It was supposed to be just one night of wicked fun, of being touched, spread and used by her boyfriend Jun and his two best friends. Alice lets herself dream of doing it again, but she’s given up on getting Jun to discuss the idea without teasing her about her constant, shameful hunger to be dominated by all three men.
When Jun finally admits his taboo desire to share her again, Alice feels torn between anger at his hypocrisy and a seething, all-consuming lust. Will she resist her urge to give in, or will she let him and his friends give her the rough treatment that she craves?
This 18,000-word novella is the second story in the Shared series. It is suitable only for adults. Want a taste?
In my fantasies, it had always been just me and Ollie, both of us too drunk to know where to draw the line; now, the thought of including Rakim and doing it all with Jun being nearby sent an uncontrollable shiver down my back.
“Hold your horses,” Jun muttered, taking one shaky step into the room. “I told you I wanted this, didn’t I?”
Rakim gave him an assessing look, then turned his dark, questioning gaze back on me. “What if I told you that all you’re allowed to do is watch?” he said, softly. When Jun failed to answer, Rakim turned back toward him. “Would that be too much for you to handle?”
By now, the door had long since hissed its way shut, leaving us alone in the warmly lit, delicately scented hush of the hotel room. Like the sex dungeon, there were no windows, but there the similarities ended; the hotel room was larger, better furnished, and obviously meant for more than one purpose. There was a desk, a vid screen, a small coffee table and a set of chairs nestled around it. The large, handsomely draped bed at the back of the room almost seemed out of place, and the side tables beside it hosted nothing like the brazen selection of sex toys and lubes that had been displayed on the side tables in the sex dungeon.
Despite all that, the atmosphere in the room felt exactly the same, ripe with tension, mortification and lust. Jun, standing stiffly in front of the door, embodied all three: his cheeks were flushed, his hands were in fists by his side, and his cock was hard, visibly straining against the crotch of his trousers.
“Go ahead,” he said now, hoarsely. “Use her. Do whatever you like.”
“Why the fuck are you only asking him?” I stammered, taking a step back. “I’m still here, you know. I haven’t—” Suddenly, I felt someone grab hold of my arms from behind, startling me out of my rant. I turned immediately, or tried to, even though I already knew who it had to be. “Ollie, for goodness' sake.”
“That’s not your safeword,” he said, dragging me back against him so that my arse settled right against his erection, which felt hot and hard even through the layers of my dress. When I flinched, biting back a guilty moan, he took that for encouragement, rubbing deliberately against me. “Come on, I know you want this.”
“Don’t,” I said, shivering, hating the fact that he was entirely right. My knickers were already soaked, despite or perhaps because of how real this all felt. Jun had not moved an inch from his position near the door, but Rakim was starting to walk toward me, his dark gaze on my tits, his hands busy at his belt buckle, and though I wasn’t sure exactly what he would do, I knew it was going to be rough and degrading, and that I would love it.