Content Warning: This book contains sexually explicit material and is intended for readers aged 18 and above. "I’m engaged to your sister. You can’t do this." His dark-green eyes bored into mine under the sheets, as he stroked my cheeks. "You’re not even into women, Liam. You know you’re not. You know you want this. You want me." And Liam couldn't deny it, He lived to burn for Jackson Maddox. ~ Liam Sinclair had always lived according to his father’s rules, polished, quiet, and hidden in the perfect image of a future CEO. Behind closed doors, he carried a secret that could destroy everything his father built. He was gay. But scandal had no place in the Sinclair legacy, and Liam made sure no one ever found out. That is, until the night everything changed. When his father arranges an engagement with Avery Maddox, a woman Liam barely knows, he unravels. A single night of rebellion leads him to a club, where a one-night stand with a seductive green-eyed stranger spirals into something far more complicated. The next morning, the stranger's identity is no longer a mystery. His name is Jackson Humin Maddox, the brother of his intending Fiancee. Now Liam is trapped between duty and desire, legacy and love. But Jackson doesn’t care about titles or contracts. Engaged or not, he wants Liam, and he is not letting go. This is a forbidden tango of chemistry, but Liam Sinclair has to choose, to either pretend his one time mistake was baseless, or to fall maddeningly in love with it.
View MoreLiam's pov
"Another shot, please." The bartender gave me a worried glance, maybe I was taking too much. But I didn't care, I needed to get wasted tonight. He poured another shot and added extra ice, it left a burning trail as I tipped it into my mouth. Tomorrow was my engagement, and my twenty-fifth birthday. I was to be engaged to the charming Avery Maddox. And shit, if I remembered correctly through all this alcohol. I've only met this woman once. And we didn't even hold out a proper conversation. "Another one." I requested, nudging the now empty glass to him. "It's your engagement sir, why aren't you happy about it.?" I scoffed internally, Maybe because I wasn't interested in women?Yes, they were luscious beings with luscious assets. But I ached to be used, to be dominated and pummelled into a mattress so hard that there would be a dent in the bed frame the morning after. I liked men, I wanted men. I gripped the cup in anger, I couldn't have them. Because that would mean my whole world tearing into little pieces and then burning up and receding into bright orange flames. "Just imagine....." I muttered amusingly, to my own hearing. "Liam Sinclair, heir to Mr. Astor Sinclair, coming out of the closet and identifying with the LGBT community." I could almost smell the headlines. My father would ruin me first, and I was honestly..... incapable of fighting his choices. The bartender turned to me, he was a big bulky man that had his hair roughed up with an apron on. A big muscle daddy capable of- "So you don't like her?" He asked, his squeaky nosy tone drowning out my desires. "It doesn't matter who I marry.....it's quite frankly all the same." He kept quiet after that and I kept on drinking, in fact....I started feeling the shots kicking in. I climbed on the table, hooted and announced that I would be buying drinks for everyone here. Their excited cheers erupted around me, their tongues gliding at the corner of their lips at the mention of free liquor. Through the blinding neon lights and loud phonk music, I noticed......him. He was seated at the VIP section, he was watching me.....his eyes held my stare and I could see him clamp down on his lip with his lower teeth. He was oozing dominance, I could taste his breath from across the room. Somehow, I knew that it would taste like mint and sugar. I would never dare to approach any man intimately in public, the fear for my reputation would not let them. But my body betrayed me for this stranger. I found myself getting off the table, walking towards him, liquid courage fueling my intentions. The crowd was thick, but I was quick on my feet. Within a fleet of a second, I was on his thighs, straddling him like a shameless slut, and kissing him, like I'd been starved of life itself. He kissed back, in fact......he kissed back with more vigour than I expected. His strong arms locked around my waist, his deep green eyes looked up at me, reminding me of a thick lush forest. "Tasty...." He muttered as he curled his tongue around mine, sucking on it