Ashton
It’s laughable. Ridiculous. And still, I can’t help myself. His taste lingers on my tongue, like some f*****g poison I can’t stop swallowing. My c**k throbs in my pants, and for a moment, I have to force myself to stop thinking, stop remembering the way his lips felt pressed against mine.
But then the door creaks open, snapping me out of it.
“Well, well, the prodigal brother returns, huh?” Nic says, his voice dripping with that smug, mocking tone he always carries. He watches me, sprawled on the couch like I’ve just been caught in some f****d-up daydream. He’s cleaning himself up, and I can tell by the blood staining his clothes that his little “shopping trip” didn’t end with a discount.
I don’t need to ask. In this world, there’s no shame for anything. No dignity. No morality.
