The harsh fluorescent lights of the hotel room snapped me awake. My head throbbed, a dull, rhythmic pulse that mirrored the shame pounding in my chest. I blinked, trying to focus, and found myself staring at Julian. He was kneeling beside the bed, a bowl of water on the nightstand, a soft, damp towel in his hand. He was gently wiping my face, his touch surprisingly tender."Easy, baby," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "You gave yourself quite the night."I flinched at the endearment, the situation, the sheer absurdity of it all. The lingerie, the cuffs, the sheer, utter humiliation. "Get these things off me," I croaked, my throat raw. "Please."He tilted his head, his dark eyes assessing. "Of course, baby," he repeated, the word laced with a hint of amusement that sent a fresh wave of anger washing over me. He tossed the towel back into the bowl and leaned in, placing a light kiss on my forehead. It was a disturbingly intimate gesture, and I instinctively recoiled.He chuckled so
The Bentley purred to a stop outside our house, the ostentatious display of wealth a stark contrast to the peeling paint and overgrown lawn. Julian, ever observant, raised a sculpted eyebrow. "Charming," he murmured, the word dripping with sardonic amusement.I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "It's home." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue. Home was a cage, gilded for Clara and rusted for me.The weight of the Moreau family's expectations, the suffocating pressure to be something I wasn't, lifted slightly as I stepped out of the car. I clutched the heavy, framed abstract piece Julian had bought for me at the auction, the vibrant colors a jolt of defiance against the drab landscape of my life. He'd also gifted me a ridiculously expensive watch, a cashmere sweater, and a pair of handcrafted leather boots – items I’d only ever glanced at longingly through store windows before.As I walked up the cracked driveway, I could practically feel the weight of their stares from behind the lace-cu
The digital clock on my bedside table blinked 10:47 PM. Twelve hours. Twelve hours I’d spent staring at the captivating art piece Julian gifted me and the hideous wallpaper my parents had chosen – a floral monstrosity that screamed suburban mediocrity. Twelve hours of conjuring increasingly explicit fantasies about Julian, trying to drown out the echo of my mother's shrill voice calling me an ungrateful parasite.Then, my phone buzzed. Julian. My heart leaped, a traitorous thing.I swiped to answer, holding the phone to my ear as I sat up on the bed. "Hello?""Liam," Julian's voice, deep and resonant, filled the small space. It sent a shiver down my spine, a sensation I was quickly becoming addicted to. "I'm working late. The office is… unbearably dull. Thought you might want to keep me company."A thrill shot through me, quickly followed by a wave of frustration. "I can't," I said, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice. "Mom grounded me."There was a pause, a beat of silenc
The first sliver of sunlight, a traitorous spy, pierced through the gap in my curtains, landing squarely on my eyelids. I groaned, batting it away with a lazy swat of my hand. Grounded. Seriously? I was practically an adult, yet here I was, confined to my childhood bedroom like some delinquent teenager. All thanks to my disastrous attempt at playing the dutiful date at that damn art auction.My eyes fluttered open, and the memories flooded back, hot and insistent. Julian’s office, all sleek lines and muted colours, suddenly seemed like a hazy dream. But the feel of his lips on mine, the sharp intake of his breath as I nipped at his lower lip… that was no dream. That was a full-blown, Technicolor reality I was replaying in excruciating detail, and it was doing very, very inconvenient things to my body.My stomach clenched, a mixture of nerves and something akin to… excitement? I hadn't expected Julian to be so…forward. Or that I would enjoy it so much. The way he had looked at me, not
The city bled into the horizon, a jagged tapestry of steel and glass viewed from the penthouse office of Julian Davenport. Julian himself stood silhouetted against the panoramic view, his posture radiating the kind of controlled power that made lesser men squirm. Inside, the air crackled with unspoken energy."The Henderson deal is finalized," Julian stated, his voice a low, resonant hum that barely registered above the city's drone. He turned from the window, his gaze sharp and assessing. "Signed, sealed, delivered."Jasper, lounging in an excessively comfortable leather chair, raised a glass of amber liquid. "To you, Julian. Another kingdom conquered." He took a slow, deliberate sip, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Although, from the look on your face, I suspect there's a dragon still guarding some treasure."Julian moved to his desk, the heavy oak groaning softly under his touch. He ran a hand through his impeccably styled hair, a rare display of agitation. "Old Man Hemmings,"