lewdly as he moved around on the sofa. I could feel him getting an erection beneath me. God, what was I doing?. "Wanna take this elsewhere, a hotel, just us two?" He was a stranger to me, going with him alone would mean exactly what he was suggesting. My engagement was tomorrow, and.... He grabbed my neck and peppered kisses on my chin, fisting my growing bulge and marking my neck with his light bites. "Just one night...." I murmured out of breath. "Just one." He responded in agreement. We didn't need to exchange any other words, I signalled the bartender to deduct whatever bills from my card. He carried me out, still sucking on my throat and forcing submissive sounds out of me. "You'll be a good boy for me, won't you?" It sounded like something a serial killer would say, especially when he slid my drunk ass into the back of his tinted SUV. But I didn't mind, I was too far gone, lost in his scent of coffee and rain to care. For one night, I would be reckless and I'd let loose. ~ The hotel door clicked shut behind us, muffling the noise outside. He pressed me against the wall like he couldn’t wait, his mouth crashing into mine, hungry, lustful. I clung to him, fingers tangling in his shirt before yanking it open. Buttons popped, and he didn’t even flinch. He stripped me down with practiced ease, his gorgeous eyes scanning every inch of my exposed skin like I was something he’d been starving for. I’d never done this. I'd ever let a man touch me like this. But with him, that fear turned into heat. "You're smooth...." He trailed his hand across my bare chest, "soft....just how I like my pretty boys." He pushed me onto the bed, hands everywhere, down my chest, between my thighs, leaving wet trails with his tongue as I trembled beneath him. My breath hitched, my dick throbbed. Then he pulled my boxers off and settled between my legs. "Relax," he said. His fingers were slow at first, wetting themselves with cold lube and pressing into my hungry hole until I arched and whimpered, then he got rougher, crueler in the most beautiful way. "You’ve never been fucked, have you?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to my smooth ballsacs. I shook my head, too dazed to speak. He smirked, Then I felt him, long and hard, pushing in, stretching me open like his member was a beer bottle. I gasped, my nails digging into the sheets. "Breathe, pretty boy," he whispered, thrusting into me. The whole length, he slammed it in. It hurt. It burned. But by the gods, it was everything I craved. He didn’t stop until I was flushed and wrecked, begging for more. Until the room smelled of sex and sweat and desperation. He came with a growl, spilling deep inside me while I cried out a wordless gibberish plea. We hadn't even used a condom, I was careless, getting pummeled raw as his hands worked my own pitiful member. Making it spurt and wobble. We collapsed onto the sheets together, both of us breathless. He brushed his thumb over my bruised hip bone, "I've still got more loads to pour into you." He grinned, "let's see how well you do on top.”Third Person POV“Who are you meeting with that late?” Avery’s voice sliced through the tension in the air, sharp and unforgiving, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She leaned against the bedroom doorframe, her eyes narrowing as Liam turned away from the mirror where he was loosening his tie.She had waited. Waited for him to come home, waited for the silence in the room to grow heavy enough to suffocate her, waited for the perfect moment to confront him.Liam let out a soft, calculated smile. His expression was relaxed, almost too relaxed—as if he'd rehearsed this conversation in the mirror a hundred times.“My cousin sister,” he said, calmly. “Her name is Vivian. I know you probably don’t remember her. She’s on my dad’s side. She just moved back from the UK and is going through some… financial mess. I just dropped off a few things.”Avery’s jaw clenched. Her teeth ground behind the gloss of her lips. “Vivian?” she echoed, her tone disbelieving. “A cousin I’ve never heard of
