Crossover Crack Novels & Stories

He kisses the back of my neck, gently, where the sweat is gathering under my hair. "Come for me, lyubov moya." The plug clicks up to its highest setting. I shatter. It’s not like coming. It’s like being struck. Every muscle I have locks at once. The cross creaks against my weight. A sound rips out of me that has no shape, that I will not be able to remember later, only that it existed. The lace soaks through against the front of me. My knees give. My weight goes into the cuffs.

I lifted a brow in confusion, then she finally cleared the air, “She's fine, and very healthy. She put to bed a pair of pretty girls, and will be discharged tomorrow morning.” “Oh, congratulations!” I smiled. Just then, the doctor emerged from the ER. I subconsciously stood up and rushed to the doctor, and the old lady followed behind. “How is he?” I asked anxiously. “He had a concussion, and is still unconscious, but overall, your husband is fine, ma'am,” he said and left. “He's not my—” I wanted to explain, but didn't see the need to. “Forget it,” I muttered. “I told you he'd be fine,” the woman said from behind me.

“You’re in my house. Watching me jerk off. That’s a serious fucking invasion of privacy, Ava.” She looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Cross,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I heard a sound and I just… I didn’t mean to—” “Bullshit,” I cut her off. I moved even closer until I was towering over her. She had to tilt her head back to look at me. Up close, I could see how dilated her pupils were. How hard she was breathing. How her nipples were still visibly hard against that thin dress.

She liked her world like this; controlled, immaculate, and hers. Her assistant had just left the report on the collaboration between Duval Holdings and CrossTech, and Clarisse skimmed it with the cool efficiency of a surgeon. Numbers, timelines, projected returns, upcoming brief, it was all there. Damon Cross, as always, delivered results with a surgeon’s blade.

I would likely find a way to solve the problem inside the capital. When we finally reached the crack, everyone was surprised to see just how small it actually was. “Is this really the spot you want us to sneak in through? Is this where you made your great escape from?” Carter didn’t seem to believe what he was seeing. “That’s why it’s called the crack. What were you expecting?” I asked. I was the first to bend down. The crack was an actual crack in the wall, but it had chipped enough to leave behind a hole in its wake. The hole was just big enough for a person to fit through if they squeezed themselves into it while on all fours.