days later he was still pretending I didn’t exist.Noah moved through the apartment like a ghost with excellent posture. Up early. Headphones in. Out the door before I finished my coffee. Back late. Straight to his room. Door closed. No conversation. No lingering. If I was in the kitchen, he waited until I left. If I was on the couch, he took the long way around.It only made me harder.I started staying in more. Not enough to look obvious. Just enough to be in the way. I’d cook when I knew he was due home. Leave the bathroom door cracked while I showered so the steam and the sound of water would reach him. Sit on the couch in nothing but low-slung sweatpants with a book I wasn’t reading, legs spread, watching him try not to look when he crossed the living room.He always looked.Quick. Guilty. Like he hated himself for it.Thursday night the tension finally cracked.I came home late from the gym, still in a damp black tank and joggers, gym bag over one
Don’t Touch MeChapter 1I knew he hated me the second he walked through the door.Noah Reid stood in the doorway of the apartment with a single duffel bag and an expression like someone had just told him he’d be sharing oxygen with a convicted felon. Twenty-two. Lean. Dark hair that always looked like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. Mouth set in a hard line. And those eyes—sharp, wary, already deciding I was the problem.“You’re Dominic,” he said. Not a question.“I am.” I leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching him the way I watched anything I already wanted. “You’re late.”“Traffic.”“Right.”The building manager had warned me the new subletter was “quiet and private.” What he hadn’t mentioned was that Noah Reid looked at me like I was something he needed to scrape off his shoe. The previous roommate had bailed three weeks into the lease, and the agency had stuck me with the first warm body that could make rent. That warm body was currently
Chapter 5I woke to the weight of an arm across my waist and the solid heat of a body pressed against my back.For a few disoriented seconds I forgot where I was. Then the scent of cedar and clean skin settled over me, and the night before came back in a rush—Adrian’s bed, the way he’d held me open and fucked me slow, the quiet invitation to stay. Morning light filtered through the tall windows, soft and gray. Rain still tapped against the glass.Adrian’s breathing was steady against the back of my neck. His hand rested low on my stomach, fingers splayed like he’d claimed the space in his sleep. I shifted carefully and felt him stir, the soft length of his cock against the curve of my ass thickening as he woke.“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.“Morning.”His hand slid lower, cupping me. I was already half-hard. A few lazy strokes and I was fully there, pushing back against him without thinking. He made a low sound of approval and reached for the lube on the nightstand.
Chapter 3: Cabin Fever The family cabin loomed ahead like a trap wrapped in pine trees and fresh snow. Mom and Dad had insisted on the weekend getaway to bond us all together, but they bailed at the last minute with some excuse about a work emergency back in the city. Convenient. Or maybe suspicio
Chapter 2: Bound by the Secret The flash from Damien’s phone burned behind my eyelids long after he lowered the device. My knees still ached against the basement carpet, my lips felt swollen and raw, and the taste of him lingered on my tongue like a brand I could not wash away. I stared up at him,
Chapter 1: Caught in the Dark I never thought I would see my stepbrother like this. The house was supposed to be empty. Mom and Dad had left for their anniversary weekend, and I had planned to spend the night buried in my books, finally getting some peace from Damien’s constant noise. Hockey prac
Chapter 4: Shadows and Surrender The crack outside the cabin window jolted me awake before dawn, my body still sore and marked from Damien’s relentless claiming the night before. I lay tangled in the heavy blankets, his arm draped possessively over my waist, his breath warm against my neck. For a







