All Chapters of Addicted To His Touch {AN MM COLLECTION}: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

It was past midnight in Dorm Block D, and the hallway was silent except for the buzzing of a flickering overhead light. The kind of silence that made every breath, every step, sound criminal.Jake was in the bathroom again.Door locked. Lights off. Just the moonlight bleeding through the narrow slit of a window above the toilet, casting shadows on the stained tiles. He was hunched against the cold wall, pants shoved down to his knees, palm working fast over his cock.He had needed to fuck really bad tonight, but the girls hostel had been sealed off. His girlfriend, faraway.His teeth were clenched. His breath came out in hot, shaky bursts.“Fuck… gods…” he hissed under his breath, head tilting back, neck glistening with sweat. He'd been hard since dinner. Frustrated, throbbing, no outlet. His girlfriend hadn’t called in three days. Not that she ever really made him feel this desperate anyway.He couldn’t even go out. The school had locked the gate early. Patrols were up. Even the nigh

The lock clicked behind them, sealing the room and their secrets inside.Jake’s heart hammered as the four of them stood, bare skin illuminated only by the soft glow of a single lamp. The air was thick with desire, anticipation crackling like electricity between their bodies.Alex’s eyes roamed Jake’s flushed skin, lips curling into a slow, hungry smile. “You said you wanted more. Tonight, you’re gonna get it.”Jake swallowed hard, his cock already twitching, aching for attention.Ryan stepped forward, hand sliding over Steve’s chest, the other trailing down his side, fingers brushing dangerously low. Steve responded with a low groan, stepping closer, their breaths mingling.Jake’s eyes flicked between them, pulse racing. He could feel their heat, smell the mix of sweat and musk and something raw, primal.Alex pulled him close, lips crashing against his in a fierce kiss, tongue darting deep and possessive. Jake gasped, melting into the touch, hands tangling in Alex’s hair as their bod

The bathroom was a sanctuary of heat and steam, the air thick and heavy as the water swirled gently in the large clawfoot tub. Jensen sank deeper, the warmth of the water crawling beneath his skin, loosening the knots in his muscles but igniting something fiercer in his core. His breath came in shallow bursts, heart pounding in rhythm with the faint splash of water as it moved with their shifting bodies.Behind him, Clinton stepped in, bare skin glistening with droplets as he settled into the bath. His arms slid around Jensen’s waist with the ease of a predator claiming his prize, pulling him flush against that solid, familiar heat. Jensen’s back curved into Clinton’s chest, the sensation so immediate and electric that he shivered involuntarily.The heat of Clinton’s body radiated through the warm water, pressing against Jensen’s own slick skin, their bare torsos melding into one seamless curve. Jensen’s head rested against Clinton’s shoulder, the faint scrape of stubble along his jaw

River so badly wanted Dean to notice him, but he didn't.Not during warm-up. Not during drills. Not even when River “accidentally” dropped a weight plate near his foot with a clang loud enough to turn heads. Dean simply picked it up without a word and moved on to the next client.It was worse than shouting.Worse than pain.Worse than anything.River clenched his jaw, wiping sweat from his forehead, watching Dean’s broad back as he corrected another guy’s posture. The same low, even tone he used with everyone else. The same indifferent calm.The same body that had fucked him over the steam room bench 48 hours ago and made him beg.Now?Nothing.River wasn’t used to being ignored. Especially not after giving himself away like that, naked, panting, moaning his Sir’s name like a pathetic whore.He didn’t want to admit it, but it hurt.He didn’t understand it. Didn’t like understanding it.So he did what River Keane always did when he felt powerless.He acted up.He skipped three assigned

If he wants to be used, he needs to know what “used” really means.Two weeks.Fourteen days of silence.Dean didn’t text. Didn’t glance. Didn’t acknowledge River’s existence in the gym. He might as well have been invisible.It was a punishment far colder than any slap or denial.River went from angry to embarrassed to quietly obsessed. He trained harder. Showed up earlier. Even tried being good. Polite. Obedient. Nothing worked.He started waking up hard every morning, sick with frustration and guilt and need. He couldn't stop thinking about Dean’s voice, his body, the taste of him.He wanted to scream.But Dean said nothing.Until tonight.The text came late, past midnight, when River had nearly stopped hoping.Dean: You still want forgiveness?River stared at the screen, heart pounding. Then typed fast.River: Yes. Please.The reply was instant.Dean: Then come. Now. My place.River didn’t even dress properly. Just threw on joggers and a hoodie, no underwear. His fingers were shakin