Forbidden Pleasures (MxM)

Liam

While my sister was getting her makeup done next door for her wedding, I was on my knees, choking on her husband-to-be's length. His fingers twisted in my thick, dark hair, guiding my head as he muttered the same sentence over and over again, "This is so fucking wrong."

Wrong? I thought, swallowing around his thick cock. Because he's straight. Because he's about to marry my sister. Because I'm supposed to be his best man, not the one kneeling before him, trying to suppress my gag reflex as I take him deeper each night.

Ronan's grip tightened in my hair, his hips moving in shallow thrusts as he sought more of my warm, wet mouth. I looked up at him through my long lashes, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and hooded eyes.

The musky scent of this straight man filled my nostrils, amplifying my arousal. Fuck, I've dreamed of this. Ever since I laid my eyes on him. He's so big, so thick - a real man. Just like my ideal type.

I gagged on the immense girth sliding over my tongue, marveling at how perfectly Ronan's length fitted my fantasies. I bobbed my head, taking him deeper with each passing second, my mouth watering around his thickness as I suppressed my gag reflex, desperate to please him - to have just this one moment with him before he becomes someone else's husband completely.

Ronan's sharp breath hitched as his fingers tightened painfully in my hair.

"Fuck, Liam, I'm going to come..." His hips stuttered as he spilled his load into my eager, swallowing mouth.

I swallowed every drop, hollowing his cheeks to milk him. I had just swallowed my sister's husband's load even before her. But I'm still so jealous. I'm envious that he's going to ruin my sister tonight just as he just ruined my mouth.

I rose from the plush carpet that I had been kneeling on, my gaze fixed on Ronan as he wore and adjusted his trousers. For a moment, there was silence. One enough to strangle me to death.

Ronan's eyes narrowed, his expression cold. "What are you still doing here? We don't have any more business now, do we?"

His words hit me like a slap. Was I even expecting anything? I swallowed hard, the sting of rejection settling in my chest.

"I guess I'll take my leave now," I murmured. "And Chloe wanted to know if you have seen your shirt?"

Ronan didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned away, his voice low and firm. "Nothing about what happened today should be said out. It's embarrassing as fuck and it was stupid of me to do this with you."

I just bit my bottom lip, the weight of his unkind words settling on my aching chest.

Suddenly, he turned back, his hand gripping my chin, forcing me to look into his villainous looking eyes. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes," I nodded, clenching my fists at my sides, trying to suppress the turmoil within.

He released me, stepping back. "Now leave and tell your sister that I've seen the stupid shirt already."

I gave a silent nod, turning on my heel and walking out. As soon as I was outside, a single tear escaped, tracing a path down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away, before anyone passing by sees me this way.

Now, why had I done that?

Why did I do that forbidden thing with my sister’s groom?

Half an hour ago, I was in my sister’s dressing room, pretending everything was fine with her getting married to my unrequited crush—smiling, watching as the makeup artist blended gold shimmer across her eyelids, brushing her cheeks with blush and whatnot.

Chloe was glowing. Happy. Oblivious.

And then, she turned to me with a grin. "Hey, could you check on Ronan?"

I tensed. "I… I don’t want to go," I muttered, glancing away, pretending to adjust the cuff of my shirt.

She paused, giving me an angry look. "Why not?"

Because I was avoiding him. Because every time I see him, my chest clenches, and my thoughts spiral into places they shouldn’t go. Because he was supposed to be hers. Not mine. Never mine.

And yet she kept pushing me toward him, unknowingly twisting the knife a little deeper.

"Please," she asked, her tone soft, coaxing. "He was having trouble finding his shirt earlier. Just check and see if he has seen it."

I sighed, my heart thudding in quiet defeat. "Fine."

Then, I left the room, not knowing I was walking straight into a moment I’d never be able to take back.

Opening the door, I didn’t expect to see that.

My eyes landed on Ronan, his chest heaving, brows furrowed, his back pressed to the wall, hand wrapped around his length, jerking himself with such desperation it knocked the breath out of me.

I froze.

My lips parted, and a gasp escaped before I could swallow it. "Oh my goodness—"

His eyes snapped to mine. Blue and burning.

I looked away instantly, face heating up like I’d been caught in a sin. "I—I’m sorry. I’ll just— I’ll leave."

But then, his voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding.

"Come inside."

I stopped.

My fingers hovered on the handle, unsure, unwilling. But when I looked up again, he was still staring at me—something wild flickering in his eyes.

He didn’t need to say it twice.

I swallowed hard and stepped into the room, the door clicking shut behind me. Ronan stood there, his hand still wrapped around his length, eyes locked onto mine.

"You've always liked me, haven't you?" he asked, his voice low and unreadable.

My heart pounded. "How... How did you know?" I stammered.

He tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowed. "So, it's true?"

I couldn't help but glance down, taking in his shirtless form, the defined lines of his abs, and the undeniable arousal he displayed. I felt my own body responding, a growing heat that I couldn't ignore.

"Can I help?" I whispered, the words escaping before I could stop them.

"What?" he asked, his voice laced with surprise.

I nodded, stepping closer. Before he could say anything more, I found myself on my knees before him.