The next morning, Jasper found himself standing before the imposing mahogany doors of Mr. Hemmings' office. He smoothed down his perfectly tailored suit, a subtle shade of grey that suggested understated power, and adjusted the perfectly knotted tie. He took a deep breath, channeling Julian's focused intensity, and stepped inside.The office was exactly as Julian had described: a shrine to Hemmings' golfing achievements. Trophies gleamed under the recessed lighting, each one a testament to a bygone victory on the green. Hemmings, a man whose age was etched into every wrinkle of his face, rose from behind a large oak desk, his eyes narrowed in what Jasper assumed was his default expression."Mr. Davenport," Hemmings greeted him, extending a hand. His grip was surprisingly firm, the kind that wanted to prove something. "To what do I owe the pleasure? I thought we'd covered everything in our last discussion."Jasper flashed a practiced smile, the kind that reached his eyes but didn't qui
The front door slammed shut with a satisfying thud. A week. An entire seven days I was confined to the Moreau residence. Grounded. At twenty years old. The irony wasn't lost on me, especially since I’d spent at least half those nights sneaking out to see Julian. But now, officially, freedom tasted sweeter than any stolen moment.My first act of liberation? A triple-scoop ice cream sundae from "Sweet Surrender," the only decent dessert place within a twenty-mile radius of our depressing suburban existence. I deserved a treat, a sugary reward for enduring the suffocating drama of my family. Clara, perpetually stressed about her impending nuptials, and my parents, oscillating between fawning over her and lamenting their financial woes, which, of course, were somehow always my fault.As I strolled down Main Street, the late afternoon sun warming my face, a familiar voice chirped, "Liam! Liam Moreau, is that really you?"I groaned inwardly. Please, not now. I turned to see Sarah Jenkins, a
"Vacation home?" I repeated, the words feeling hollow in the face of such extravagant reality. "This… this is your vacation home?" My ideal apartment barely qualifies as a permanent residence, let alone a place to escape to.Julian chuckled, a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. "One of them. I find the city stifling sometimes. I need space... and quiet." He glanced at me, his eyes intense. "And sometimes company."I swallowed, trying to regain my composure. "Right. Well, thanks for… inviting me."He took my hand again, his touch sending a surge of electricity through me. "Come. Let me show you around."The mansion was a masterpiece of modern architecture, all clean lines, glass walls, and open spaces. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating art pieces that probably cost more than my entire family’s net worth. We walked through the living room, which opened onto a massive terrace overlooking the ocean. The view was stunning – an endless expanse of turquoise water s
"Almost there," Drew said through gritted teeth.He squeezed Liam's balls again, but this time, he didn’t let go. Instead, he rubbed Liam's cock with his other hand, stroking him in time with his thrusts."Fuck," Liam cried out. "Oh god, oh god, oh god!""Look at me," Drew ordered. "I want to see your face when you cum."Liam turned his head, looking into Drew’s eyes. They were dark with lust, his pupils dilated."Yes," Drew hissed. "Cum for me."With a final thrust, Drew pushed Liam over the edge. Liam screamed, his body convulsing with the intensity of his orgasm. He shot his load all over his stomach and chest, his body shaking uncontrollably."Fuck," Drew cursed. He thrust a few more times before he found his own release, filling Liam up with his hot cum.They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies spent and covered in sweat.Drew rolled off Liam and lay beside him, his chest heaving."Holy fuck," he breathed. "That was… wow."Liam didn’t respond. He lay there, his mind reeling from
Drew stepped out in jeans and a fitted black shirt, sunglasses masking his eyes."You look like shit," Drew said, scooping Liam's bag and tossing it into the trunk.Without a word, Liam slid into the passenger seat.Unbeknownst to him, across the street, In a tinted car window, sat Jasper, fists clenched tightly against the steering wheel, jaw set in stone. He watched as the car drove away.Liam sat in silence the entire ride. When they arrived at Drew's apartment, he stepped out and looked up. The building was sleek and modern—far nicer than anything he'd expected."Come on," Drew said, leading him inside.They took the elevator up to the eighth floor. Once inside the apartment, Liam finally got a proper look, the last time he hadn't because he had been drunk.The interior was minimalist but classy. Grey walls, black leather furniture, glass shelves."Here," Drew said, pointing to a guest bedroom. "You can keep your stuff here. This is your room."Liam stepped inside slowly."Thanks,
"Ugh... my head," Liam groaned, clutching his temples as he sat up, blinking against the blinding light peeking through the curtains.He looked around, trying to recall where he was. Sheets tangled around his legs, a foreign room... a warm body beside him."Shit," he muttered.Then he remembered. "Drew. Yeah... Drew. The guy from the bar."He looked down at himself, bare, the events from the night before flashing before his eyes. The shame settled in.Liam started gathering his clothes hastily, mumbling, "What the fuck did I do?"Drew stirred beside him, eyes fluttering open. "Hey... good morning. How you feeling?""Like shit," Liam snapped. "And I'd prefer if we forget anything like this ever happened. I don't know you. So let’s leave it at that."He didn’t wait for a reply. He was out the door before Drew could say another word.Outside his apartment, Liam found Jasper leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed."Where have you been?" Jasper asked, his tone calm but eyes narrowed.
