All Chapters of P*rnstation: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

I shouldn’t have been nervous. It was just a tattoo. But sitting in the waiting room with my ass about to be on display for a total stranger, my stomach was in knots. The shop smelled like ink and antiseptic, but there was a low hum of bass from somewhere in the back, like even the walls vibrated with sex. And then he walked out. Tall. Broad. T-shirt stretched tight across his chest, arms covered in black ink that disappeared under the cotton sleeves. His hair was messy, dark, falling across his forehead in a way that made him look like he’d just rolled out of bed after fucking someone senseless. “Who’s getting their ass done today?” he asked, voice deep, like the question wasn’t filthy as hell. My hand went up before my brain caught up. His eyes slid over me, slowly like he was peeling clothes off with his gaze. My thighs pressed together instinctively. “Follow me,” he said, smirking as if he already knew what kind of mess I was going to be by the time he was finished.

It was past midnight, the house silent except for the low hum of the fridge. I crept barefoot across the tile, wearing nothing but one of my oversized shirts that barely skimmed the tops of my thighs. My brother had fallen asleep hours ago, and I thought his friends had too. They’d come over to crash after a long night out drinking. I should’ve known better. The second I tugged the fridge door open, cool light spilling across my bare legs, then I heard it, low laughter behind me, deep and male. “Well, well…” I froze, hand still on the milk carton. My stomach dropped, heat rushing straight between my thighs. Slowly, I turned my head and there they leaning against the counter like they’d been waiting. Liam, tall, cocky, with that constant smirk that made me want to slap him and kiss him all at once. And Jace, darker, broader, his eyes sharper, hungrier. My brother’s best friends. The two men I’d spent years pretending I didn’t fantasize about when I touched mysel

Jace’s cock slammed into me hard, each thrust so deep I felt it in my spine. My pussy clenched hard, soaking his length, wet sounds echoing with every snap of his hips. Liam’s cock choked me at the same time, stretching my throat until drool and spit poured down my chin. “You’re dripping all over me,” Jace groaned, his fingers bruising my hips. “She’s gonna fucking squirt, I can feel it.” Liam grunted, holding my head down as he shoved deep, his cock hitting the back of my throat. “Do it, make her cum so hard she pisses all over your cock.” The filthy words sent a shockwave through me. My belly tightened, thighs trembling, every nerve on fire. Jace rammed into me faster, his cock hammering my g-spot without mercy. “Come on, sweetheart,” he growled in my ear, his voice rough with lust. “Make a fucking mess for us. Drown my cock.” I tried to scream, but Liam’s cock blocked it, his hips rutting into my face while his balls slapped my chin. Tears streamed down my cheeks, spit

My pussy was still pulsing, dripping wet from the orgasm Marcus ripped out of me. The poker table’s rough felt scratched my tits, my ass stinging red from his spanks. The casino’s hum seeped through the walls, a reminder we weren’t alone.Marcus’s fingers stayed between my thighs, teasing my soaked folds. I was a mess—sweat, cum, and whiskey fumes mixing in the air. My thong hung around my ankles, useless, my body begging for more.“You’re fucking drenched,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. His hand slid up, smearing my juices across my ass. I moaned, my hips bucking, ready for whatever he’d give.He stepped back, and I heard the clink of his belt hitting the floor. My pulse spiked, knowing his cock was free, hard, and ready. I glanced over my shoulder, catching the thick outline in the dim light.“Stay there,” he ordered, his hand pressing my back down. My tits flattened against the table, nipples aching against the rough surface. I spread my legs wider, my pussy exposed, dripp

The penthouse party was a blur of champagne flutes and pulsing bass, but I was bored out of my mind. Rich assholes in tailored suits droned on about stocks, their hands grazing my ass like I was part of the decor. I slipped away, needing air, needing something real to jolt me awake.The rooftop door creaked as I pushed through, the city skyline sprawling below, glittering through a haze of rain. Thunder rumbled, the air heavy with ozone and wet concrete. My silk dress clung to my skin, already damp, the storm’s breath kissing my bare shoulders.I wasn’t alone. A stranger—Dax, he’d said earlier, his voice rough over the music—leaned against the railing, his dark hair slick with rain. His shirt stuck to his chest, outlining hard muscle, and his eyes locked on me, hungry, like he’d been waiting.“You running from the suits?” he asked, his smirk sharp, cutting through the storm’s hum. I stepped closer, rain dripping down my neck, pooling between my breasts. My nipples hardened, visible th