Toxic A.
Theo's back arches off the cold locker room floor, a thick silicone cock buried to the hilt inside him, his stepbrother's hand wrapped around his throat.
"You wanted this," Hunter growls, squeezing tighter. Theo's vision spots. His cock weeps. Every brutal thrust of the toy scrapes against that spot that makes him see stars. He's a masochist. He can handle it. He needs it.
Theo had a plan, keep his head down, win games, and land the scholarship. But his new sponsor only supports out-and-proud athletes. So he lied. Said he was already in a relationship. With His tattooed, forbidden stepbrother.
Now Hunter is back not as family, but as Theo's team manager. Same smirk. Same hands. Same way of pinning Theo against office walls and reminding him that lies have consequences.
"You wanted to be in a relationship with me?" Hunter whispers, shoving the toy deeper, cutting off Theo's air again, spitting on his own cock fists stroking from base to tip while biting on Theo’s earlobe.
"Then bleed for it.”
BOOK TWO ATLAS’S TURN.
Atlas had always been good at pretending he didn’t want what he couldn’t have. He swallowed everything he felt, walked away, and told himself he was done. Then he took a hit for a fucking stranger.
Woke up with a splitting headache, and beside him, an older man staring at him like he’d figured every fucked-up thing Atlas had been hiding.
“Get married to my son.”
Atlas fucking laughed. The stranger was the Bratva heir, and apparently Atlas was exactly what his father needed to whip him into shape.
A marriage contract of Two years and then the man looked at him and smiled.
“You’ll marry my son… but me? I’ll let you fuck me.”
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