cross loves

sting their fullness with her tongue. She makes the most exquisite noises every time her head tilts to change the angl

gainst my lips, and at the adorable little

aching at the constant rubbing of her body. And, yes, my hand

ustin and Julia. Julia and

nds are o

hhh

y noise my f

s around his stomach, tears dripping down h

ia's ass," I tell an

ment? They live on Park Avenue, for fuck's sa

rolling on the floor and me still sitting on the couch,

s spinning

anothe

think I hear something about me being broken. Th

hs, grabbing my hands a

it loses its effect when she has to yank

floor while flinging my arm around her s

thing in the morning, I'm calling my father's contractor. JJ pa

e you,

me on a spiritual level. He's a really good kisser too. I alw

ulia responds to my internal monologue, a

ve these two. She can

ind Remi. You’re talkin

uch a pre

it when I had the chance. Before Justin put a ri

nd I swim through the molasses to find he

e says, and I have no fucking

lia climbs to my side, pulling th

y lips. I try to kiss her back and think maybe I do

hhh

rsting. I peel my eyes open, the lids

ssholes for letting me drink so much. I roll with a groan onto my side, reaching for the b

u

y-five in

-tinged shirt from my head, dropping it in on the way. I keep a week's worth of clothes at JJ's pl

rather be with them. With JJ. Since the moment they moved in, Julia made sure I'd

on Lancaster III, heir to the Lancaster fortune. With JJ, I'm just Remi. An a

pee, the room spins, and I have to support mysel

some of the tension in my brain. Until I reach for th

f a b

op at the dresser and debate putting on something more than my boxer briefs, but everyone is aslee

hardwood are eaten by the vacuum of New York at four in the morning. I turn towards

own the hallway

hear

ention. The apartment is quiet and still—the very air seems held in stasis.

chest. I swallow back the moisture flooding my mouth and stiffe

nd so deep I feel it slip through my

e is m

nt, in the middle of the night. I have no r

r at the end of the hall. The corridor dead-ends at the master suite—the

a is calling me to her like a moth to a candle flame. Sh

a pull in my gut. Flashes of the events on the couch flicker through my mind like a projector s

opens witho

s struggling to take in t

're

t

to let in the light. The New York skyline streams in through the glass, giving their bod

bi sent

is on h

and curves between his ass cheeks. His hair, always so perfect, is pushed hapha

o see. The curve of a bicep, the planes on his back where his muscles ripple and flex.

e. Its presence on his body is a gif

li

wi

orward before c

for doing it. I've brought myself to orgasm with images of my best fri

ergarten finger painting while

strapped

nd sprinkled with sweat. I blink once, twice, bringing my g

ts size when Justin slowl

arms are extended above her head, her face pressed cheek first into the mattress, and her wrists bound in black, a strap disappearing behind who knows where. Her hai

then rotating at the moment of impact, pulling that drawn-ou

s movements are languid, the act of a man who has all

boxers, the tight fabric do

ant to ta

his dick with his fingers, then bringing the slicked digits to his mouth. He climbs off the side of the bed, causing Julia to mewl in

amn fucking voice, and I'm halfway across

go to