Third‑Person POVAstor Sinclair’s voice echoed softly in the long foyer, its calm measured to either soothe or command.“Now,” he said, lowering his glass, “why don’t you all take a breath… and tell Daddy everything.”A chill ran through the room, as though the walls themselves expected confession. Avery stood as still as a marble statue, but Astor’s eyes were sharp—trained to detect fissures in even the calmest demeanor.She hesitated, took a breath.“Dad,” she began quietly, “when Liam got home after work… well, I was setting the table. I wanted us to have dinner alone. It’s been a while since I saw my fiancé smile. I thought sitting down with him—just the two of us—would bring us some closure. A reset.” Her voice tightened. “But after dinner, Liam told me he was going outside for a smoke. I didn’t want to stop him—I’m not raising a child. But… he was gone for two hours. When he came back, he claimed to have run into business partners—‘from across the world,’ he said. Only…” she pau
Third-Person POVThe leather seat still bore the heat of their bodies.Liam hadn’t moved for a full minute, his skin sticking to the car’s interior, sweat drying too slowly as his chest rose and fell like he’d run miles uphill. The taste of Jackson still lingered on his tongue—warm, heady, forbidden. A part of him wanted to rewind time and do it all over again, slower this time, filthier. Another part of him? It was already regretting everything.The heavy silence in the car pressed in around them.Jackson had zipped up his pants, scrubbed a hand through his tousled dark hair, and rested his head against the steering wheel like he was seconds away from slamming it against the dashboard. He didn’t say anything. Not thank you, not what now, not we shouldn’t have. Just silence.That’s when Liam noticed it.The sleek, dark outline of a black SUV slid out from behind a cluster of trees on the other side of the empty lot. It moved too quietly. The windows were tinted like night and no l
Note by: This chapter is explicitly written. Third Person POV Liam exhaled deeply, rolling the window down as the city night crept into the car. The amber of the cigarette glowed between his fingers as the driver took a left into Glover Street. The lights of Haven Bar spilled out like liquid gold. Liam stepped out without a word. Inside, the place reeked of expensive whiskey, twisted intentions, and forbidden meetings. Liam strode to the bar, ordered two bourbons, and downed one in one swig. The second stayed in his hand, untouched. Then the door opened. Jackson. Dressed in a black shirt rolled at the sleeves, no tie, wristwatch gleaming like a dagger's promise. He walked like he owned the air, like his name was printed in the dust of the walls. “You came,” Liam muttered. Jackson didn’t answer immediately. He moved close, brushing against Liam’s arm as he ordered a whiskey of his own. “Thought I made myself clear the last time we talked, babe.” “Liam,” he snappe
Liam's POV I walked in through the front door and caught the scent right away—something unexpected, almost intimate. It was the soft gleam of candlelight and the precise placement of a table set for two. Not by the maids, not by staff, but by her. Avery Maddox. I paused, stunned. This isn’t her style. Ever. There she was—standing just inside the dining room doorway, wearing a crisp white blouse and tailoring that spoke business, not domestic. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, lips parted as though she staked a question in the air. When she saw me, she offered a small, uneven smile. “I wanted us to eat together,” she said, voice unsteady but steadying itself. “You must be starving.” I took in the plated salad, fresh bread, the dim lighting. It was more than just a gesture—it felt like a message. Soft, fragile, and earnest. My shirt rode tight against my chest—every nerve prickling. “I’ll just…” I gestured toward the hall. “Take a bath first.” Her eyes followed me, silent,
Jackson’s POV The thing about being obsessed is—it’s a slow, constant hunger. It doesn’t scream; it simmers. Low and deadly. And tonight, it simmers inside me like a goddamn possessed furnace. I hadn’t eaten. Missed the family dinner, which was good, because I didn't want to play pretend with forks and wine and give fake laughs just to mask the tightness in my chest. Avery hadn’t responded to the last message I sent her about the shares. She was stalling. And I knew exactly why. She wasn’t stupid. She knew something was wrong. Something about the way I watched Liam. Something about the way I tried to corner this deal like a chessboard. But what she didn’t know—or maybe what she refused to say out loud—was that I was fighting for more than just company shares. I was fighting for Liam. Yeah. Him. And maybe hell had already welcomed me, because if loving your sister’s fiancé was damnable, then I’d already ordered a golden ticket straight to the devil’s living room. I was
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