The bar was dimly lit, with neon signs flickering and the air thick with smoke and regret. The thud of music barely covered the sobs Liam tried to swallow with every gulp of whiskey.Glass clinked. Tears dropped. Heart ached.Another shot.He didn’t even bother to ask what it was anymore. He kept asking for the strongest they had, the strongest that could help fight this ache in his chest.His heart felt hollow.His head heavy.And his pride—shattered.He could still hear Jasper’s voice echoing from the wedding ceremony, those cold words meant to distance them, to wound, to humiliate.“You think I would ever be gay? That I would want you?”Liam winced and wiped his eyes roughly. “Bastard,” he muttered under his breath.Julian, married. Clara, beaming in her white dress. Jasper, kissed by a beautiful blonde in front of flashing cameras like Liam was a stranger–no, like he was a fool. A very foolish fool.A tear slid down his cheek. He slammed another glass back.“Bartender,” he slurred
Later The AfterpartyThe hall was buzzing with laughter and lights, but Jasper was in a daze. His drink sat untouched. His mind raced.Spotting Vivian near the corner, laughing with some investment heir, Jasper stormed toward her.He grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the crowd, dragging her to a dark hallway behind the main bar.With one hand, he pinned her to the wall."What are you doing here, Vivian? Why are you back?"She tilted her head, unbothered. "You always were dramatic.""I fucking paid you to disappear!" Jasper snapped, hand tightening slightly at her neck.Vivian giggled. "Darling, don’t flatter yourself. I got a better offer.""From who?"She leaned close, her breath brushing his cheek. "Why don’t you go ask your daddy? He paid more than you ever could."She shoved him off and sauntered away, hips swaying like a weapon.Jasper stood still, breathing hard. Fury crawled under his skin. He turned, ready to go confront his father.But Julian stepped in front of him."
The sun dripped gold across the lavish wedding venue, setting the scene aglow with a surreal charm. Everything looked picture-perfect, almost too perfect, like a fairytale written with precision and power. Clara and Julian's wedding was the event of the season, an opulent affair meant to dazzle, silence rumors, and elevate prestige.Liam stood at the edge of the gathering, watching everything unfold as though he were underwater, sound muffled and movements slowed. His chest felt tight, constricted by the choking grip of disbelief. Julian looked striking in his white tuxedo, Clara dazzling in a sleeveless, crystal-embellished gown that shimmered like a river of stars.It was happening. It was actually happening.Julian was marrying Clara.Liam couldn’t breathe.He clutched his champagne glass too tightly, the sweat of his palm sliding against the stem. He had spent days burying guilt, pretending everything was fine, smiling for Jasper, laughing at nothing. But right here, in this momen
Liam bit the inside of his cheek. Hard.The words he wanted to say, about Julian, about everything, burned on his tongue.But he swallowed them down.“I'm just tired,” he said instead.It was the safest lie he had left.Jasper studied him for a long moment, something dark and pained in his eyes.“Just... hold on a little longer, okay?” Jasper said softly. "After the wedding... everything will be different."Liam nodded mutely, but inside, he wasn’t so sure.Because some wounds didn’t heal with time.Some bruises didn’t fade.And Liam was starting to realize — some cracks, once made, could never be undone.The house was quiet — unnervingly so.Liam walked barefoot through the guest wing of the estate, one hand trailing along the polished banister. Everything looked picture-perfect, but all he could feel was the invisible weight of judgment and whispers clinging to the walls.He hadn’t seen Clara since the scene she caused at the rehearsal venue. He didn’t want to.Julian hadn’t called.
He stood by the stairwell, watching Clara twirl in her wedding dress as Julian beamed at her. Cameras flashed around them, capturing every perfect angle, every loving gaze.Liam's stomach churned.Julian looked so comfortable — so natural. Like he hadn't turned Liam's world upside down just days ago. Like the night they had spent together had been nothing more than a figment of Liam’s stupid, selfish imagination.You fool, Liam thought bitterly, clenching his fists behind his back.Beside him, Jasper was chatting lightly with one of Clara’s bridesmaids, a polite smile fixed on his face. His hand brushed Liam’s in a small, grounding touch — an unspoken I’m here — but it only made Liam feel sicker.He didn’t deserve Jasper’s warmth.He didn’t deserve his trust.“Hey,” Jasper murmured, leaning closer, “you okay?”Liam blinked rapidly, forcing a grin. “Yeah. Just… hungry.”Jasper chuckled softly, squeezing his hand before stepping away to grab them both something from the buffet.Liam wat
“You’re disgusting,” Jasper said, stepping forward. “You only care about perception. Never people.”“Well,” Mr. Davenport said calmly, “you have two weeks. By your brother’s wedding, this ‘relationship’ ends. Or I end it for you.”Jasper stared at him, loathing burning in his veins. “I hate you.”He meant it more now than ever before.“I wish you’d died instead of Mom.”That should’ve been the nuclear bomb. The unforgivable statement.But Mr. Davenport didn’t flinch.He smiled.“If you really wish that,” he said coldly, “I hope you’re prepared to watch that boy die because of you.”The words hung in the air like poison.Jasper’s chest tightened. “You wouldn’t Dare”“You know what I’m capable of,” his father said, standing now, his presence towering. “You’ve seen it.”“I’ll go to the press,” Jasper threatened. “I’ll destroy you.”His father leaned in, voice quiet. “And drag Liam down with you? Who do you think they’ll believe, Jasper? Me, the respected billionaire with a network of law