Mag-log inI swirled the amber liquid in my glass, the ice clinking softly against the crystal as I watched Stecy across the low table. The apartment was quiet except for the distant hum of the city below and the low thrum of jazz from the speakers. Soft light from the floor lamp painted her in gold and shadow, catching the curve of her bare shoulder where the silk robe had slipped.I had known her for two years. We met at a gallery opening, her laughing at something a mutual friend said, me unable to look away from the way her eyes lit up. She had been dating someone else then. I had been freshly out of a long, quiet relationship that ended more from inertia than drama. We became friends first. Late-night talks after exhibitions, shared taxis, the occasional drink that stretched until the bars closed. I learned the sound of her real laugh, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking hard, the soft southern lilt that crept into her voice when she was tired or happy. I ha
My two brothers and I pushed her onto the bed.“Easy, brothers. So eager to prove yourselves,” Stecy said, rubbing slow circles over her clit right in front of us. Her legs were already spread, the soft pink of her cunt glistening under the low light.We had raised her for eighteen years. Tonight she would choose which of us became her husband. Her only rule had been simple:“May the best dick win.”I laughed under my breath. I already knew the answer.Michael hesitated at the edge of the mattress. “I don’t go easy, Stecy. You sure you want this?”“Yes,” she answered without a second of doubt.“Are you…”“She wants it,” I said, cutting Damien off before he could start another cautious speech. “My cock’s already hard. She’s not backing out.”“Don’t worry.” I lay down and parted her legs. “I’ve been using the device Gerald gave me,” she said.My brothers glared at me.“What? She’s not a teenager anymore,” I answered. “I'll going in,”I climbed onto the bed, shoved her hand away, and rep
“How do you say the words again,” I moaned into her ears.“Heaven baby,” she whispered.A grin played on my lips. “So why don’t you want your heaven baby to have a taste of what’s in front of him,” I said, moving my hands through her thighs, but she stopped me.I shut my eyes, a sound escaping my lips.“I told you, James. Sex after marriage.”Her voice was soft, but the way her fingers curled around my wrists told me she felt the heat, the pull and the way the air between us had thickened until every breath felt deliberate. I stayed still, eyes closed for a second longer, letting the ache settle low in my gut. When I opened them again she was watching me, lower lip caught between her teeth, cheeks flushed in that way that always undid me.“I heard you,” I said, voice rough. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”I didn’t pull away. I just let my hands rest where she’d stopped them, palms warm against the smooth skin of her outer thighs, thumbs tracing idle circles just below the hem of he
“Oh, my world… pull it up…” Nina breathed, voice low and already threaded with heat. My best friend. The one who’d dragged me into her bed with that mischievous half-smile that always meant trouble. “Nina… I’m not sure I’m the right candidate for this job,” I said, hands hovering just above the curve of her hips. The mattress dipped under our weight. Her thighs were warm, soft, already locking tighter around my waist like she had no intention of letting me leave. “Of course you are, Grek.” She reached up, fingers sliding into my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my face down to hers. “Just follow my lead. I need to meet up with my MABS.” A wicked little glint lit her eyes. She never explained the acronym when she was like this: flushed, restless, body already rolling against mine in slow, deliberate circles. I nodded. What else was I going to do? She had me exactly where she wanted me. Nina shifted, skirt riding higher as she tightened her legs. The fabric whispered against my
The lecture hall was half-empty that Thursday afternoon, the kind of late-spring day where the air conditioning fought a losing battle against the humidity outside. I sat in my usual spot three rows back. My laptop was open but the screen was dark. I tapped my pen against my notebook like it had somewhere better to be. Comparative literature. Dr. Harlan droning on about unreliable narrators. Irony wasn’t lost on me.Across the aisle and one seat forward sat Elise. Dark hair pulled into a loose knot that kept slipping, a few strands sticking to the side of her neck. She wore an oversized white button-down that looked like it might’ve belonged to a boyfriend once, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and black shorts that ended mid-thigh. Every time she shifted, the fabric rode a little higher. I’d been noticing for weeks.She caught me looking. She raised one eyebrow, and the corner of her mouth curved like she already knew the ending of whatever story we were writing.Soon class ended.
I dragged her into the penthouse by the throat, my fingers digging into the soft flesh just under her jaw. Sofia stumbled in her cheap stilettos, the black dress already half-shredded from the ride up in the elevator. I’d paid for the night, five grand in cash, to have proper sex, but the second she walked into the back room of my club looking like she was already halfway to being used up, I decided she was going to earn every fucking cent the hard way.“On your knees.”She dropped without hesitation. “Easy,” she whispered, voice already rough from whatever she’d been doing downstairs. Whores who argue get their teeth loosened. I unbuckled my belt, the leather sliding free with a soft hiss, and shoved my trousers down just enough. My cock was already thick, heavy, the head glistening with a thick bead of precum. I grabbed a fistful of her dark hair and yanked her face forward.“Open.”She parted her lips. “let me…”I didn’t give her time to talk shit. I shoved in hard, the fat head







