❝Book 1 in the 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 series
He spreads my folds wide, his hungry mouth latching onto my clit, sucking hard and licking expertly. My hips move on their own, riding his face as soft whimpers escape me.
Just when I think I can't take any more, he...
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P A R I S
I wake up feeling like absolute hell. My head pounds in a rhythm that feels synced with every heartbeat, and my body is sore in all the wrong places. The sunlight slices through the curtains, harsh and unwelcoming, and I groan, tangled in yesterday's wrinkled clothes and blankets.
Then it hits me—the memory of last night, or rather, that dream. My stomach flips and my cheeks immediately heat up. Fuck. That dream. It felt so painfully, unbearably real. I bite my lip, trying to shake it off, but a sudden, unwelcome realization makes me freeze.
I'm wet. Like, embarrassingly soaked. My thighs are slick, and the faint stick of arousal clings to my skin, refusing to be ignored. My mind flashes back to the dream—him, the way he held me, the way my body had obeyed him without question.
My cheeks burn in frustration. Even in my dreams, Luciano has this control over me. Even when he's not doing anything, just existing in my head, he pulls strings I can't seem to resist.
I groan and fall back onto the bed, letting my face sink into the pillow as if I can smother the headache drilling through my skull.
The pounding behind my eyes makes me wince, and after a moment I force myself upright, rubbing my temples with slow circles. My lips press together as memories of last night begin to drift back—way too vivid for the level of vodka that was involved.
After Laura raided her dad's liquor cabinet and pulled out that bottle, one "just a taste" turned into two... then three... and before we knew it, we were all riding that tipsy edge. Not fully drunk, but definitely not sober. Like... sixty percent in control. Just enough to make questionable decisions while still being totally aware of how questionable they were.
And then, of course, the twist.
Three boys showed up—literally out of nowhere—laughing too loud, smelling like cologne and bad decisions. They claimed they were doing their own "boys' night", which was code for absolutely not staying in their lane.
Laura clocked them instantly. Jenny followed two seconds later.
So there went my girls, drifting toward them like moths to a mediocre flame.
I wasn't mad. Honestly, I wasn't even interested. But somehow I ended up talking to one of the guys—coincidentally the only one who wasn't trying to flirt like his life depended on it.
And he was... surprisingly normal.
Tall, lean, kinda pretty-boy-ish but with a real smile. He sat across from me at the corner of the karaoke bar, our knees nearly brushing beneath the low table.
"So, you're saying..." he'd said, squinting like he needed another drink to handle my drama. "He's just... confusing?"
